Beautiful Distraction (39 page)

I woke up to an empty bed and a warm yet slightly sore
sensation in my lower body. My arm stretched out to the imprint on Jett’s
pillow and touched the place where he had been sleeping a few hours ago. We had
a written understanding, which included no clause on romance and intimacy.
Hence, falling asleep in Jett’s arms had been strange, if not to say scary,
because deep down I knew this wasn’t part of the deal. In the end, when his
breathing had flattened and his muscles had become limp, I just rolled with it,
thinking one night wouldn’t hurt.

I had been wrong.

Bad move, Stewart.

Because, as I lay on my back, staring at my reflection in
the oversized mirror above my head, I could see something in my eyes that
hadn’t been there before.

I was beginning to like him—everything about him. His
body, his touch, his smile, his way of talking, and him as a person. Usually,
when that happened in the past, I ran as fast as I could, leaving my feelings
and the person behind. What I saw in my eyes was an unwillingness to run. For
some reason I wanted to stay and see where it might take me.

“It’s not going to take you anywhere because nothing’s
happening,” I mumbled to myself, jumping out of bed annoyed. I had never fallen
for anyone, and I wouldn’t let it happen now. I had liked Sean, but I wasn’t in
love with him. I never was with anyone. Sure Jett was handsome, witty, and
amazing in bed, but he was also the kind of guy you had fun with, not the one
you brought home to meet the parents. When I signed the contract I knew what I
was getting myself into.

I headed for my room to take a quick shower, brush my teeth,
put on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt, and then joined him downstairs in the
kitchen. He was leaning against the open balcony door, holding a cup of
steaming coffee, his back turned to me. A warm morning breeze wafted in,
carrying the sylvan scent of damp wood and blossoming flowers. He had slipped
into a pair of blue jeans, but his back was naked—all flexed muscles
under flawless, bronze skin.
For a split second I just
stood there watching him—mesmerized. I wondered how he would behave after
our first night together. Would he bolt? Would he keep his distance? Pretend
like nothing happened?

Lost in thought he didn’t hear me, so I cleared my parched
throat and took a step forward, watching him intently as he turned. For a brief
second I caught a dark shadow in his eyes, and then it dissipated into
appreciation, as though he liked what he saw, and a lazy grin spread across his
beautiful lips.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” His dark hair framed his face in a
disheveled way that invited me to run my fingers through it. His voice was raw
and sexy, rich with lust, just like his electrifying eyes. He reached me in two
long strides and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his strong
chest. My breasts rubbed against him, and the air charged between us.

He handed me his mug of coffee and watched me take a sip. It
was black and unsweetened, just the way I preferred it. No one I knew had their
morning coffee this way.

“Thanks.” I handed the mug back to him. His arm remained
wrapped around me as he took a sip and then handed it back to me. It was such a
simple yet intimate gesture that it threw me off balance. I don’t know why my
mind made such a big deal out of it, but somehow, the way we shared this cup of
coffee made my heart beat just a little bit faster and turned my smile just a
little bit wider.

Post-coital bliss.

“I figured it’s the way you’d drink it,” Jett said.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the way I drink it.”

I peered up at the nonchalant expression on his face. Was he
suggesting that we had lots of things in common? I wanted to ask, but decided
against it. Did it really matter what he thought? In a few weeks, we’d be done
fucking this insane attraction and lust out of each other, and then we’d move
on as planned. No feelings whatsoever. Maybe we’d stay friends, and maybe not.
It didn’t matter either way. I intended to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

“Slept well?” Jett asked, changing the subject. I nodded.
‘Good’ was an understatement. Cradled in his arms, I hadn’t slept this well in
years. “You said something in your sleep.” His tone changed slightly and I
instantly froze.

“What?” I asked warily.

His eyes bore into me with such intensity I feared they
could penetrate years of steel and rake through my soul. “You said, ‘please
don’t hurt me’.”

A cold shudder of dread rushed down my spine and turned my
insides as cold as ice. The sudden urge to free myself from his embrace and get
the hell away from him overwhelmed me. And yet, years of calculated planning
kicked in, and I didn’t move an inch. Jett wasn’t the first man to come close
to the truth, and he wouldn’t be the last. No need to panic. I had enough
experience to deal with this.

