2015-08-21
351
Axel
Title Page
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Axel
Corps Security, Book 1
A novel by Harper Sloan
Text Copyright © 2013 by E.S. Harper. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior express, written consent of the author.
ISBN:
All characters and events in this book are fictional; any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is intended for mature adults only.
Cover Art Designed by SueBee
Cover Art Image by Aleksandr Doodko
Editing by Brenda Wright and Samantha Sykula
You can contact Harper Sloan here:
authorharpersloan@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/harpersloanbooks
www.goodreads.com/harper_sloan
Twitter: @HarperSloan
Instagram: @Harper_Sloan
Axel
Acknowledgments:
Author Notes:
Dedication:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Acknowledgments:
To my husband for dealing with my scattered mind and messy house while I was ‘dreaming’. Thank you for all those times you watched our girls while I created this book. I love you.
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To my girls, dreams can come true. Dream big and don’t ever stop! This is for you.
To my mom, the best damn mommager EVER!
To all the family and friends that helped me along the way. I don’t think I would have been able to make Axel what it is without!
To Angela- here’s to wine, cold pizza, and basement zombies. I love you! Thank you for answering my every text, email and call during this process! **Cheers to Dee**
To my ‘Bookettes’ for inspiring me to write this book and keeping me calm along the way. (The daily dose of half-naked men emails helped too!) If it wouldn’t have been for one email that said “you should write a book” I don’t know if Axel would be here. So, I owe y’all!
ALL the girls who read every single page that I wrote during this process. This book is what it is because of every single bit of help from you ladies! (A special thank you to Katie, girl I fear your frying pan skills! And Kelly for the support, hunky picture and your mad google image searching skills! You two girls, I heart you!)
Andrea Smith, thank you for all your help along the way. You’ve been an inspiration!
SueBee, thank you for bringing my vision for the series covers to life. You are amazing!
Brenda, thank you so much for taking my book and making this process possible! <3
Sam, you made the editing process as painless as possible! Thank you for all of the reading, editing, and best freaking commentary ever!
My ‘second eyes’, Angela Cetrangola and Dana Dean. Without y’all I might have pulled my hair out during the editing days! My brain loves you!!
SPECIAL THANKS TO: My BBG Pher (xoxo), Melissa (you perv…you rock!), Megan Williams, Wendy O’Hera-Perry, Allison, Tokies, Alisha, Tessa, LB, Nicky, Penny, Molly, Maria, Jolene, Andrea, Cathy, Misty, Felicia, Brittany, Deborah, Jen, Paula, Angel, Felicia, Ashley, Ruthie, Tarrinasha, Jenny, Amanda, and Ashleigh. To each and every one of my Goodreads friends and loyal supporters. Y’all never doubted me & in turn made it possible to not doubt myself. I have, hands down, the best GR friends in the world! Lastly, my IG mommas, I effin’ love y’all!
If I forgot anyone, this is for you—THANK YOU!
Author Notes:
It is my personal belief that music can turn any ordinary situation into something magical. I have ALWAYS been a huge fan of losing myself in a song. When I was writing Axel, there wasn’t a second that my iTunes wasn’t rocking away. There were songs that I had to set on repeat a few times because they just made me feel the scene at a whole new level. Especially when I needed to step into psycho. SO—this is my Axel playlist. Some songs mean more than others, some just made me smile, and some made me feel.
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Ed Sheeran- Lego House
Ben Harper- Walk Away
Rihanna- Stay
Tim McMorris-Overwhelmed
Fall Out Boy- My Song Know What you Did in the Dark
Macklemore & Ryan Lewis-Can’t Hold Us
Christina Aguilera-Just a Fool
Incubus-I Miss You
Dave Matthews Band-Crash Into Me
Lady Antebellum-Need You Now
Rascal Flatts-Stand
Zedd-Clarity
Miranda Lambert-Over You
P!nk- Try
Maroon 5-Sad (particularly the version Amber Carrington sang on The Voice)
Train-Marry Me
Taylor Swift-Mean
Emeli Sande-Next to Me
Gavin Degraw-More Than Anyone
Coldplay-Fix You
Christina Perri-A Thousand Years
NSYNC-Gone
Disturbed-Down with the Sickness
Eli Young Band- Crazy Girl
will.i.am ft. Miley Cyrus- Fall Down
To connect a little deeper with the story and characters visit the Pinterest boards www.pinterest.com/harpersloan
Author Warning:
As a reader myself, I know how important it is to be aware of ‘hot button’ issues that could trigger painful memories for some. Axel is a story about love. The greatest love that you could find in a lifetime, the undying kind. But, Axel and Izzy didn’t have an easy road and unfortunately to tell their story, I had to tell the story of Izzy’s hard times. There is a scene that shows the darker side to a bad marriage. There is a scene, however brief it may be, dealing domestic violence. I feel it is my job to advise the reader of this violent episode. With that in mind, please note that this is not a book that focuses on that violence but the strength within Izzy to overcome and the love between her and Axel.
This book is intended for a mature reading audience and isn’t suitable for readers under 18. Brash language, sexual hotness, delectable alpha males, and adult situations are all over this book—you have been warned! **wink**
Enjoy! I hope you fall in love with Axel, Izzy & their story!
Dedication:
To my daughters
M, T, & A
I love you three little ladies to the moon and back!
Prologue
God…please let him be late. Traffic? Boss needed help? Hell, at this point I would even pray for his shoe being untied.
ANYTHING to give me just five extra minutes.
Taking a frustrated breath, I remember…I gave up pleading to the heavens years ago. Ten years to be exact. The day he walked out of my life. The day the sun stopped shining and my world turned gray. The day that my dreams turned into nightmares. I miss my dreams, the sun, and I miss him. So fucking much, even though I know I shouldn’t. After all, what good does it do to miss a ghost?
Come on…come on… I silently beg the light to change. Why is it that the only time I am running late, every single light catches me? “Fuck! Just fucking change!” I just know if I am not home in the next ten minutes all hell will break loose. Finally, as soon as the light turns green I slam on the gas. All I needed to do was hurry, everything will be fine.
Right?
