Bent not Broken (302 page)

I gasp at exactly how accurate his comment is given my earlier line of thought. My mouth falls open as I think of a way to protest but then I snap it shut.
She doth protest too much and all that!
“Whatever,” I say eloquently.

After squirting them with lemon juice and Tabasco, we get quiet as we devour the oysters.

Bradford is the first to break the comfortable silence. “You have to be getting tired by now? I know those three little boys keep you on your toes.”

“Do they ever. And yes, I’m starting to become quite tired. I’ve had a lovely night, Bradford, really. Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure, Celeste. Thank you for the wonderful company. Would you mind if I followed you to your house? You know, to make sure you get home safely and all?”

“Oh, sure. That’d be fine, but I don’t live far from here at all. Just off Carrollton.”

“I know, but I’d feel much more chivalrous.” He gives me that dimpled grin again. Boy, I bet that grin has gotten him his way a lot over the years.

“All right then. Ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready,” he replies, and I tremble. I give him a tilted smile and let him help me from the loveseat.

****

AS I PULL into my driveway and get out of my car, I give an idling Bradford a wave. I’m so grateful that he respects my boundaries. I’m just not ready to take things any further than our few innocent touches and glances and foot massages. Not until I’ve firmly pushed Adrian from my mind.

I slip my shoes off and begin to make my way up my porch steps. I’m nearing the top when I hear Adrian’s voice cut through the somewhat still night. “Have fun?”

My hand flies to my throat as I gasp. “Adrian, you frightened me. What are you doing out here?” His elbows are planted on his knees and his head rests on his fists as he sits on my porch swing not moving.

“Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the night. It feels good out here. Why don’t you come sit with me for a minute?”

“Umm…”

His voice turns husky. “I promise I’ll behave myself.”
Yeah, sounds like it,
I think. Of course, that’s the crux of the problem. I don’t want him to behave.

“Uh, all right. Let me go change.” I know my limits. There is no way I could sit next to him in this dress.

“Hurry back.”

Eager to get back to Adrian, I dash into my house and into my bedroom. I’m yanking my belt off as I traipse through the living room. As my door is closing behind me, my dress is over my head and off. I grab my favorite Loyola hoodie, a pair of panties, and yoga pants from my bureau. I quickly put them all on and am heading back out when exactly what I am doing and thinking hits me.
Shit!

I turn back into my bathroom and give myself a long hard stare. “You can’t have him,” I tell my reflection. Closing my eyes and shaking my head at my own stupidity, I reach out and grab my contact solution, case, and glasses. After popping my contacts out and putting my glasses on, I throw my hair up in a bun. Smirking at myself in the mirror, I think, I’ve made myself less attractive. I’ll just go and enjoy his company. Rushing back to my bureau, I grab my favorite fuzzy, warm socks—definite defense mechanisms.

Making my way out to the porch, I catch Adrian leaning over the railing. His arms are splayed wide and his head is hanging down slightly. As I gently close the door, he turns toward me, leans against the railing, and folds his arms across his chest. I’m mesmerized by his every action. He gives me a little grin as he takes in my appearance. His eyes run up to my bun and down my body to my socks.

“Cute socks,” he says with a laugh.

“Cute and warm. It’s starting to get a little breezy out here.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I move over to the swing—my absolute favorite place to sit in the world. I could sit here and look over my neighborhood all day long. The large, sprawling oaks, the wrought iron, and the wisteria, when it blooms, are all utterly magnificent. Getting lost in all that for hours is instant, effective therapy.

“So you never answered my question. Have fun?”

“I did. Thank you. Only a few rock stars hit on me,” I joke.

His jaw ticks a little as he stares at me.

“I’m kidding, Adrian.” Well, not really, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Do you see things getting serious with Bradford?” he asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Maybe. He’s a nice guy.”

“That’s what Louis said, and I trust Louis.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” I snap.

“That’s not what I meant. I just meant I’m glad that someone I trust knows him. I’m sorry,” he murmurs. He runs both his hands over his face and up into his hair.

