Beautifully Revealed (17 page)

I need to do this
.

I have to free myself from my past if I want to hold on to a future with Liam. I watch him from the doorway. His naked body is gloriously splayed across the bed, the sunlight beaming in the window glistening off his rippled chest. His bedraggled hair
is a reminder of the frenzied sex we had throughout the night. I needed him desperately, as if this oncoming meeting would bring an end to us. A sick feeling has rooted deep in my gut since I last saw Elaina. His arm moves from the pillow and my heart begins to pound. If he wakes up I won’t be able to get out of here without a thorough explanation. He adjusts his morning wood before pushing his face into my pillow and drifting back to sleep. I grab my bag and rush out the door before the opportunity to sneak out undetected slips away.

By the time I pull up outside Stephen
Brooks’s office my hands are shaking. I reach into my glove compartment and grab my Chloe glasses to shield the anxiety I’m sure is filling my eyes. The office is exactly the way I remember it ten years ago when I came here before my escape. I was never supposed to return. I promised my dad I would never let them find me. Stephen greets me at the reception area with a genuine smile then leads me into his office.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, as he sits behind his desk.

“I don’t want to do this. I have to this.”

He shakes his head in obvious disapproval. “Alright,” he pulls a briefcase out of a locked drawer and places it on the desk then he pulls out a document and places it on top of the briefcase. “Your father wouldn’t like this.”

“I know.” I pick up the case and the documents, trying to ignore his worried gaze. “Thank you, Stephen.” He nods at me as I walk out the door and back to my car. I make the trip back to Palm Beach in half the time with my foot jammed on the gas. The motel Elaina told me to meet her at is small and cheap. Without my father’s money to support her habit and high social standing, it seems she’s fallen from grace. The Elaina I grew up with wouldn’t even notice a place like this.

I sit in my car for a few minutes staring at the room s
he told me she was staying in. The parking lot is mostly deserted and there isn’t a sign of anyone else around. After taking a few deep breaths I grab the case and step out the car. I climb the small staircase slowly, hesitating before knocking on the grayish-white door.

The door swings open immediately to reveal a flawless Elaina. You would never be able to tell she was staying in a rickety motel off the strip. She looks more like she’s stepping out of the Ritz Carlton with her designer wrap dress and pumps that make me jealous of her mile long legs.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” She cocks a perfectly arched eyebrow at me, so I brush pass her and step into the stale-smelling room. Despite all the lights being on, the room is dark and dreary. “Did you bring the money?”

I spin towards her voice. H
er eyes are on the case in my hand and she’s anxious as hell to get her hands on it. I place my oversized purse down on the bed, pull out the document, and hand it to her wordlessly.

“What is this?”
she questions, her eyes quickly skimming the paper.

“It a legally binding document that says you
are releasing all copies of that video over to me. If any such video should surface after you receive this money, I will sue you for every penny you make off of it and what I paid you. When I’m done with you won’t even be able to afford this motel room.”

She smiles. That empty smile I memorized years ago. “Seems you have your father’s business sense.” She grabs a pen from the nightstand and scribbles her signature on the document. That was easy, I was sure she’d fight me about signing t
hat document. She reaches into her bag and throws a couple DVDs and a flash drive on the bed.

I hand her the case, quickly gather the items on the bed
, and the document before placing them into my purse. I need to get out of this place before this creepy feeling I have causes me to have a panic attack. When I turn around Elaina is closing the case with a huge smile on her face. This one is not empty. This smile is joyful, maybe even euphoric.

“You know
something,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “I searched for you. I used most of the measly settlement I got in the divorce paying detectives. I gave that man the best years of my life and he left me with a few thousand dollars and dropped millions into your lap.” She throws her head back and lets out a vile laugh that causes chills to run up my spine.

“Dad
dy’s little princess, his little beautiful angel gets everything, and I get the table scraps. Ten years I’ve waited for this day and now that it’s here, I almost feel bad for you.”

A door behind me opens, a nause
ous feeling takes over, and I hunch over clutching my stomach in panic. I can’t turn around because then it will be too real, he’ll be real.

“Please Elaina, you’re my mother.” I plead with her.

“Fuck being your mother. Damon took care of me all these years while you ran around with
my money
. The only payment he wants for all that is you. I can never understand why, but he can have you.” She opens the door and I step forward in an effort to make a break out of the room, but a large hand latches on to my arm and pulls me back, as I watch Elaina walk out the room and pull the door shut.

I clench my eyes shut as he spins me to face him. “Look at me
.” His voice is eerily calm, but I know if I defy him I will pay. I open them. The fear runs deep into my soul when I look into those eyes. My mind, body, and soul remember his face. The beautiful traitor who posed as a friend in order to destroy me.

He’s a man now, bigger and more intimidating
than he was before. He smirks at me running a finger down my cheek. I flinch from the contact but try to stay frozen. Any sign of rejection from me will only anger him. His hand slides behind my head and his hold tightens on the back of my neck. His face inches closer to mine, and I fight the urge to shut my eyes. His smell is familiar, my stomach revolts from the aroma. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat, and take shallow breaths to calm my rapidly pumping heart.

“I missed you sweetheart
.” His lips are so close to mine the words vibrate against my lips. “Did you miss me?”