I roll into the driveway at 5:45, throw the car in park and rush into the house. Thankfully I had enough foresight when I left earlier to start the slow cooker. “Okay, Okay…” I mutter to myself, while rushing around the kitchen island to the table. If I didn’t hurry…nope, I can’t go there. There would cause me to lock up in fear, and cutting it this close, I can’t lock up.
“Deep breath, Iz…just breathe.” I remind myself, setting the bowls of chili down. As quickly as I can manage I set the table, make sure the glasses are spot free and the silverware is perfectly aligned. I was not going to make those mistakes again. Rushing back to the kitchen, I make sure I have washed and dried all the cookware, and signs of my slow cooker use. I have just enough time to make sure that my ‘face’, as he so lovingly calls it, doesn’t look like I just rushed my duties.
At 6:05, on the dot, I hear the garage door rolling up. Breathe. A few moments later, he walks in. Of course, he would never be running late. God forbid he would make it home a minute past his normal scheduled time. The world might end, sky might fall, and pigs might start flying.
No, not my husband; he is never off his game.
“Good evening, Isabelle. How was your day?” He asks, while unloading his arms of his coat, briefcase, and keys. He makes sure his coat is hung perfectly; wrinkles wouldn’t dare mess with him. Even they know not to poke the bear. After he disposes of his cell, wallet, and other pocket shit, he finally looks up at me with his cold, dead eyes.
Permission to speak has silently been granted.
“Good evening, Brandon. Things were normal as always today. Did some laundry, ran the errands you asked me to do, and got home around 3:00. I know you said your parents were thinking of coming this weekend, so I wanted to make sure I had enough time to get the spare room situated before I started dinner.”
Lies, all lies…just enough to hopefully make him think I wasn’t out.
“Hmmm.” he states, while rolling his sleeves up. “So,” he looks up with his evil smirk and those dead eyes. “That wasn’t you I just saw speeding down Oak Street like the bats of hell were on your bumper, Isabelle?”
Fuck. Me.
“Brandon, I swear it’s not what you think.” I squeak out. Shit, this is going to be bad. “Dee stopped by, she was in town and just wanted to say hi, catch up a little. I haven’t seen her in six months- -”
His smile stops me cold, immediately I start backing away. Oh shit, I know that look.
“Now, now…Isabelle. What have I told you about Denise? Hmm? If I remember correctly, it was something along the lines of you are not to talk, call or take calls from her, and you are definitely not to FUCKING SEE HER!”
He is starting to step closer now. Frantically I look around for an escape, but he is blocking my only exit. “You have been told, and I would have thought you learned this lesson six months ago. Isn’t that how long you said it’s been? What do I need to do for you to get it through your dumb fucking head? Jesus Christ, you’re a stupid fucking bitch.” His eyes are so cold as he steps right into my space. “What part of you being mine, and only mine did you not understand the last time I was forced to explain this to you. I will not share you with fucking anyone. Do you hear me, Isabelle?” He sneers my name like its very presence on his tongue disgusts him. I have hit panic mode now, he has me backed into the wall, no escape in sight. “No fucking person in this goddamn world is allowed you. Only. Fucking. Me!” He continues his eyes bugging out and his spit hitting me in the face. “You’re nothing but a stupid fucking slut, isn’t that right Isabelle? I should have walked the other way that night at Fire. I should have known a bar slut from a mile away. But, no! It’s all your fault my dick wouldn’t walk the other way.” He rears back and slaps me hard across my cheek. I squeeze my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep from screaming out. I can feel the blood running down my neck from the cut his ring must have caused on my jaw. I might be stuck, but I’ll be damned if I will let him break me.
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“What did I fucking say, Isabelle? NO DENISE! No afternoons chatting like little fucking bitches. You are to be here, cleaning my fucking house, cooking my fucking dinner, and spreading your fat fucking thighs for my dick!” He reaches out and grabs a bowl of chili, throwing it with all his strength against the wall. I watch chunks of meat, beans and sauce run down my happy yellow walls. “And what in the fuck is this shit? I told you, you fucking bitch, I wanted lasagna. Does that look like lasagna?” I should have seen it coming, but my attention was still focused on my happy yellow walls and the globs of dinner still rolling down. I was just turning back to him when his fist hit my temple, momentarily making my vision blur. At least that seems to have knocked some sense into my sluggish brain. I dart to the right, quickly trying to escape the second fist I know will soon be following. Too late, always too late, I catch the second one in the ribs, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Brandon grabs my thick hair and with a twist of his wrist I’m right back at his mercy.
Mercy I know he doesn’t have.
Throwing me into the hallway, with what feels like the strength of ten men, he is quick to follow with a kick to my stomach. “You stupid bitch. You just can’t listen. I own you, all of you. No one else. No one else touches what is MINE. Especially not fucking DENISE! I warned you what would happen. No, I promised your dumb ass what would happen if you went near her again.” Kick…slap…punch…kick. “You’re never going to learn are you?” He is panting with exertion and it is taking everything I have not to let the blackness overcome me. Even if I know numbness would be following quickly.
I lost track of how long he stood over me, screaming and beating, alternating between his feet and his fist.
Freedom, that’s all I crave now.
I close my eyes and pass out.
*~*~*
When I wake up, the house is dark. Every bone, muscle, and hair on my head hurt. I can’t take a deep breath without wanting to die. I can feel wetness on various parts of my head and body. Fuck. It has never been this bad. I can’t hear anything out of my left ear, what the hell happened to my ear? Fuck, I need to move. Clutching my arm around my middle, I slowly climb to my feet. I take a look around, out of my very swollen eyes, and see that dinner is still sitting on the table. The broken bowl, chili dried to the wall, and even the spotless cups are sitting there mocking me. With a slow and silent step I glance into the living room. No sign of Brandon. Shuffling, more like dragging myself to the kitchen, I see his keys are gone. Holy shit! He’s not here. Never, not once in six years has he left me alone in the house after a ‘lesson’.
I walk along the wall, holding on for support until I reach my purse, unzipping the side zipper; I reach in and take out my phone. The phone Brandon doesn’t know I have. I’m not allowed to have a phone, and he disconnects the house phone and takes it with him when he leaves. I can barely see enough to turn the phone on. I slide my finger across the screen and unlock it. Finally, after a few wrong buttons, I place the call.