I decide to change the subject. “Your hair’s getting long.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he says as he grabs at it a little. “I can’t seem to keep it short since I got out.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The Corps? Yeah, I do and I don’t. I miss my unit, the camaraderie. I don’t miss the shitholes I had to go to. And I damn sure don’t miss fighting for a cause I don’t believe in.”

“You don’t believe in our latest mission?”

“Nope. When I went to Afghanistan, I believed whole-heartedly in taking down terrorists. When I went to Iraq that first tour, same thing. We needed to be there based on the intel. This latest thing is straight up politics. And you know how I hate politics.”

I do know that. We’d talked long and hard about his return to the family. He didn’t want to get involved in all they were involved in, but he did want his family back. He wanted his future children to know their cousins. Heck,
he
wanted to know his cousins. “It is a mess. A mess I’m not sure we’ll ever get out of. I feel like it will plague our children long after we’re gone.”

“I do too, Celeste. It’s even worse over there now than when I was there.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, well, I still have friends there. Hearing it firsthand—it’s some scary shit. The shit nightmares are made out of, except those guys have to live it.”

“I’m glad you’re not there,” I whisper.

He finally moves to sit down beside me and grimaces a little. “Me too, mostly. I do wish that I could be there for my guys, though.”

His sincerity overwhelms me, and my eyes tear up a little. “Adrian—”

The sudden warmth on my leg cuts me off from speaking as he has placed his hand on my knee and is rubbing up and down a little. I glance down at his hand and let it rub back and forth for a moment before placing my own hand over his. I curl my hand around his and squeeze, staring at our intertwined hands. He squeezes my hand and releases it.

“Thanks for listening, Celeste. I’ve gotta get going, though. And the boys will have you up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that they will,” I say with a laugh. It must be nearly two a.m.

“See, this is what I don’t want to lose. Your friendship means the world to me. I want that back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Good. I’m going to try really hard not to attack you again, OK?”

I hold up my right hand and vow, “And I will endeavor not to attack you and/or instigate attacks by you.” A laugh bubbles out of me. This is kind of ridiculous. Anyone else would just give in and go for it. Why do things have to be so complicated?

“Night, Celeste.”

“Night, Adrian.” I grin up at him as he starts to leave.

“Will you go in and lock up before I go?”

“Yes, Adrian.”

“
Now
she cooperates.”

“Don’t push it, sir.”

His chuckle follows me into the house as I close and lock the door behind me. I lean back on the door for a minute and let myself return to my laundry room. My eyes drift closed for a few seconds as I fantasize about what almost happened, what I wanted so badly to happen. I have so many “if only’s” running through my head, but that’s not going to do me any good. So I make a deal with myself. When I move away from this door, I’ll no longer fantasize about Adrian. That little deal makes me stay here longer than I’d intended.

Marveling over how we’d found a new way to deal with our slip-ups, I think this one works best—just pretending—pretending like it hadn’t happened, like we weren’t affected. Groveling and fighting about it just plain…sucked.

I reach up to my bun, release my hair, and comb my fingers through it. Straightening from the door, I take a step to go to fetch a glass of water before heading off to bed. A knock on my door has me spinning back and throwing it back open wide.

“Did you—” My words and smile die on my face as I look into William’s obviously drunken one. “William, what are you doing here?” I say in my sternest voice. I move to go out on the porch but I’m not fast enough. He’s in my house and stumbling to my couch before I can protest.

“Celeste, you don’t look happy to see me? Why? I’m not Adrian? You looked plenty happy to see him,” he slurs just about every word.

I ignore all of that. “William, why are you here?” I demand.

“I don’t know, Celeste. I just know I had to see you. I’ve screwed up. I’ve screwed up again.”

“What do you mean? What did you do?” Flashbacks of a drunken William bombard my memories as if they happened only yesterday. Blitzed out of his mind, he used to come crying to Tripp about every little thing there for a while until I’d told Tripp exactly why his presence was not welcomed around here.

He’s moved over to plop himself on my couch, so I move closer so that he doesn’t raise his voice and wake up the boys.

“I think it’s pretty obvious, Celeste. I fucked up because you’re the one for me, and I let Adrian get to you first.”

