Brutally Beautiful (19 page)

“I don’t know if I’ll be capable of love, ever.  Or trust.  I’m panicking from hearing all the noise outside in the bar and I’m counting heads and windows.  In my head, I’m going through all the different scenarios of someone coming in with a gun and how I would get to her and how I could save her, how I’d save everyone.”

“That’s what you do?  You count heads and windows and constantly plan escapes?  Lainey kind of talked to me the other day about PTSD and coping mechanisms, but I didn’t believe her fully.  You never once let me help you.  You never once let me in.  I have no idea what you went through unless I read about it in the bloody paper.”

“You remember the sort of day it was, don’t you?” I whispered.

Dylan slumped against the wall heavily and nodded.

I ran my hand down my face and gave a dark chuckle.  “It was one of those beautiful days, not average for Britain, strange it wasn’t rainy.  I was with Thomas before first hour in our little hiding spot, getting in our last drags off our Marlboros before we headed inside.  Lizbeth had just gone in. She was always afraid of being late.  She gave me a snog.  I had no idea that it would be the last time I would ever kiss her.”

My legs gave out and I just dropped down heavily to the floor.  Dylan followed along and leaned his back up against his desk.  I thoughtlessly played with the cuff of my jeans.  “I had no idea that my world was going to shatter so completely when I stepped into that classroom.  So many people asked me if there were any warning signs before it happened, any clue in the few minutes before when we were sneaking our smokes, but there were none, not then.  The fucking warning signs had come all before throughout all the years and months I’d known him.  I knew Thomas better than anyone did.  I knew him better than those analysts who tried to profile him did, I knew him better than his parents, and teachers.  I knew when I stepped foot in there what he was capable of.  I just didn’t choose to believe it.”

Dylan thudded his head against the desk, eyes rising to the ceiling, “I can remember the gunshots. We thought someone lit fireworks off in the main hall.  But they had us evacuating immediately after.  I knew it was bad.  I knew it was bad the minute all the classrooms were emptied but yours.  And we saw the bullet holes as they blasted through the window.”

I tried to even out my breathing, I didn’t need a full on panic attack right there in front of Dylan.  “Not even two minutes after he walked in, he was standing in front of the class aiming, his black duffel bag full of guns at his feet.  I was the first one, did you know that?”

Dylan’s face went ash.

“Over everyone’s screams, he eloquently explained why he chose to fire on me first, two nonfatal shots.  He said, and I’m quoting here, ‘I need you to be able to watch it to the very end, Kade.  You stay until the end, watch me kill everyone, then you get to die.’”

Shaking the visions from my head, I stood up.  My palms were sweating and my head felt light.  I needed to see Lainey.  I needed to see her calm face. I lumbered to the door and stopped shy of the threshold, clamping my hands on the top of the doorframe.  “Back then, my biggest problem was trying to talk Lizbeth into showing me her tits.  It all changed when my best friend aimed that barrel of the gun at me, and pulled the trigger without blinking.  He had a goddamn smile on his face, Dylan. I relive that scene everyday.  I relive the entire scene of him picking off all of my friends one by one, shooting kids hiding under desks, hiding behind other dead kids, and…
oh God
, Mrs. Turner.  He executed them all; the whole time laughing and bloody singing a sick twisted song, then came back to me.    But, when I look at Lainey, for a minute, I can think of something else.”

Leaving my brother to mull over my past on the floor of his office, I made my way into the bar to look for my obsession.  Lainey was standing behind the bar pouring a beer. Bree said something to her and she laughed, smiled, eyes dancing.  My God, she was pretty already, but when she smiled like that, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Chapter 9

Fran graciously sat me down and broke the delicate news to me that our relationship was not proceeding at the speed he liked, and that we would be better suited as friends. 
Valiantly
(you can’t see me, but I’m laughing here) he expressed his
extreme
guilt for going home with Natalie the night I left to have coffee with Kade.  He believed she was the speed–relationship wise-he needed. 
Eh.  Gotta give him props for honesty, right
?  I was still wondering where in the world he got off thinking we were in a relationship when I blatantly told him I was NOT in one of
those
WITH HIM.  Two make-out sessions does not a relationship make, this wasn’t high school.