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“Hello? Hello, Iz? Iz, are you there? Is everything okay? IZ??” I can hear her, she’s practically screaming. But I can’t get the words out. She knows I wouldn’t be calling this late. Hell, she knows I wouldn’t call at all.
I take a shallow breath, and rasp out the only word I need to bring my salvation.
“Help…” Then the blackness pulls me under.
Chapter 1
I haven’t always been this weak person; this broken woman. I used to dream, and when I did, I dreamt big. I had plans, plans of a future so bright it would blind you. I can still remember the day those dreams, those grand plans, and that future as bright as the sun went poof.
I just didn’t know it at the time.
At the time I thought everything would be okay. After all, what seventeen year old girl doesn’t think she is invincible?
That, coincidently, was the same day I decided fate hated me. No, she didn’t hate me…she loathed me. People say karma is a bitch but I have news for you, karma doesn’t have anything on fate when she is after blood. Not a single thing.
I wish I knew what it was that set fate on the path of my doom. Maybe it was just being born? I like to think I was at least okay there. My parents loved me, they prayed for me, and I was everything to them. So, no, I don’t think that was the day.
Or it could have been the day I stole Maggie Jones’ pudding cup. But Maggie was a bully, never nice and always stuffing her face, so I like to think I did her a favor.
I once stole a chocolate bar from the grocery store, but seriously? Fate would have been after every little teenage shit if that was the case; point fingers all you want but where I come from it is like a rite of passage.
No, I think fate decided she hated me the day I walked into Dale High School freshman year and my path collided with Axel’s. It would make sense that the reason she hated me was the reason for all my pain.
The reason I am convinced fate will never shine in my favor again. Why would she? She took it all away. Wiped out every single thing I had ever loved in one swift kick.
One day I might figure it out, the reason fate hated me, Isabelle West. But, until that day I damn sure will be careful with my dreams and my plans; my heart and my soul.
Fate might hate me, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping one day she forgets about her favorite chew toy. When that day comes I hope karma has some fun with that bitch, fate.
*~*~*
(2 years later)
I can feel the sun warming my skin. I love this blissful state between sleep and just waking up. It reminds me of being numb. You haven’t hit the switch to turn on your mind, giving it permission to process and remember. You are just there. I love waking up feeling the sun warming my skin; it reminds me that I am alive. Alive and surviving.
I sigh and roll over in bed, laughing when I see the stupid body pillow dressed like a man; with an oddly lifelike face drawn on the top. Dee had insisted that I needed it in my life. Her theory was, if I didn’t want a man at least I wouldn’t sleep lonely. Whatever that meant. I stopped trying to understand all that is Dee years ago. She had been my best friend for the last eleven years. She was the sister I never had and I knew without a doubt in my mind that she would always have my back.
We met when I was eighteen and pissed at the world. She had been bopping all over the room during freshman orientation, smiling at everyone that would look at her. She had taken one look at me and decided we would be the best of buds. I think she saw the broken soul inside me, and with her infectious happiness decided she would be my medication. She was by my side with every up and every down; and trust me there were a lot of downs. She was my biggest cheerleader and supporter and she singlehandedly brought light back into my life.
She picked me up when I had fallen, dusted me off and helped me heal.
She did it again two years ago. No questions asked. She dropped everything, ran to my rescue and helped me heal again.
We had lost that ‘sisterhood’ for a little while when I was married to Brandon. It wasn’t easy, but I was able to keep in touch with her with stolen calls and secret meetings. I knew she worried, she knew things weren’t good at home, but Dee being Dee came with a smile and the knowledge that if I needed her she would be there.
And she didn’t lie; she dropped everything and ran with one word.
I know she felt somewhat guilty for introducing us. It was unjustified but it was there. I could see it sometimes in her eyes when we would be spending time together, with a few bottles of wine between us. She hid it well, I will give her that, but I knew my girl and with a heart that big she couldn’t help it.
I met Brandon when I was twenty-one, carefree and looking to numb my world with drinking and parties.
He was the first man I had given a second glance to after Axel. It had been almost four years and I was ready to try and love again.
Oh, how blind I had been.
Brandon was, on the outside, perfect. He was a few years older than me, already graduated from the University of North Carolina and established within his father’s accounting firm. He was successful and quickly on his way to even bigger things. He wasn’t overly tall, just shy of six feet, with a lean runner’s body. Sandy brown hair, and brown eyes. He was the perfect boyfriend, showering me in romance, extravagant vacations and gifts, always showing up to take me on surprise trips, doing all the little things we always think makes a man perfect. Six months after we met, that perfect boyfriend became my fiancé, and four months later I became Mrs. Brandon Hunter.
Then the Brandon I had met and fallen in love with slowly changed. Gradually he began distancing me from my family, friends and most importantly Dee. He knew of all the bonds I had, hers was the strongest. I became a prisoner in my own life. I know my grandparents worried, but he was slick, and always came up with the perfect reason we couldn’t come or when the rare occasions came that we did, he was always called home for some reason. Dee was harder for him to brush off, but he did. Or at least he thought he did. He was good; I’ll give him that, the master of control and manipulation.
And he downright terrified me.
The beatings didn’t start until we had been married for about two years. I had gone to see Dee when I was supposed to be picking up his dry cleaning. I missed my best friend, and I had honestly thought I could be in and out before he noticed. But, Brandon Hunter noticed everything.
They weren’t bad at first, a slap here and there for whatever offense he deemed beat-worthy. Eventually though it didn’t take much, I could sneeze and if he didn’t like it, I was sporting a black eye the next day.
He had played his hand right and I was well and truly stuck. Cut off from those I loved and so terrified of his wrath; I wasn’t going anywhere.
Those were the years I prayed and prayed for Axel to find his way back to me. Every single horrible day I was at the receiving end of Brandon’s fist I tried to take myself to another place. To a place where Axel was, ready to take me away and be my hero. But, I eventually had to face the facts…my hero was gone.
Closing my eyes; I think back to the time my life was the happiest. Twelve years ago to be exact.