I shake my head at him and sit on the arm of the couch. “William, nothing is going on with me and Adrian. We’re friends and that’s all. But nothing’s going to happen between you and me either. You can understand that, right?”

“I understand that Adrian,” he sneers the name at me, “will never settle for friendship. You don’t know what kind of trouble you’re inviting there. He’s after everything this family holds dear. He wants it all. That’s why he’s back and he’s set his sights on you. He may display that sensitive musician side to you, but he’s got one hell of a mean streak and is definitely the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He has never committed to any woman before. And you’re deluding yourself if you think he will start with you, sweet Celeste.”

Warring with my temper, I maintain control over myself. This piece of shit sure has a lot of nerve to come into my house and criticize a man who has been nothing but wonderful to my kids and me. But he’s drunk and already an unreasonable person, so I know better than to try to reason with him or argue those points. I have to knock my baser senses to the ground. It kills me not to defend Adrian and not to mention that even though William may be willing to commit, he still wasn’t willing to be faithful. Me arguing any of these points will result in nothing but forcing me to endure his company longer.

“Now see, there’s where you are wrong because I desire nothing more than Adrian’s friendship and he feels the same. That’s all.” I hesitate and let out a long sigh. “I think it would be best if you left now, William. The children are asleep and it’s getting really late.”

I can tell I’ve said the wrong thing as his eyes darken and his mouth curls up with hatred. He’s practically in my face as he bites out, “You can try to sell that shit somewhere else, Celeste. I saw you two on the porch. That’s not friendship,”

I’m not doing this.
I no longer have any allegiance to William and I’m not putting up with his crap anymore. “OK. That’s enough. Let me—”

Before I can utter another word, William has pulled me down on the couch and has one of my arms pinned beneath his leg. I move to slap him off me with my other hand, but he grabs that hand and jerks it on to his own crotch and suddenly I’m twelve years old again. And I freeze.
No, no! Not again!

“If I remember correctly, you like it rough, Celeste,” he coos as he moves his hand so that I’m massaging him. He begins rocking himself into me. I hear a whimper escape me, and I spiral. My mind spins out of control, but I clutch at what words will get him off of me. I come up completely empty. I literally cannot think beyond how much I loathe him and loathe the fact that he stole my innocence at such a young age. “Oh my God, Celeste. Do you feel how hard I am for you? How bad I want you? All I have to do is think of you and I’m ready for you. This won’t take long, baby. Your hand feels so good. Oh yeah…”

His head falls forward to rest on my forehead, and I’m reminded of the sweet kiss that Bradford placed there as our date wound to an end. I feel William under my hand and I’m reminded of Adrian gently caressing my hand on my porch swing as he shared his thoughts on war and comrades. And suddenly I’m no longer frozen. I’m enraged. I’m livid and I want this pervert off of me. I can feel his movement getting more erratic and more furious as if he’s starting to find release and when I feel him shudder I know I have to act.

Tilting my head back, I lock my eyes with William’s depraved ones and bring a smile to my eyes. He responds immediately. “Yeah, baby. Oh yeah. You like that don’t you. Help me out now, and I’ll return the favor in just a minute. I’m so close.”

I let my eyes fall to his lips and feel my stomach revolt at what I’m about to do. “Kiss me, William,” I mutter hazily, lick my lips, and meet his gaze again.

“Fuck yeah…” he murmurs as he slams his lips on mine. The second they touch mine I open my mouth and bite hard. A metallic taste floods my mouth immediately. “Fuuuck,” he sputters. His hand loosens a little but mine tightens to a vice. I squeeze as hard as I can and bite even harder as I do.
Oh yeah is right, baby!
I’m really feeling this now. This bastard deserves to pay. Pay for what he’s doing now and pay what he did to that twelve-year-old girl.

William whimpers and releases me enough so that I can spring from the couch. As I try to get around him, I misjudge my proximity to the coffee table and attempt to jump over it but slam and drag my shin along on the coffee table trying to get away. Pain shoots through my entire leg, but I stifle my yelp as I certainly don’t want my boys to wake to this mess.