Until I Break (24 page)

Christmas always was Chris’s favorite
holiday.

“Oh Lord! I hope I’m feeling better
long
before then!”

As sad as it is to admit, I doubt I will be.
At least not completely. This hole will never be filled, this ache
never satisfied. That’s the risk you take when falling in love. If
it doesn’t work out, it leaves you devastated forever. And forever
is a long time.

“I know I don’t know all the details, but I
still think you need to go see him. Sam, there’s no way the guy
can’t be in love with you, too. He’s too smart not to see how
amazing you are.”

“And you’re smart enough to realize how
biased you are.”

“Maybe a little, but I’m still objective
enough to see you for who and what you are. I know you’re not
perfect. You have a terrible sense of style, you need to take
better care of your skin and your morning breath could knock over a
fruit stand from ten paces.”

“Like yours is any better!” I defend
indignantly.

She giggles. “What I’m getting at is that I
know
your flaws, so I’m not
blind.
But you’re the
catch of a lifetime even in your terrible clothes.”

“Half the time I wear things you pick
out.”

“I know! Thank God you look nice part of the
year.”

I roll my eyes. There’s just no reasoning
with Chris.

“Did you call just to point out all my
shortcomings?”

“Oh, hell no! There’s no time for that. I
called to invite you out for a girl’s night. Let’s go get drunk.
You wanna?”

For the first time since the conversation
started, I hear the sad desperation in her voice. That or it’s the
first time I’ve had my head out of my butt long enough to perceive
someone else’s pain.

“What’s the matter? Did something happen
between you and Greg?”

There’s absolute silence on the phone. I
wonder for a few seconds if we got cut off, but then I hear her
sniff.

“It’s over. Done.”

“What happened?”

“We got in an argument and he got pretty mad.
I guess I just got spooked. You know, old fears, ghosts from the
past, all that shit. I freaked. Threw a vase at him. Hit him in the
head.”

“Ohmigod, Chris! Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It only grazed him. But
still…”

“Oh,” I say, deadpan. I
do
see. He got
to see some of Chris’s emotional wounds and he ran. Every broken
person’s worst fear—that no one will be able to love us in spite of
our scars.

“I apologized, but it didn’t do any good. So
now I get to live the rest of my life knowing that I ruined the
best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Stop it right now, Chris! This is not the
end. Greg is a nice guy. He might just need to cool down. And if he
can’t ever forgive you then you’ll meet another great guy, one who
will love you for exactly who and what you are, past and all.”

“You sort of lost your credibility when you
refused to go give your perfect man another chance.”

“But you don’t know how it went down. I was
such a bitch, Chris. I said awful things to him. My situation is
different than yours.”

“Is it? Is it so different? You showed each
other your ugly and then it all fell apart, isn’t that right? Isn’t
that what you told me?”

“Chris, there’s more to it than that. You
just…you just had to be there. I can’t go into it. It’s not fair
for me to tell you what he trusted me with.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me. I’m just
hoping that you two can show me that there’s hope. If you can find
happiness, I know I can, too. But if someone as great as you can’t
make it work, what does that say for someone like
me?”

“Chris, you’re amazing. You don’t need me to
start counting all your wonderful attributes, do you? Do you really
want me to bore you with things you already know?”

In some ways, Chris is the most confident
person you’d ever hope to meet. But in other ways, ways she keeps
closely guarded, she’s every bit as screwed up and insecure as I
am. She just does a better job of hiding it than I do. According to
Alec, I write about the ways I hope to heal, about the life I wish
I had rather than experiencing any of it.

“Fine. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give the
thing with Alec one more shot if you promise to go talk to
Greg.”

Sniff, sniff. “Really?” she asks in a small,
childlike voice.

“Really really.”

“Okay, but can we still do girl’s night
tonight? I need to go have a little fun. Plus, I’ve got this really
cute dress I’m dying to wear.”