“I can’t believe this is our last night together for six months, I’m going to miss you so much, baby.” I look up into his bright green eyes. God, I love his eyes. I think I would be happy to just sit here and look at his handsome face for hours.
Get lost in him.
How will I make it without him?
This boy I love more than anything.
I lay my head back down on his warm chest; feeling his strong heart beating under my ear.
I’ve known this beautiful boy since I was fourteen and Axel has been the love of my life for the last three years. Not a day has gone by without him in it. How am I going to go just one day without him, never mind six months?
“Babe, quit. It will be over before you know it and I will be back to get my girl.” I hear him rumble under my ear, knowing exactly what is running through my mind.
We’ve been laying here, in his tiny twin bed for hours, just getting lost in each other. I know he hates being in this house.
His foster family isn’t a bad foster family, well as far as they come I guess. He might as well be a meal ticket for them, but they leave him alone. I get the impression they are counting down the seconds before he leaves for basic training, get his body out and a new one in. They wouldn’t want their check to be short, greedy assholes. His foster parents have never liked me. I don’t think I will ever understand why, but Axel thinks it’s because I have been around the last three years, taking up space and eating their food. Who knows, I just can’t wait for him to be free of them.
I can’t believe my beautiful boy is leaving for the Marines tomorrow, Marines…God, Ax is really leaving. I haven’t let myself think about what could happen to him when he leaves. Axel was born a fighter, a survivor, nothing would happen to him and I just had to believe that.
He starts to shift under me, sliding out from under my body and rolling onto his side facing me. I look into his bright, twinkling eyes again, smiling up at him. He really is perfect. Thick messy black hair, sticking up in disheveled waves from me running my hands through it, his strong cheekbones and powerful jaw always remind me of how ruthless he can be. I trace my finger down his perfectly straight nose, and then run it along the thick lips I love to get lost in; tracing first the top and then the bottom. His lips twitch, and that lazy grin I love so much pops onto his face.
“What are you thinking about, Princess?”
“God, Ax, just about how much I’m going to miss you; you promise to come back to me?” I ask him, with the tears coming back into my eyes and the melancholy that has been a constant presence since his graduation Friday night returns.
“Just try and keep me away.” He says, leaning in to capture my lips in a toe-curling kiss. His tongue licks my bottom lip, and then he catches it in between his teeth, lightly biting down. I open my mouth to let him in and capture his moan down my throat. Pushing his shoulder, I roll him underneath me, feeling his already hard cock nestle within my wet core.
“Mmmm, babe, already?” he groans.
“Always, Axel, I am always ready for you.” I say as I lift up and help guide him inside my body.
As I begin to move with a perfectly mastered rhythm over his lean, hard body, I think to myself how hard it’s going to be to drop my boyfriend off at the bus tomorrow, knowing it’s going to be six long months before I see him again.
Little did I know, the last time I look into these eyes would be when he turns around to wave while walking up the steps to the bus, the bus taking my heart with it.
A heart that never returns to me.
*~*~*
Like I said, I haven’t always been this weak woman. I don’t think anyone wakes up and says “Hey, today I think I will be weak, broken and completely fucked up!” I certainly didn’t. I think I have worked hard to become who I am today. With the help of Dr. Maxwell (and Dee, of course) I have slowly become the me I once was.
It hasn’t been easy, and I still have my moments. I can’t hear my full name without it taking me back to the dark years with Brandon. I started taking the steps to finalize our divorce about six months ago. The same time I had finally healed enough to start moving on. I started my own web design company, something I had always loved to do and it seemed like the perfect choice. I felt comfortable being able to work out of the house Dee and I shared. Safer.
Brandon wasn’t making things easy for me. One would think with a clear, black and white police report and hospital records showing what the marriage to him had done to me I wouldn’t have any issues with a quick divorce. But no…nothing ever came easy for me. I’ve been fighting with him the whole time. Through lawyers of course. I haven’t actually seen him since the day I was released from the hospital two years ago.
That was also the day that Dee and my duo became a trio.
The day I met Greg.
Where Dee was my sister; Greg was my brother.
Bonds so tight it would be almost impossible to break.
Greg was our protector, whether we wanted him or not. He looked out for us, and didn’t shy away from Friday nights spent in watching chick flicks and eating junk food.
I met Greg the day I was released from the hospital after a week stay, healing from Brandon’s final beating. Dee had been there to pick me up, she pulled up in a minivan with the back loaded up full of boxes. Looking back now I can laugh, but the look on her face when I asked her why she had the boxes was priceless. She looked me dead in the eyes with the fiercest expression she could muster and said, “Girl, if you think I will leave you here with that piece of sorry shit husband you are nuts. Nope, no way. We are packing you up and hitting the road. The world is our oyster or something like that.” She then explained that she had the local sheriff meeting us there to make sure Bastard Brandon doesn’t try anything. Dee was ready for anything, she told me not only would the law be there to look over things but she had one of her friends meeting us there. She didn’t get into detail, and I didn’t care. I wanted it over.
When we pulled up to the house I shared with Brandon, he was of course there and raging mad. I had sat in the passenger seat shaking like a leaf; Dee came around and helped me out, using her tiny body as a shield. I kept my eyes down, until they met two huge booted feet in my path. Following those boots up thick thighs, a rock solid chest and powerful arms, I looked up into thunderous blue eyes. He was a huge man, easily a foot over my five foot three. With his expression I immediately shrunk back, hoping it wasn’t noticeable but nothing escaped this man’s eyes. He carefully schooled his expression and tucked me under his arm, throwing a thick arm over my shoulders. As he guided me into the house, he softly said, “Don’t you worry, baby girl, we’ve got you now.” I don’t know what it was, but when I met Greg that day all it took were those words to instantly set me at ease.
An hour later we had six years of my life boxed and loaded.
I had left it all, only taking my clothes, important documents, pictures from my childhood, and small treasures I had hidden away from my life before Brandon.
I haven’t looked back since.
