Bent not Broken (275 page)

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Authors: Lisa de Jong

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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I was afraid of those three little words—afraid because I felt the same. It was too soon. We’d just had a huge fight just a few moments before. Wasn’t it a bad sign to be arguing at such an early stage of a relationship? He was saying he loved me. We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks. Was it really love, or was it lust? Pretending not to hear him, I didn’t say anything. We just stayed in that position, listening to sound of our own breathing, until we drifted into a deep sleep.

****

The smell of fresh brewed coffee woke me. The side of the bed Marcus had occupied was now empty. Stretching my arms over my head, I squealed with delight. Glancing at the small alarm clock, I saw that it was seven in the morning. It was Saturday. I’m never up this early on a weekend. My eyes, feeling heavy, began to close again. They re-opened at the sound of a loud thumping noise coming from the kitchen. It sounded like he was cooking. Unwillingly I rolled off of the bed. Noticing his t-shirt thrown on the floor, I bent over, grabbed it, and tossed it over my head. Dragging my feet to the bathroom, I lifted the toilet lid and slumped on the seat. I could hear a few more thumps in the kitchen.
What
was he doing?

Finishing, I stood and flushed the toilet. Making my way to the sink, I jumped at the sight of myself in the mirror. My overly teased hair was a mess. My smoky eye makeup was all over the place, and the mascara left dry drip marks on cheeks from crying. He’d woken up to
this
! Grabbing a hair tie from the side drawer, I tossed my hair into a high bun, attempting to calm the medusa look.

Turning the facet on, I adjusted the hot and cold until the water turned a satisfying warm temperature. I grabbed the facial cleanser and squeezed the gel onto my hand, rubbing my palms together till it foamed. I scrubbed my face and rinsed, making sure I repeated it two more times till there were no more traces of smeared makeup. After brushing my teeth, I headed for the kitchen.

Marcus’ back was facing me as he hovered near the stove. Looking around, I noticed everything was clean: the shattered glass from last night was no longer on the counter top or the floor, and the rose petals that I placed on the floor were all gone.

The table was still set for two but with new plates. What time did he wake up? We went to sleep a little after three in the morning, and it was only seven. Does he ever sleep? He turned around when he felt my presence and smiled. “Good morning, babe.” Lightly jogging over to me with a spatula in hand, he gave me a quick peck on the lips and led me to sit at the table. “I made breakfast.”

“Thank you.” He opened the microwave and took out a mug. Running back to me, he handed me a cup of coffee, placing sugar, cream, and a spoon in front of me as well. I smiled and began preparing my cup. He kissed my forehead before heading back to the stove. Taking a few sips of coffee, I watched him as he hurried back and forth from the stove to the island, placing the bacon, eggs, and pancakes on separate plates. Walking over, he grabbed both plates from the table and made his way back to the island. He prepared our plates, piling them high.

When he placed the food before me, the smell of bacon made my stomach growl so loudly he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Hungry?” he asked, sitting in the chair across from me.

“I didn’t have lunch or dinner yesterday.” I whispered. His face fell with understanding.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Want some orange juice?” I shook my head, digging into my food.

He laughed. “I love that about you. You’re not embarrassed to eat in front of me. Most girls would pick at their food.”

He said the “love” word again. I froze for a second and then continued with my food.

“You’re a loud cook.” I grumbled through a mouth full of pancakes.

“Yeah, I’m always jumping around in the kitchen.”

“This is
so
good.” The satisfaction was so unbearable my eyes watered with delight.

“Whoa, slow down, we have plenty, and your stomach will get upset.” I looked up through my lashes. I didn’t realize I was gulping the food down. Breathing a half smile, I wiped the side of my lips with my hand and continued at a slower pace.

I was completely stuffed and couldn’t move, literally. I watched as he washed the dishes. Once he was finished, he walked over to me. “So what are the plans for today? What do you want to do?” Glancing over at the microwave’s clock, I saw that it was not even eight yet, and now that I was full, I just wanted to crawl back in bed for a long nap.

“Chillax,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“Chillax?” His eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”

“You know, chill and relax.” He pressed his lips together, forcing down his amusement, but he couldn’t help it.