I drew a long, silent breath to steady my nerves and
clutched at the coffee mug just a little bit tighter while hiding my hands from
his view, so he wouldn’t notice the white knuckles. “It was just a nightmare. I
don’t really remember it.”

But I did. Vivid and cold in all its glory.

“Do you have those often?” His scrutinizing gaze brushed
over my face, and his expression changed to brazen interest.

“Not really.”

I did, almost every night for the past twelve years. Twelve
years of blaming and self-hate, of wishing I could turn back the clock and do
things differently.

Jett hesitated. He didn’t believe a word I said.

Shit.

He was growing suspicious. I could see it in his intense
gaze and worried frown.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“What?” I laughed, and almost choked on the sudden tears
blurring my vision. “No, of course not. I told you it was just a dream. Just
leave it at that.”

His shoulders remained tense and he didn’t look away. He
didn’t even blink.

Double shit.

I knew my words came out all defensive and incriminating the
moment he nodded slowly, as though I had just confirmed his suspicions. The
vein in his right temple began to throb visibly beneath his skin. His jaw set
and his eyes blazed with anger. I knew that look. It was the same look the
police officer gave me the moment he told me they wished they could help, but
it was probably too late.

I hated that look and everything it implied. You couldn’t
change the past, no matter how hard you tried to shake at the gates of your
life. People kept saying time heals all wounds, but in my case the memories
buried deep within my soul never stopped torturing me with their vivid pictures
and hurtful words.

So all that remained was me pretending it never happened. I
had been trying that for years and almost succeeded, until a card popped up in
the mail a few weeks ago, and turned my carefully planned lie of a life upside
down.

“Who was it?” Jett asked softly, his voice barely able to
contain his anger.

I shook my head. “No one.”

“Who was it?” he repeated more demanding. His index finger
moved beneath my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. I searched his gaze,
expecting anger and pity. The anger was there, but there was no hint of pity.
Whatever he thought had happened to me, he also thought I was strong enough to
deal with it.

Under his scrutinizing gaze the memories began to rush
through my head, and a bolt of pain headed straight for my heart. I had pushed
them deep inside the pits of my soul for so long, entombing them beneath layers
of concrete and steel. But now the dam was about to erupt.

Shit and shit again.

“Please, don’t do this.” My whisper was so low I doubted
Jett had heard it. Breaking free from his embrace, I dashed out into the
backyard, eager to put as much physical and emotional distance between Jett and
me as possible. I slumped down on the bench and pulled my legs to my chest. The
warm breeze dried my moisture-stained cheeks, and I only now realized I was
crying. I wiped at the tears hastily, angry with myself that I talked in my
sleep, angry with Jett that he had to bring it up, angry with the world that
shit happened and no one ever tried to stop it.

As I forced air into my lungs I began to rock back and
forth, silently begging Jett to let it be, but I knew he wasn’t the type to
turn his back on a woman.

“Brooke?” His voice reached me a moment before he appeared
around the corner, his eyes burning with worry and determination.

“Leave me alone.” My demand was a feeble one; certainly not
firm enough to fool anyone with a morsel of common sense. I had never talked to
anyone. For some reason I wanted to talk to him; I just needed a few more
minutes to gather my strength and exhume a past that had almost destroyed me
once.

Jett’s arms moved around my back and he pressed my head
against his hard abdomen, rocking me like you’d rock a child. “It’s okay.” His
words were meant to soothe me, but they only managed to stir up another wave of
anger.

“It’s not. It never will be.”

“Tell me about it.” He sat down beside me and pulled me in
his arms. I cradled my head in the hollow of his shoulder and took deep breaths
to steady myself for what was to come. Maybe it was the silence of the countryside
and the serenity of the landscape. Maybe it was the fact that I was far away
from home and the demons of my past. Or maybe it was his determined presence
and the fortitude he seemed to exude from every pore. Whatever it was, it made
both the words and my tears flow.

Jenna and I weren’t just sisters, we were best friends and
as close as two people could get. Being two years older than me, she was my
idol and everything I wasn’t: skinny, blonde, and extremely popular. Everyone
preferred her, even my parents, which was okay by me because I adored her, too,
and looked up to her throughout my childhood. When she began dating Danny at
age fifteen, I was jealous of the attention she lavished upon him and naturally
disliked the guy, probably sensing deep down just how strange he was.