I rolled out of bed about an hour after I woke, I might feel alive, but today I was alive with one bitch of a hangover. Looking at the clock, I shook my head at the time. How the hell did I sleep this late? That’s right, Dee. Dee is how I slept this late. Crazy chick got home last night and thought we should spend the evening with Jack. One of these days she is going to remember that me and Jack, we are not friends. Never had been, never would be. Nights spent with Jack always bring me to the same spot. Hung over and pissed off. Damn, Dee, she better have breakfast ready this morning, er…afternoon.
What did I let her talk me into last night? The last thing I remember is Dee coming home from work with a big ass brown bag in her arms, screaming “liquor delivery bitch”! I guess that’s what happens when you have been friends with someone for so long. She knew I needed her, and damn it, I needed Jack. So, her announcement was met with red rimmed eyes, ratty sweats, and a best friend on her third carton of ice cream.
She knew me, and she knew I would be hurting this weekend. So, instead of letting me drink myself stupid alone, she grabbed two glasses and proceeded to get wasted with me. Helping me forget, helping me numb my mind, and just being there.
Walking over to my desk, trying to clear the fog from last night’s bender, I look down at my desk calendar and triple check the date. Yup, still August 8th. My thirtieth birthday. Also the twelve year anniversary of what is still the worst day of my life. Getting into the shower, without the aid of Jack, I can’t stop my mind from wandering back in time.
“GRAM!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Gram, oh my God, GRAM!! There’s blood, so much blood, Gram! What do I do? Why is there so so much…why is there any?” I’ve reached complete hysterical break down proportions with my wailing.
This can’t be happening! There is no way God would be so cruel to take this too!
I crash down onto my knees, doubling over and curling into myself, screaming and praying…praying and screaming. Sobbing big huge gasping sobs.
Pop’s voice finally reaches my grief-filled mind, picking my small frame up and carrying me out to his truck. “Here we go my little one, buckle up and have no worries for your beautiful heart; Pop’s got you now.”
Shaking my head, I come back from that horrible day. My eighteenth birthday is still, twelve years later, marking all the birthdays that follow with heart stopping pain. One day, I promise myself, one day I will be able to wake up on my birthday and smile. I can’t wait for that day.
Feeling slightly more human than I did a half hour ago, I throw my fluffy robe over my naked skin and take off to find my best friend.
I walk into the kitchen and smile down at the note from Dee.
Yo! Made you some grub, eat…shower, because I bet you smell like yesterday’s shit. I had to run into the office, but be ready…I’ll be home around noon. We have some serious shopping and pampering to do! That’s right, not getting out of it! LOVE-me!
Picking up the salad from the fast food joint up the street, I plop down with a smile. Made me some grub, my ass. More like drove two seconds away and paid someone else to do it. Leave it to Dee, busy as always on a Friday before a long weekend, still making sure I eat and take care of myself. Times like this remind me how lucky I am to have her in my life; I really don’t know what I would do without her. She has saved me from myself more often than I can count. Knowing she will be home in an hour is just more proof of that. She knows I need her this weekend, so she is closing up shop half a day early.
I finish up lunch and then tidy up the kitchen. I return to my room to collect some laundry and get some house work done before Dee gets home, anything to try to keep my mind free of bad memories.
I know she means well, but I would much rather stay home and just be alone.
I understand why she wants to keep me busy, I really do, but I just don’t think I will be able to do it. Another year of going through the ‘normal’ motions. Another year missing him, missing them, missing everything.
A quick peek at the clock has me picking up my speed. Little Miss Happiness should be floating in soon; I at least need to be ready before the rainbows and glitter start fucking with me.
I’m deep in my closet, trying unsuccessfully to find something to wear today when I hear her…singing. Laughing to myself, I let a smile crack my face. Dee can’t hold a tune to save her life, but that will never stop her.
She comes bouncing in my room, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey you sexy bitch, I see you decided to rock the birthday suit today. Nice choice, although, we might have some issues getting into the mall like that. I think there might be laws against this. But, hey, more power to you!” She smacks my ass on the way over to park it on my bed.
“What the hell, Dee! Door. Closed. Knock!” I try to scowl at her the way Greg always does to us, but end up laughing right along with her giggles.
She flops her flat stomach down onto my bed. “So, my sexy ‘older’ friend, what will be worn on your naked self today? I assume that is what you are doing digging around in that closet of yours.”
“I don’t know Dee,” I don’t have to fake the scowl this time, “do we have to do this today? Can’t we just stay in today? I really don’t think I am going to make good company, at all.” I’m pleading with her, and I am willing to bet I sound as desperate as I feel. I know I won’t be pleasant to be around today. I had planned on a repeat of last night. Shit faced, falling down, rip roaring drunk. Healthy? No, but it worked and why should I mess with a bad thing?
“Iz, get your skinny ass ready now. We’re going to drive down to the mall, get a new hot as fuck outfit for both of us, go see Sway at the salon and have some serious pampering before Greg comes over to take us to dinner tonight. You aren’t going to sit at home alone; I know that’s your plan. Not again, Iz, not this year.”
Her eyebrows are puckering, and she looks like she will drag me out of here naked if I don’t agree. Jesus. There really is no sense in arguing with her when she gets this worked up. I’ll just come up with some excuse later, and ditch her and Greg for a night at home with Jack.
Now, that’s a plan with some promise.
Chapter 2
We’ve been shopping for hours. Or at least it feels like hours to a person who does not enjoy shopping. Dee started dragging me around the second we walked through the doors. She is a woman on a mission.
We were in our second store; second store after the three different lingerie stores. I had more freaking panties than I would need in a lifetime. Apparently, step one of Dee’s master plan was making sure I had new everything. I put my foot down the second I noticed her intent. No freaking way.
After a small fight, she finally agreed; one outfit, one complete outfit, and that’s all.
And that brings us to now.
I have tried on what feels like the whole entire dress department. There is always something she finds wrong with each one. Finally, she thrust a bright candy apple red scarf at me. I say scarf because there is no way there is enough material to call this a dress.
“Uh, Dee…where is the rest of it?” I question.
“That’s it, Iz. I just know it, that is the dress!” She’s bouncing, literally bouncing up and down in place. Her curly hair is jumping right along with her. If I wasn’t so annoyed I would think she was pretty damn cute right now.