Natalie was completely nervous and stressed about how I might take the news.  I hugged her and whispered a relieved thank you in her ear.  I didn’t think she understood, but she would when she orders a beer in front of him, or wants a coffee, or tries to spit gum out of the window of his moving smart car, or God forbid, forgets to recycle a can of soda.  Mentally, I was high-fiving her with my vagina.

It had been five days since I went for coffee with Kade.  Five days since I’d seen him, and five days since he followed me.  Five days since I opened my big mouth to get him to talk to me.  Five days of uncontrollable itchiness to jump in my car and hightail it out of here to find another hiding spot. 

That night, there was a huge last minute bachelor party at the bar, which I wished I had known about in advance.  Say, like when I was dressing for work, so I could have opted out of wearing the short denim skirt I had on.  I wasn’t comfortable with all the men that night, I was just afraid of unwanted touches and looks that I wasn’t emotionally stable to deal with.  Worse than the strangers was Fran, who was sitting in the corner, pounding back an insane amount of red wine, two whole bottles to be exact, and bothering the hell out of me about how ‘
soft the legs of my skin look
.’  No, I didn’t just say that backwards, it was an exact quote.

When Kade walked in from the back hallway, I was stunned.  His eyes blinded me.  His stare made my knees go weak.  He looked angry, enraged, and murderous.  There was a new bandage around his wrist, making me wonder what he did to himself.  I knew I would never be able to save him, but it was ingrained in me to save, and I wanted to be able to so badly. 

From the corner of the room, his eyes claimed me, all of me-my eyes, my neck, my legs…making me
feel like he was touching my skin
… The heat that spread over every inch of where his eyes looked had me dizzy, like an acute case of vertigo, and I wanted to spin in it, spiral out of control and drown in it.  Sitting on a bar stool, I let my skirt ride a bit further up my legs to watch his eyes widen and his breath quicken. I was swept up in a frenzy.  I wanted to make him look at me; I needed him to.

“I really need to talk to you,” Fran slurred behind me, practically pinning me to the edge of the bar.

“Maybe later, Fran.  I need to use the restroom,” I lied, squeezing my way around him and rushing into the back hallway.  Glancing back over my shoulder, I smiled at Kade, hoping he’d find his way to talk to me.

Locking myself in the stall, I heard the bathroom door open and footsteps squeak in.  I opened the stall door thinking that Kade would be there, his face, smirking at me, but it wasn’t.  The muscles in my shoulders tightened when I stepped out to see Francis.  Drunk on either the wine he was guzzling, or some sort of nontoxic environmentally safe fumes of maybe, I don’t know, bacon grease or something.  My thoughts were quick and precise. He had me cornered by the sheer luck of me thinking about another man, and I was going to need to fight him.  “I think you’re in the wrong bathroom,” I said.  He just laughed condescendingly, as if I should know better. 

“I think I made a terrible mistake about us,” he slurred, stepping forward.  I sidestepped him, squeezing my body around him without ever touching him.  When I was the one closer to the door, my shoulders slumped a bit with relief.  “Please hear me out,” he mumbled.

Before I could get out an answer, Fran’s body catapulted onto me. His mouth was on mine, bitter wine breath, strong body order and I swear I smelled one of those old-fashioned evergreen car fresheners.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had one in his pocket.  Revulsion quaked in my belly and I shoved him off me quickly.  “Fran, don’t make me have to kick your…”

With a loud thud, the bathroom door flew open and smashed up against the wall, splintering one of the white tiles with a web of cracks.  Natalie stomped into the bathroom, hands on hips and her usually cheerful expression twisted into rage.