Oh god, I’m not going to survive this. I know immediately that
even if I do survive this, if he takes me then leaves me alive, whatever is left of my soul will die here in this room. I nod my head to his question and my nose brushes against his.

One second I’m looking into dark eyes, the next, pain explodes in my head as his fist connects with my face. I tumble to the floor, clutching my busted lip
, and trying to pull myself up. The last time Damon had me down on the ground he broke my ribs. I know I need to get up quickly, but before I can get up, he yanks me up from the floor by my shirt. He’s breathing heavily, nostrils flaring with a demented look in his eyes.

“You fucking liar. You think I didn’t see you in that magazine with that man. Displaying yourself like the little slut you are.” He let
s go of my shirt and I stumble a few steps until my back hits the wall. He’s pacing in front of me, pulling at his hair. When he finally stops, I see tears streaming down his face, and that scares the shit out of me. He reaches out and touches my bruised face.

“Why do you always make me hurt you
?” He cups my face and kisses the bruise softly. I begin to tremble because my body is in panic mode. He’s deranged and that’s a lot more dangerous than angry. “Can’t you see that I just want to love you?” He presses his lips against mine and I gasp from the pain. He slips his tongue in and I can’t hold it back anymore, I throw up all over him. He steps back looking at the mess I made on him, reaches down and pulls off the soaked shirt. I slide down the wall, covering my face, and do something I haven’t done since I was a little girl.

I pray.

God, I’ve never asked you for a favor ever, and I know I don’t deserve it, but please can you spare me this time?

“Do I make you sick?”
His voice is hushed. “As sick as you make me when I have to think about you fucking that man?”

I don’t look at him, but I feel his hand grip my hair and he dr
ags me behind him. Tears spring to my eyes from the painful sting. When we get to the bed he pulls me up in front of him. “Take it off.”

I’ve heard those three words so many times, my mind is almost programmed to obey his command. Ten years ago I would have stripped and laid my soul bare for him to torture, but I’m not that Isabella anymore. Whatever he takes from me now will be a fight to the death. He stares at me and nods his head in faux acceptance of me not doing his bidding.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” I say glaring at him.

“Why would I kill you?”
He tangles his hand in my hair and pulls my head at an angle towards him. “I need you alive. I want to hear you screaming my name when I fuck you. Do you remember how good it was, how I trained that sexy body of yours to come for me?”

I'm going to be sick again. I try to concentrate on the pain instead. If I concentrate on the pain in my face and head I can ignore the need to vomit. He pushes me back
onto the bed but I bounce back up, if he gets me on my back on that bed I’ll have lost.

I’m tired of feeling helpless.

Hopeless.

I throw my arm out and my fist lands on his lip. H
is head turns a small fraction from the impact, but then he smiles, and licks the blood that pebbles beside his lip. He reaches out and tears my shirt open, and I counter by kicking him in the shin. When I try to kick him again, his big body slams into mine as he picks me up by the waist, and throws me on the bed. He’s on top of me before I can scramble off, looking down at me victoriously before leaning down to whisper into my ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you hard. I know you like it that way.”

He has won and we both know it.

He’s going to finish me.

Tears of acceptance pour down my face into my ears and hair. Thoughts of Liam cross my mind and I wonder how he’s going to handle
this loss so soon after the loss of his mother. Damon pulls on my pants and I reach out and begin to hit him anywhere I can reach until he gets frustrated, and pins my hands against the mattress. My body convulses and squirms in an attempt to throw him off. He’s smacks me viciously across the face, but I don’t care, I continue to struggle. If I don’t succeed in stopping him, maybe I can get him angry enough to kill me first.

A fist connects with my side, then another, and I swear I hear my ribs snap. The pain causes my attack to
halt as I begin coughing and holding on to my side. I hear the clink of his belt and turn my face. I can’t watch. My body is limp with pain and tears clog my throat to the point of suffocation. As I begin to close my eyes, hoping my mind will shut down if I can't see what he’s doing, my eyes fall on my purse at the edge of the bed. Maybe miracles do exist. I reach out and slip my hand into the open bag. One glance at Damon, and I realize he’s too busy working his underwear down his hips to notice my hand. He looks at me with a wicked smile as his hand strokes himself.

I shoot up to a sitting position, my hand driving
forward with unexpected force. The cool metal in my hand pierces his neck and his eyes widen in shock. The reality of what I just did hits me instantly and I pull the knife back out in some sort of attempt to take back what I did, but it only makes it worse.

Blood
.

So much blood.

It spews over me as his heavy body collapses on top of me. My piercing scream echoes throughout the room. I push against his heavy chest frantically. His final breaths are gasped into my ear as warm liquid drips onto my face. I push and shove at his chest until I manage to get him partially off of my body, then I squirm from under him, and bound to the furthest corner of the room.

Everything blurs and I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m panicking and I can’t stop it with even breaths this time. The pain from my ribs radiates to my stomach in a series of sharp piercing pangs. I crouch in the corner and cover my face with my hands. The image of my pocket knife in his neck won’t go away even with my eyes shut. It feels like my heart is being squeezed
and I wonder if this isn’t a heart attack, this extreme pain in my heart. Darkness surrounds me and I welcome it as a savior from the overwhelming pain.