“There is no way I am wearing that, Dee. Is there even a back on that thing? And, and my vagina is seriously going to be playing peekaboo all night. There is no way, no way at all.” I’m practically panting with anxiety. I’ve spent the last two years hiding my body. I had lost all the weight I gained during my marriage, but I still see the fat girl I once was when I look in the mirror. Dee was constantly on my ass to stop wearing my ‘ratty ass jeans and man shirts’, which is what she affectionately calls my lack of style. I like my style, jeans and tees, it’s easy and perfect.
Shit.
Sighing, I look down at the scrap of beautiful red material, thinking to myself, it’s just one night, one night of wearing a scarf to keep that smile on Dee’s face. After everything she has done, parading around with my vagina smiling at the world is a small price to pay.
“Alright, you pushy little shit, I’ll see what it looks like on, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t work.” I tell her with fake exasperation.
Turning from her smiling face, I step into the dressing room and remove my street clothes once again. Once I pull the miniscule piece of fashion over my hips, I bring the tiny strings that will hold this ‘dress’ on my body over my arms and set them in place on my shoulders. Reaching behind me for the zipper, I meet bare skin. Called it, I thought to myself. Placing my palm against my back, I confirm that there is in fact, no back. I slowly turn around and face the mirror, sealing my fate. Unable to stop the small gasp that escapes my lips, I look myself up and down.
Is that me?
The dress fits perfectly, but then again with Dee, I knew it would. The front of the dress fits snuggly across my chest, making my average sized chest look a cup larger than my small C’s. The straight neckline starts just under my collarbone, essentially covering everything. The small straps go over my shoulders making my frame look sleek and petite.
Not too bad.
Taking a deep breath, I turn around to check out the damage. Another small gasp escapes before I bite my lip and I take in everything the back lacks. You can see the straps holding the dress up, hugging my shoulders as if they fear any second they could snap. I follow the exposed line of my spine all the way down to the two dimples above my ass, and the small piece of red fabric hugging my cheeks, barely.
How am I supposed to wear underwear with this dress?
Dee chooses this moment to start tapping on the dressing room door impatiently.
“Izzzzzy,” she sings, “Izzy, I know what you’re doing in there. Stop freaking your freak and let me see!”
I crack the door, giving her another one of Greg’s mean looks. “I’m going to kill you for this.”
She laughs as she pushes herself into the dressing room with me, taking me in from top to bottom, and then back again. The smile that comes over her face creeps me the hell out, I don’t think I have ever seen that look before. She looks so… shit …she is practically oozing joy.
“I knew it, I just knew it. Izzy, you have been hiding this banging body for way too long. No more, maybe we should keep shopping,” she looks down at her watch, “there’s still time. I could have you outfitted in a few hours. The works, dresses, skirts, slacks, blouses…” She trails off; I don’t even think she is speaking to me anymore. I am almost a hundred percent sure her eyes have just glossed over.
“Denise Anne Roberts, you calm yourself downright the hell now. I told you one outfit, ONE, I did not say we would spend the rest of eternity buying the whole damn mall. One, Dee, one dress. I already caved on the lingerie.” I whisper sharply at her.
She gives me a hurt look before that creepy little grin comes back.
“Okay, okay…damn Iz, no more clothes for now. But, one day you will let me do a complete makeover. We still need shoes, so let’s go birthday girl, get naked and let me have that awesome dress while you put those ratty ass jeans and ugly ass man shirt back on.”
She’s bouncing again, and damn it, even though I smile I’m slightly worried about what I just got myself into.
Two hours later we finally reach the salon and our favorite stylist in the world, Sway. Sway is a short, fat African-American man, with long platinum blond hair. When he isn’t rocking his trademark heels I can almost look him in the eye. Sway, whose real name is Dilbert Harrison, III, is the funniest man I have ever met. How often, in small-town Georgia, does a small black man come up to you with four inch heels, skinny jeans, and a tight fitting shirt, kiss both cheeks and pronounce you looking “marvelous, darling”? Not very often, I promise you that.
Sway has been itching to get his hands on my thick, long mahogany hair. He was shocked the first time he styled it, when I told him I didn’t touch color products. I have always been blessed with perfect hair. Dark brown with so many different shades of auburn that when the sun hit it you could almost see it set fire.
Exhausted from my shopping mission with Dee, I sat down and told him to go for it, whatever he wanted.
“Sweet baby Jesus in a manger…sweet child, oh Lord have mercy, please tell Sway that I am not hearing things?” He turns his excited eyes on me with a look of elation, pure elation.
“Go for it, Sway, just please don’t make me regret this.” Smiling at him through the mirror, I let myself drift off.
The first time I met Sway was when Dee and I arrived in town two years before. He was our second stop after unloading all of her stuff and my few boxes at our new house. Dee had explained to me on the drive that this was our new chapter in life. A chance to start from scratch and become new people. I knew what she was giving up to run with me. She had a very successful insurance company in Bakersville, North Carolina. Luckily she was your typical trust fund baby, so it wasn’t hard for her to up and leave. She left her second in command in charge with plans on expanding wherever we landed. We took everything we owned and drove South. The one and only saving grace I had was an account Dee had helped me set up with the money my grandfather had left me when he passed away five years ago.
Her money had bought us the house, but mine had insured I had time to heal before I needed to make any plans.
The one plan I did make immediately was to get rid of the Stepford wife look Brandon had pressed upon me. Sway had tried but it took time, and finally my hair was long and lush again, falling almost to my ass in thick waves. I didn’t look a lot like that scared housewife anymore, thank Christ for that.
Sway is muttering off and on about the newest purses he just picked up at the Coach store, the earrings he planned on matching with each new purse, and which heels he would wear with what. I swear that this man was done a great injustice when he came out with a dick.
“Oh honey, did I tell you about the new man that just bought up the space next door? Oh sweet love of all the Gods above, he is huge, darling, just huge. I bet he is huge everywhere, if you know what I mean?” He looks down at me with such seriousness that it takes me a minute to follow the flow from purses to man candy.
“What? Oh, right…good looking, huh?” I respond, hoping I am following.