I sigh and shake my head. Fashion will always
be the thing that drags Chris out of a funk. Just like my writing
will always be mine.

I look at the blinking cursor and the happily
ever after I just can’t seem to conjure.

At least I hope so.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX- Alec

My internal office line buzzes. Only the most
important clients, employees and a few personal friends have this
number.

“Brand,” I say brusquely into the
receiver.

“Alec,” comes the familiar purr.

“Carla,” I respond. “So nice to hear from
you.”

“I was hoping you’d think so,” she confesses
in her feline way. As it turns out, however, I’m not in the mood
for her, or any reminders of what I’m trying so hard to forget.

“What can I do for you?”

“Ooo, sounds like you need me a lot worse
than I need you.”

“How do you figure?”

“I can hear that tension all the way through
the phone. And I have just the thing for it.”

“I’m busy, Carla. What’s this about?”

Her laugh is sultry and grates on my nerves.
“I’m having a mixer at the club. We’re adding a couple of new
members. Thought I’d invite you. It’s all strictly downstairs.
Unless, of course, anyone
wants
to go upstairs…”

“I don’t really have—”

“I really hope you can come. It’s important
for members to show their support. You know it keeps everyone
honest when we all mingle occasionally.”

In other words, what she’s saying is that, by
mingling at her mixer, we all have something on each other, which
means no one tells. Ever. The risk is too high. And she wants to
bring the new members right into that. Like a hush party.

I don’t really approve of what she’s doing,
but I
do
need to stay on the good side of her and
her…endeavors. Besides, I
have
frequented the place for
several years. I guess the least I could do is go for a drink or
two, especially since the lure of the upstairs won’t be the focus
of the night.

“I’ll try to stop by,” I answer
noncommittally.

“Nine o’clock?”

“Sounds good.”

“Until then, Alec.”

“Carla.”

I hang up and lean back in my chair. I’ve
been spending so much time at home brooding since I got back into
South Carolina, it’ll be good to get out. If I hadn’t had to come
back for some business things here at
ABC Consulting,
I’d
still be in Oregon. Far away from Samantha Jansen.

And how much I still want her.

And how guilty I feel about it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN- Samantha

Luckily, I did plenty of research for my
books a couple of years ago when I began this vampire series. It
was the first time I’d really let go and written about the things
I’d seen in childhood. I did lots of investigating, trying to
understand not only the mechanics of it all, but the pleasure
principles involved. I guess Alec did the same thing in a way, only
he was more interested in the psychological aspect of it. In many
ways, we are very similar creatures.

I feel the pinch of the outfit I’m wearing
under my loose-fitting, floor-length dress. I have to look
presentable on the outside. For a while anyway. I owe that to Carla
for her help getting me in. Luckily, she was agreeable to helping
me do this for Alec. I think she practically drooled over the
thought of Alec getting…back into things.

My stomach twitches with fear. A healthy dose
of fear. I ignore it. What I’ve discovered in the days since
talking to Chris is that the fear of losing Alec forever is far
greater than any other fear I’ve known, including the ones I
experienced as a child. Besides, even if this isn’t effective, I
need to work toward putting the past behind me. I can’t move
forward as long as I’m shackled to haunting memories, anchored in
yesterday. And I
must
move on. One way or the other.

I grab my bag and walk toward the bedroom
door. I pause in front of the mirror to look myself over one more
time.

The pale skin of my exposed arms and throat
glows with a healthy sheen and my hair falls in a rich crimson wave
almost to my waist. My lips are stained a color near that of my
hair and my eyes are lined in charcoal. The makeup is heavy, but it
can’t conceal the uncertainty lurking in the gray depths of my
eyes, nor can it conceal the tremble of anticipation that works at
my lower lip. I bite it as if to remind it to keep still. I’m doing
this tonight. No backing out.

Carefully, I walk to the car in my
stilettoes. I pitch the bag in the back and ignore the nervous
tremor of my hand as I slide the key into the ignition.