“Is that a Philly thing?” He laughed.

“No, it’s a
me
thing, I think? Maybe it’s a Philly thing as well. I don’t know. Come on.” I stood up and grabbed his arm, making my way to the bedroom. I threw myself on the bed, and he followed beside me.

“So is this what you want to do all day?” he asked, brushing my hair with his fingers.

“You have a better idea?” I yawned, and he smiled at me.

“Yeah I do, but I can wait until you wake up. Get some sleep. Then you have to pack a bag. We’re going to my place for the rest of the weekend.” I smiled at him. This would be my first time at his place. It was exciting, but I needed my sleep first. Closing my eyes, I drifted into a sleep, beginning my dream of the one and only man I was falling for, and he lay next to me at that very moment.

It was pitch dark, and I couldn’t see where I was going. It was hard to know where I was. I stretched my hands in front me, trying to feel my way around. It was an open space. I kept walking, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. An orange flame caught my attention; it was flickering straight ahead. I followed it, picking up the pace, desperate to walk into the light. The closer I got, the bigger the flame got. I was outside now in front of a huge field. There was an old farmhouse burning. The flames were huge, covering every inch of the home. I was standing at least a yard away, but I could still feel the heat burning against my face. I began to walk back into the darkness. Maybe was safer in there, but I stopped when I heard a familiar voice yelling my name.

Straining my eyes to get a better glance in the distance, I noticed the person running out of the house covered in black ashes. “Michael!” I screamed. He fell to the ground. Running in his direction, I could feel the strength of the heat from the flames. Forcing myself through the pain, I continued to run until I reached him. My brother was barely recognizable: half his face was burned. Falling to my knees, I pulled him into my arms. Screaming for someone to help, I rocked him as he lay on my lap. “It’s okay, Michael. I’ll get help. Please don’t leave me. Please stay with me.” I sobbed, throwing my head into his chest. I couldn’t feel him breathing. I didn’t want him to leave me again, so my cries turned to screams.

At the sound of a low raspy cough, I sprung my head up. He was alive. He was mumbling something. “What is it, Michael?” I leaned my ear closer to his lips, so I could hear him.

“Promise,” he whispered.


Anything
, promise what?” I asked urgently.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from him?” I turned my head, and my eyes met his. We were only inches away from one another.

I was confused. “Away from whom?” I asked, shaking my head.

He slowly turned his head to the left, looking by the house. I watched as he gradually lifted his hand to point, but when my eyes followed its direction, I froze. Marcus was standing by the burning house, holding a container of gas in one hand and a box of matches in the other. His legs were spread apart, his shoulders were hunched over, and his eyes were dark. What scared me the most was the wicked smile that spread across his face.

“Mia. Mia, wake up!” I was awakened by the sound of Marcus’ voice and a slight nudge to my shoulder. My eyes popped open. My breathing matched my rapid heartbeat. My throat and mouth felt dry. “You were having a bad dream. You were screaming and crying.” He looked worried. Sitting up, I leaned against the headboard.
It was just a dream; it was just a dream
, I repeated over and over in my head until my breathing and chest calmed to a normal pace. “Are you okay?”

Looking at him, I wanted to cry. I wanted him to hold me to keep me safe, but he was the person I was afraid of at that moment. My nightmare was about him. I needed him to go away for a few moments. “Marcus, my throat is really dry. Can you grab me some water, please?” He nodded and jumped out of the bed, leaving the room.

Dropping my shoulders in relief, I buried my hands into my damp sweaty face. Oh God, I hadn’t had a dream about my brother in months. Finally I did, and he was warning me about Marcus. I took a few deep breaths to control my anxiety, and Marcus stumbled back to my side, handing me a glass. I snatched it out of his hand and chugged the water.
Ah, just what I needed.

After I was done, I placed the empty glass on the nightstand. Marcus was kneeling on the bed, cautiously watching at me. I wanted to cry or run. Instead I jumped over to him, wrapping my arms around him. He hugged me tightly, not questioning me about my dream, just holding me. How could my brother warn me to stay away when I felt the safest with Marcus? I knew my dream was more about my feelings of being afraid. So I said the one thing I didn’t want to: I told him how I felt. “
Marcus
?”