“Girl, you have no idea. What Sway wouldn’t do to catch the eye of that walking wet dream. He was at least seven feet tall, at least. Huge, I am talking muscles on his muscles. I do not know how his shirt stayed together it was stretched so tight against that sexy chest and those fine arms. Makes me want to just fall at his feet and pray he swings my way. But, I tell you this, there is no way a man as man as him swings for the rainbow. No way. Shame for Sway, but girlfriend, as beautiful as you are, this is good news. Best news. We should set something up. You would love him. Thick black hair, now I would love to get my hands on that thick mop of lusciousness…yes I would.” Did I mention Sway could exaggerate slightly when he got excited?
I’m starting to get a little concerned about the orgasm Sway seems to be having about this man while he is holding scissors to my head. This could be bad.
I smile hesitantly up at Sway and his dreamy eyes, “Sway, babe you know I love you, but I have no interest in you fixing me up. None, so get it out of your head right now.”
“Oh girl, one of these days you will meet a man and he is going to knock you right on your ass! Mark my words girlfriend. Knock you straight on that perfect little ass!” He replies with a naughty grin.
“Doubtful, Sway, I am done with the male gender. I might even take a page out of your book and start batting for my own team.” I laugh and sit back, allowing myself to relax now that the scissor wielding man has calmed down.
Dee and I finish up with Sway, and his minions of beauty, right around five, with just enough time to rush home and get dressed before Greg comes to take us to dinner.
Pulling up to the house I notice a package on the step. Calling out to Dee, I step out of the car and grab a few bags, stopping to pick up the package and unlock the door. Dropping the bags in my hand, I quickly disarm the security system and make my way into the kitchen. Dee comes in right when I drop the package on the island and turn for a knife.
“What’s that?” she asks.
“Not sure, no return address, probably something from a client for my birthday.” I reply, distracted by my mission to cut away the tape.
Dee goes about her own business, walking down the hall to her room, surely to start her getting ready process.
Cutting the rest of the packaging tape away, I peel open the flaps and start moving around the packaging popcorn.
I move a folded piece of paper out of the way, placing it on the counter and remove what appears to be a frame. Carefully turning it over, I gasp and drop the picture to the ground, shattering the glass all around my feet.
Dee comes running down the hall at my noise, trying to figure out what has me so spooked. She bends down and picks up the frame, turning it over to reveal the picture.
“That motherfucker,” she says under her breath. “What a fucking motherfucker!” She screams.
Through the tears streaming down from my eyes, I look down at the frame of Brandon and myself. He’s taken something sharp and scraped away the belly part of my body. He is looking at me through the picture with that handsome, perfect smile on his face, arm around my back holding me close to his body. I look sad but still smiling. I think this was taken our last Christmas together, at one of his company parties. The arm not behind my back was resting on the portion of my stomach he had so harshly scraped and dug off the picture.
Dee picks up the paper I had laid out on the counter. Giving a quick peek, she slams it back down looking like she could spout steam at any second.
“Bastard, that bastard…I’m going to cut off his balls and feed them to him before I kill him with my bare hands, fucker.” She starts looking around for her phone, momentarily forgetting she had left the paper where I could see it.
I look down, and in his angry scrawl I read, “Feeling empty today? How old would the bastard be this year? Happy birthday, dear wife.”
Surprisingly the sobs didn’t start right away, I stood there just looking down at the paper for the longest time, and when it hit, it hit hard.
Stumbling back a few steps until my back hit the wall, I slid down onto my ass, curling my legs up to my chest and wrapping an arm around myself protectively. My forehead hits my knees and everything I had been carefully storing in the ‘do not open’ box in my head comes pouring out. Giant, body shaking sobs, gasping for breaths between them, my whole frame is jerking violently with the force of my grief.
Dee comes rushing into the room, I can hear her on the phone but she is so far away from my understanding right now. Her arms come around me and I feel her rocking with me, still mumbling into the phone. The tears won’t stop coming and the crying is getting louder.
I have no idea how long I stayed ass to the floor in the kitchen, crying and rocking. I look up briefly when I feel strong arms wrap around me and hook under my legs, lifting me off the floor. Another sob catches my breath when I met Greg’s pained blue eyes. Resting my head on his chest, I let him take the lead. Walking over to the couch, he sits down and keeps me close to his body.
As grateful as I am for Dee, for everything she has done for me, it’s moments like this when the only thing that can make me feel safe is being held tight in Greg’s strong arms.
If anyone could understand where I was in my head right now, it was Greg.
Part of the reason that our bond was so strong was because of how much he could relate right now. About a month after I had met Greg, he sat me down and explained he had lost his sister when he was overseas. Her husband was a real prick and Greg always wondered, but never confirmed, if he was slapping her around. Unfortunately, he was never able to save his sister; she was beyond his protection when he was off fighting for everyone else’s freedom. When he met me, he said his first thought was how much I reminded him of her. That conversation wasn’t an easy one for him, but it helped me understand why he got so murderous the day he saw me standing on the curb of my old house, beaten, bruised and broken. Looking back now, I understand how he was able to recognize my fear and instead of lashing out, he took it in and turned into my lifeline; my protector. He’s been protecting me ever since.
“Baby girl? I know you’re scared. Iz, mark my fucking words, he will not touch you. Do you hear me? He won’t breathe your fucking air, I promise you that.” His fierce voice rumbles in my ears. He means it, I don’t doubt that. Greg would do anything to protect his family.
“I’ll find him, I’ve got a friend who just moved to town, Reid, he’s buying into Cage Investigation and Security. He’s been more body guard and muscle but he wants to expand into systems, installs and investigations, my shit, so we got you baby girl. He’s been a big deal out West now for a few years. Ex-marine, badass motherfucker. I’ll talk with Reid, explain the situation and we will take this. I don’t want you to even think about it, you got me, baby girl?”
How do you argue with that?
Easy, you don’t. Not when it comes to Greg Cage in protection mode.
“Yeah, Greg, I got you.”
With plans for the night squashed by one unexpected package, Greg settles down with Dee and me for movies, popcorn and beer.
I’m out before Mike takes the stage for the first scene. I vaguely hear Greg’s grumbles about watching “a fucking stripper movie” when the strippers have dicks.