“What the fuck is this?”  She screeched, looking from me to Fran, eyes narrowing.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  My kids asked to call you daddy!”
In five days, she let her kids meet him and want to call him DADDY?
 

Fran’s hands dropped from my arms, his pleas were whines and lies, and it made me sick to listen.  I couldn’t look at the hurt in Natalie’s face. I couldn’t take the heartbreak, because it was like looking in a mirror and I knew just how she felt.

I ran out of the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes for Natalie for having feelings for a jerk like Fran.  Running down the hall, I slammed head first into a solid chest, and looked up into the stormiest eyes I’d ever seen.  With my stomach twisted into knots, I swallowed thickly and sucked in a sharp breath. 
Kade
.

“Lainey, what’s wrong?” he asked, eyes narrowing.  There was tightness in his jaw, the muscles flexed and clenched.  His hands instantly cupped my face, big, thick, warm hands.  I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted his lips on mine, because I wanted to matter and make a difference to someone, and I wanted to stop this lethal game of hide and seek I was playing. I just wanted to be Samantha Matthews again.  Hell, I wanted to tell Kade that I
was
just like him.  

Natalie stormed out of the bathroom, and pushed between Kade and me.  “Don’t worry, hon.  I know that was all him.  I hate him so much right now, because my kids were crazy about him.  What am I going to tell them now?”  She sighed heavily, and looked up at Kade as if she just realized he was standing there. “But,” she purred like a cat, “Revenge is sweet.” She winked and grabbed Kade by the hand and shoved him into Dylan’s office.  “Take out that cock, Kade, I want to dance on it,” I heard her say as the door slammed shut.

Instantly, I was sick.  Desperation ripped through me, and I wanted to bang on the door and throw her off him.  Though, what right did I have to do that?  Because he stared at me for a few weeks?  Because he took me for a coffee when he saw Fran treating me like a child?  I was nothing to him; I was just a goddamn waitress in a God forsaken strip bar in the middle of nowhere.  And what was he to me?  Nothing but my boss’s brother who lived a tragically lonely life.  There was nothing between us but a simple attraction.  Nothing to put hope in.

Nothing.

Yanking off my apron and crumpling it up in my hands, I walked into the bar and threw it under the counter.  Then I walked out the door and right home to the shitty little trailer I lived in.  Heading straight for the bathroom, I rummaged through my bag, grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills, and swallowed two dry.

Tossing myself fully clothed on my bed, I grabbed my iPod and jammed my earbuds in my ears.  Pressing play, I was instantly surrounded by the haunting voice of Amy Lee and the heavy rhythms of
Bring Me To Life
by Evanescence, and waited until the magic of my pills worked.  The night chilled my bones as small drafts of the cold winter winds drifted through that old tin trailer.  I wrapped myself in a soft fleece blanket to keep myself warm and pretended I was lying in Kade Grayson’s arms.  Sleep lumbered slowly over my body as I thought how preposterous of a fantasy it was. I had enough scars on my body from the last man that held me in his arms, raised stains that read like Braille across my flesh, so I shouldn’t desire another violent one.  However, he wasn’t the same man as the last; he was a far better one, were the last thoughts before sleep took hold of my mind.  I didn’t wake up until the next morning.

Armed with an entire pot of coffee, I walked through the dense evergreens that crowded this little part of the world, until I reached the bar.  An early morning slideshow of images flashed through my imagination of the carnage and chaotic state of mess the bar must be in, and I cringed, hoping there were latex gloves I could use to clean.  Darker images clawed at the back of my brain, juxtaposing themselves against the chaos, thoughts I didn’t want to be thinking, despite the clarity of them.  Twisted white sheets, guttural moans and whimpers of two lovers; I didn’t want to visualize them, but visions of Kade and Natalie wrapped around each other were screaming in my mind.

Dylan already had the front door unlocked, and was standing in the middle of the barroom holding a mop in one hand, a bucket in the other, wearing a sheepish smile across his lips.  “Morning, love.  Where did you get off to last night?”