“Yeah, baby?” he said while kissing the top of my head.

“I love you, but I’m scared.” I whispered.

His shoulders relaxed while letting out a heavy sigh. “I love you more than you’ll know, and I’m scared too.” Closing my eyes, I tightened my arms around him. Here we go, it was either up or down from here. It would definitely be a rollercoaster, but I was willing to take the ride.

Chapter Fourteen

Marcus’ house was absolutely beautiful—everything you could dream of and more. It was probably as large as his beach home. The entrance was similar as well with a metal fence. He had to plug in a code before it opened. The driveway was surrounded by overgrown trees and an amazing landscape. The miniature mansion was a brick colonial home with white pillars and an oversized front porch. The interior was decorated and styled in a similar manner as his office with dark hardwood floors, light colored walls, antique oversized furniture, and modernized kitchen and bathrooms.

“Your house is beautiful.” I said twirling around in his bedroom, the final stop of the tour. “You live here alone?”

“No, my brother and his daughter live here with me.”

“Your brother has a daughter? You have a niece?” He’d never mentioned that before.

“Yes, she’s eight, going on twenty.” He laughed while grabbing my bag and unpacking my clothes into an empty drawer.

“Oh, is he married?”

“He was. His wife was killed in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh.” I whispered, feeling stupid for asking the question. His brother was raising a little girl all on his own. That had to be hard. But then I thought of my father raising us on his own, and he’d made it seem so easy. “What’s her name?”

“Brielle. She’s adorable. We call her Elle.
She
is very entertaining. You’ll meet her later on today.” I nodded. I’m not used to being around children. I wasn’t sure exactly how she’d react to me; I felt nervous. “Want to go for a swim?” he asked.

“Okay.” I smiled.

“Cannonball!” Marcus was in midair: knees pulled into his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. His round-shaped body slammed into the pool, and water splashed all over the patio and the lounge chair I was lying on.

“Marcus!” I laughed.

His head popped up from under the water, his hair was soaked and his smile was irresistible. “Come on!” The last hour he had been trying to persuade me to do a cannonball. I’d never done it before, and I was scared I’d slip and break a bone. I know I’m a sissy, but growing up, I never broke a bone in my body. I guess that was one of the benefits of living with two overprotective men. Standing up and walking towards the edge of the pool, I dipped my toe in the water. It was warm. Biting the side of my bottom lip, I wondered if I should just do it.

He watched as I took a few steps back. I tried to do it twice but stopped before actually jumping. I knew he was skeptical, thinking it wouldn’t happen just like the other two times. Taking a deep breath, I ran for it. When my feet hit the edge of the pool, I jumped, hugging my legs into my chest. My eyes were shut tight. I took a deep breath when I felt my behind hit the water. Then I was underwater. Opening my eyes, I smiled because I made it without getting hurt.

Untangling my legs, I waved my arms until I was above water. Marcus was swimming in my direction. I couldn’t take the smile off my face. It was so much fun! He reached me, grabbing my face with both his hands. “I told you! You did great!” I giggled. He was so happy that I did it that it made me laugh.

“It was fun! I want to do it again,” I said. He laughed and kissed me. Of course the cannonball could wait. I’d rather kiss my man.

Wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, I tightened my grip. I wanted to be closer to him. It’s like I was addicted; I could never have enough of him. He was everything I wanted and everything I needed. My dream had just been portraying my fears of allowing him in. Since I told him I loved him this morning, all of my fears went away. No relationship is perfect. I knew that. I also knew that we’d have issues that we’d have to resolve along the way, but it was all worth it. As long as I had him by my side, we’d be okay.

“Ahem.” We were interrupted by someone clearing his throat. Marcus and I both turned our heads to see his brother standing at the edge of the pool. He was holding the hand of a little girl who was wearing a bright pink swimsuit. She was absolutely adorable with long brown hair, green eyes, and an olive complexion.

“Uncle Marc?” she asked while slapping her free hand on her hip. Her smile showed me she was teasing.

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