Chapter 3
The next morning greets me much like yesterday. Except I’m not hung over from Jack this time. My emotional hangover is much worse. My strength seems stripped from me in a way, a way that makes it hard to remember I am not that broken and weak woman anymore. I try to remember that I survived, there is no reason to fear life anymore, I’m free and I am my own person. It’s hard, God it’s hard to remember the positive in my life. I remind myself that I don’t want to be this woman anymore, I am strong and I will overcome this.
Then I remember the picture.
The carving over my empty womb.
And then all that strength and drive to overcome flies right out the window.
Fuck strong, I just want to curl up and die.
Knock, knock…
“Uhh, Dee…come back later, I don’t want to talk right now.” I whine turning my head into the pillow.
Maybe if I’m lucky I can just go to sleep and she’ll go away.
“Not Dee, baby girl, turn over so we can talk, yeah?” Greg’s deep voice hits me, leaving no room for argument. Why ask the question? I know he won’t leave until we talk.
But, then I remember, fuck that.
“Go away, G. Not interested in hashing out life lessons right now.” My voice is muffled by the pillow. He’ll get the point and if he doesn’t... fuck him.
“Iz, get the fuck up now. Love you baby girl, but I won’t sit here while you self-destruct.”
He’s pissed, but not as pissed as me. Why can’t they just let me stay in bed, maybe bring me some more Jack, the asshole.
“Go away, Greg.”
“So fucking help me God, Izzy, get the hell up now. Shower. Talk. Breakfast. That’s all I am asking, which isn’t fucking much.”
“Not interested in helping you play Dr. Phil, Greg. I just want to go back to sleep.” More of my muffled complaints fill the air, making it thick with bullshit.
“Goddammit, Iz.” He grumbles, standing up off my bed, giving me a second to release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank God, he is leaving, was the only thought I had before the sheets were whipped off and I was flying through the air. “Not dealing with this shit, Iz. We have shit to discuss, and I do not have time to deal with you being depressed. I get it, baby girl, I understand where you are right now but you need to wake up and do it now, you have people worried about you. Dee and me are not going to let you sit here and turn into yourself again, no fucking way.” He is spitting each word out as he throws me over his shoulder and walks into the bathroom.
“GREG,” I scream, “let me down now!”
“Not going to happen.” Was the only reply I got before he dumped me into the shower, twisting the water on and slamming the curtain shut in my stunned, cold and wet face.
“I’m going to kick your ass, Greg Cage, kick it fucking hard.” I scream out at him.
I swear I hear his laughter as he walks out of the bathroom.
I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, dreading leaving the solitude of my bathroom. Getting out, I dry off, brush my hair and teeth and throw on my robe. I take a deep breath in and open the door.
There he is, giant asshole, sitting on my bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He is looking right at me, trying to look serious while suppressing his laughter.
Asshole.
“Alright, you wanted me out,” throwing my arms wide, “here I am, what is so important, huh?”
He smiles at me, letting a few gruff chuckles free. “Try and be a badass another day, Izzy. I’m fucking tired. Went to chat with Reid when I left last night. Told him a little about the situation, not everything. He knows there is a husband, not wanting to become an ex, and not being quiet about it. He doesn’t know the significance behind the picture, but it’s disturbing enough that he didn’t question me too deep last night. I want you to be honest with him, it’s important for him to do his job, Iz. He doesn’t know a thing about shit, other than this mess currently going on, and the little he needed to know about your marriage to understand the threat. He’s booked solid with shit for the next two weeks, but I told him I would keep my eyes open until we could put a plan of action into play. You meet with Reid, explain the whole situation, everything and I mean everything, and then we deal. Understand?”
I take a second to process what Greg just said, it’s a lot and I know he means well, but I do not want someone else in my business.
“Greg,” I start, “I really would feel better if it was just you dealing with this. I don’t really know this guy, and…”
“Not negotiable, Iz. I’m good, but I am not as good as Reid.”
Sighing, I look at Greg, defeated I reply, “Fine, G. You know best.”
“That’s right, baby girl. Don’t worry, Reid’s who you need. Him and the boys, between all of us, there is no fucking way that shit fuck is getting his hands on you, got me?”
“Yeah, G. I got you.”
Greg left a little while ago, leaving me with a worried Dee. A worried Dee planning another “forget the world” mission. I’m not sure I can handle another one of these. Her newest plan, continue with birthday weekend. Since yesterday’s plans went wonky she calls up Greg to let him know the plan, drinks and dancing at club Carnal.
Fabulous.
Just what I wanted.
My defeated mood continues throughout the day, and I just don’t have the strength to fight Dee on this. I can handle one night out with Dee and Greg, with drinks a plenty, and loud music to drowned out the pain.
I spend my day vegging out on the couch and just hating life in general. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? The divorce has been sitting in limbo for six long months. I didn’t want a thing, not the house, cars, or the money. Nothing that would tie me to Brandon. I was beginning to think he wouldn’t ever just go away.
Dee joined me for lunch, she didn’t say anything about the previous day but I could tell she wanted to. She was just working it out in her head; trying to figure out the best way to approach. No doubt she heard everything Greg had said too. She knew I would crawl into myself and start going back to that dark place; no way in hell she was letting that happen.
I was sitting on my bed folding laundry and avoiding the world when she walked in.
“Hey, have a second?” She asked, lacking the joy she normally greets me with.
“If you want to hash shit out, I just don’t think I have it in me today, Dee. I love you, but I just don’t know what you want to hear.” I replied, setting the laundry aside and clearing her off a spot to sit.
“I just want to see where your head’s at; make sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t know, I really don’t, Dee. I feel like there isn’t anything I can do at this point. He knows where we are, even though I hoped we could stay invisible to him. It was stupid of me to even nurture that thought. I knew he had reach, I just honestly thought he wouldn’t care. Why? I keep asking myself why he even wants to play this game?” I swallow the tears back down. I can’t go there, not again.
“Babe, we won’t ever know what goes through that sick bastard’s head. I think it’s all about letting you know he could if he wanted to. He knows you are here, knows you want the divorce, surely he knows you aren’t that girl he controlled so easily. Iz, I don’t know what his plan is, but I really think you need to speak to Greg’s friend. I would be lying to you if I said I di