Danny was the kind of guy you didn’t want around your
squeaky clean daughter. He was older, and had just dropped out of school. Jenna
told me that he used to hang out with his friends a lot and only met up with
her when he felt like it; never when she needed him. The moment she began
dating him, I could almost see her changing before my eyes. My once vivacious
sister turned her back on most of her friends and transformed into someone
who’d spend hours locked up in her room for no apparent reason, or become
aggressive, smashing things. I often covered for her so she could meet Danny,
and when she returned home from him in the early morning hours, she’d look
beat-up and greasy, her eyes unnaturally big, and her hands trembling. I didn’t
know he gave her drugs. As a thirteen-year-old you were told of the dangers,
but you didn’t know the signs and couldn’t put two and two together.

I don’t know how long this went on. Maybe a few months, half
a year tops. By the time my parents saw the puncture marks on her skin and sent
her to a counselor, she was an emotional wreck and scared out of her mind.
Jenna was hospitalized and remained in treatment for another half year, and
when she returned I was naïve enough to believe everything would return to
normal.

“It didn’t,” Jett whispered, jerking me back to reality. I
shook my head and, realizing my nails were dug into the fragile skin of his
arm, I peeled my hand off him. Five tiny red marks remained imbued where I had
clutched at him for support. Jett showed no sign that it bothered him. He
didn’t even flinch as I brushed my fingers over the indentations, wondering
whether it was my nature to hurt people without even realizing.

“Shortly after she returned, he invited us both over to a
party. I didn’t want to go because my parents had forbidden any contact with
him, but Jenna wouldn’t listen. She told me he was the love of her life, and I
believed her.”

I hesitated as I let the memories of the few hours that
changed my family’s fate scroll before my eyes like a motion picture. My hands
were shaking. My unshed tears sat like a rock in my throat, almost choking me.
Sensing my distress, Jett’s grip on my hand tightened but he remained quiet, as
though he knew all I needed from him was to listen to the story I had never
shared with anyone.

“Jenna made me promise I wouldn’t tell
anyone.
Jenna didn’t come back
that night. I didn’t know what happened, so when she wasn’t home the next
morning I had to tell my parents, who called the police. We looked everywhere
for her,” I whispered, my tears finally finding release, spilling onto my
cheeks in angry rivulets that soaked the material of my shirt. “They found her
body in an apartment owned by one of Danny’s friends. It turned out she had
been plied with drugs, and her body had been sold to several men who gang-raped
her. We were told she died of internal bleeding. When Danny was charged with
murder, I was the one who had to testify against him. His friends kept threatening
they’d hurt my family, and I had no one to talk to.” I stopped, fighting for
breath. How could I tell Jett I didn’t have the courage to pull it through? My
sister’s murderer walked free because I feared for my and my parent’s life.

“I’m sorry,” Jett said softly.

I shook my head in response. No pity. I didn’t deserve it.
Not after the ordeal Jenna went through, and certainly not after the events her
death brought upon my family. My tears slipped between my lips. I could feel
the salty tang on my tongue, drying out the cave of my mouth. My heart beat so
fast it seemed as though it wanted to tear my ribcage apart. The choking
sensation around my neck tightened, and yet I wasn’t going to back off from the
panic attack gathering inside me.

Jett and I remained quiet for a few moments as I snuggled
into his strong arms for support. His handgrip was so tight I feared he’d stop
my blood circulation, but the sting was welcome. It kept my mind sane for a few
more moments so I could finish what I had started. For once I was ready to
share the pain and think about the consequences later.

“My mother never blamed me, but my father did,” I began
slowly. “He never got over Jenna’s death.”

“Are you still in touch?”

I hesitated as I considered my answer carefully. No, we weren’t
in touch. We couldn’t be. “He killed himself a few weeks later.”

“I’m sorry, Brooke,” Jett whispered into my hair. His arms
tightened around me, gathering me deeper into his arms, and I let myself fall
into his embrace as I tore down the last shreds of defense I had built around
myself in the last twelve years.