This will all be over soon.

With the help of navigation, I make my way
back to the renovated house. The club. It’s dark outside when I
pull into the lot and park. Warm light pours into the night from
every window on the lower level. The upper levels are pitch
black.

My heart trips over itself in my chest.

I get out and walk around to the back, going
through the back door as instructed. I walk up the back staircase,
also as instructed, and find the right room. I stop just inside the
doorway, taking in the clean, crisp sheets and the accoutrements
that have terrified me for years.

Shaking off my trepidation, I close the door
and get out all the things I could gather from my house. Anyone who
saw inside my bag would think I’m a traveling freak show.

And I guess, to some extent, they’d be
right.

When I’m finished, I go back out to the hall,
close the door and head downstairs, slipping my domino on as I
go.

I wait anxiously at the bar, sipping on first
one drink then another then another. Still no sign of Alec. My
disappointment is keen. But so is my relief.

I turn toward the bartender, requesting a
glass of water this time. Happily, he sets one on a napkin in front
of me and I tag a long, refreshing gulp.

“New members, huh? Now I understand Carla’s
ambiguity.”

My pulse leaps at the sound of his voice.

I turn slowly on my seat to face Alec. At
first, I’m struck speechless. How I could forget how handsome he
is, I’ll never know. I’ve thought all along that he is my real life
Mason. But what I have just now come to realize is that he is so
much more, so much better. Mason is a shadow of the man Alec is.
And what I feel for him is a thousand leagues deeper than what
Daire feels for her vampire.

This is love. Real love. And this is my last
chance at it.

The stern set of his mouth assures me he’s
not happy at the subterfuge, and behind his domino, his eyes are
hard. But neither of those things stops me from melting over
Alec—his scent, his eyes, his body. His soul. I love it all. I love
him.
Irrevocably.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, ignoring his
comment.

He hesitates. Understandably. I was mean and
ugly and childish when last we spoke. I’m surprised he didn’t turn
right around and walk back out the door. The fact that he didn’t
gives me hope. Tiny hope, but hope nonetheless.

This time,
he
ignores
me.
He
asks the bartender for a glass of twenty-five year old Glenlivet
and downs it in one long swallow, signaling him immediately for
another. When the bartender places the second one in front of him,
Alec takes the glass and turns to face me, leaning casually against
the bar.

“I don’t suppose I need to ask what you’re
doing here.”

“Don’t you?”

He raises one black brow, but says nothing,
simply takes another sip of his scotch.

He sets the half full glass back on the bar
and folds his hands in front of him, settling in to watch me in
that unnerving way of his. It amplifies my jitters tenfold.

Clearing my throat, I give myself a mental
shove and I take a step closer to Alec, looking up into his
handsome face and light green eyes. “I never got the chance to
apologize for that night. I never meant to get so ugly or to make
you…to force you to…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he
finally says, jumping in to save me. “That’s what happens between
people like us.”

His comment stings, but I let it roll off me.
Tonight, I can’t afford to let anything steal my focus. I have to
do this, not only for Alec, but for me. I need to find a way to
deal with my past, whether it mends things between us or not. I
can’t live with this fear for the rest of my life.

I clench and unclench my fingers a couple of
times to relax them before I make my move and reach for Alec’s
hand. Slowly, with my eyes still on his, I slide my fingers over
his palm. He grips my fingers and pushes away from the bar. He
narrows his eyes on me, suspicious but intrigued, setting fire to
my stomach. I smile at him and tip my head behind me, toward the
steps, a silent indication for him to follow.

Still holding his hand, I turn toward the
wide, curved staircase. Slowly and with great purpose, I mount each
step, tugging Alec along behind me. With my every movement, I’m
hyper aware of the clothing beneath my dress, of the fingers lying
lightly in mine, of the man trailing along behind me. I remind
myself that I trust him and that he’s worth this. And that I need
it, and maybe he does, too.

I press on.