Bent not Broken (364 page)

“That’s right,” I said with a little less confidence. I was pretty sure Mr. Blue Eyes had already sunk his fangs into me and was drawing me closer with that deliciously, sinister stare.

I admit, I was lonely. I was hurt and frustrated…and lonely. I was out at a bar and my brain was off, while my animal instincts were on auto-pilot.

A few drinks later, I was sitting side-by-side with Blue, leaning toward him like a desperate college chick.

“I’m Damon,” he said with a nod of acknowledgement. An air of confidence exuded from him.

“Hiiii, Damon,” I said, stretching the words in a singsong voice. Flirty wasn’t really the word I would’ve used to describe my tone. Tipsy, horny, and hell-bent on forgetting my heartache described it better. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a cocky half-smile.

The cute guy sitting next to Damon leaned in to join the conversation. “I’m Charlie. What’s your name?” Charlie was a little shorter than Damon with green-eyes and brown hair, but just as handsome.

“Oh, I’m Salem.” I pointed a sloppy hand at myself, barely noticing that I was beginning to slur the simplest of words.

“Salem, why don’t you tell your hot friend to come join us?” Charlie pointed down the bar where Paige was checking her phone.

I rolled my eyes, suddenly annoyed by the idea of such a boring commitment, and snorted, “Because she’s married.”

“Damn, they’re always married,” he whined.

“Do you always buy drinks for girls?” I asked Damon, his sea blue eyes mesmerizing me.

“Only the pretty ones,” he said with a wink.

Ha. Right.
“You know I’m thirty-eight, right?”

Without a hitch, Damon said, “Even better. I like older women.” He elbowed Charlie in the ribs, knowingly.

Charlie laughed. “I’m going outside to smoke, bro. Hey, Salem, tell your hot friend if she ever gets divorced to look me up.”

I winked. Hopefully only one eye. Hard to tell. “You bet, hot shot.” Clearly, my tipsiness improved my sarcasm.

As soon as Charlie was out of sight, Damon leaned in and whispered, “So what’s a sexy thirty-eight year old doing at a bar with her married friend on a Thursday night?”

Wow. How did I begin to answer that? Even in my drunken stupor I wasn’t dumb enough to mention Chris King. “Just wanted to have a little fun,” I shrugged, wiggling my tongue to get my straw in my mouth.

Damon’s expression screamed his intentions, as he placed his hand on my thigh. “Well, you came to the right place,” he said, low and sultry.

“Salem.” The familiar voice from behind pierced through me, sobering me up in an instant.

I spun around to see Chris staring at me. He looked like a train wreck. Disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes, jacket hanging crooked off his shoulders. I nearly spilled the rest of my drink down myself. “Chris. What’re you doin’ here? How did you find me?” The words tumbled out of my mouth.

Ignoring my question, he glared at Damon sitting on the bar stool next to me. Damon, who’d just seconds earlier had his hand on my leg, was now leaning away from the scene and looking the other direction.

Finally tearing his eyes away from the back of Damon’s head, Chris said, “I drove by your house and you weren’t there. I figured you were at one of the only two places that stay open past eleven in this town.” Chris’s glare continued to bounce between me and the back of Damon’s head. “I needed to see you. I just needed a chance to explain myself. Please Salem, let me take you home.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, swaying a little on my unsteady five inch heels. “Why should I go with you?”

Damon took our exchange as a hint, easing off the barstool and heading out the back door to the patio. I watched him through the window as he found Charlie and bummed a smoke, never even glancing back.

Chris stepped toward me. “God, Salem. Look at you. What are you doing?”

I wanted to slap that look of disappointment right off his face. What right did he have after what he did?
He’s judging me?
“What business is it of yours?” I sneered.

“Because I care about you,” he retorted, fists clenched by his sides.

“Care about me?” I seethed. “So you cared about me while you were screwing that whore?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glowered, “Well, if you care about me so much, then where the hell have you been this whole past week? Texts and phone calls don’t mean shit when you betray someone like that. You should have been here, making things right. Why the hell haven’t you been here?” My voice sounded more desperate with each spoken word. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to fight them back.

Chris’s feet were spread apart, fists clenched, heaving breaths causing his chest to rise and fall quickly. “I
have
been here! I’ve been here all along.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes at him. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” Chris countered. His jaw muscle pulsed as he gritted his teeth

“Really?” I asked again, throwing my hands in the air and looking around as if I were searching for him, but coming up short. “Well, then where the hell have you been? Because I sure as hell haven’t seen you anywhere!” My chest heaved a lot more than I wanted it to. I didn’t want to show him how broken I was or how much he’d hurt me. I didn’t want him to know he’d affected me at all.

But Chris must have seen it written all over my face because he lunged toward me, pushing me back against the bar. Face to face, his nose was inches from mine. He pressed his hand against my chest where my heart slammed beneath it. His eyes were wide, penetrating mine, while his breaths came hard and fast. With a husky tone in his voice, he said, “I’m here, Salem. Right fucking here.” He wrapped his other arm around my waist, clinging to me as if his life depended on it. His breath was hot against my ear as he whispered, “I’ve always been right here.”

I glanced down at his hand over my heart. I wanted to believe him. It felt so good to be in his arms again. I wanted to melt into his arms and never let him go. And yet, at the same time, I wanted to pluck him off of me like a deer tick on my skin. I loved him and hated him simultaneously. Clutching him, I buried my head in his chest, breathing in his strong masculine scent. In that brief moment, my love for him betrayed my hate, and the intensity of my anger started to wane. I glanced down at his hand and felt safe and secure because there he stood, holding my heart, just like he’d done the last few months.

His eyes were glassy as he held me in his arms. He reached up, cupping my face in his hands and gently kissed my forehead. Dragging his lips softly across my skin, caressing my cheek as he brushed by, he made his way down the side of my face toward my ear. “I’ll always be right here, baby. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I swear on my life I will never hurt you again.”

Just then, with his reminder of why we were there in the first place, the lid that I’d put on the pot of my emotions flew off, and my rage boiled over.

Tears burst from my eyes. “Why?” I roared, louder than I expected to. “Why did you do that to me?” I pounded an angry fist into his chest. “Did that night at my house and all this time we’ve spent together mean
nothing
to you?” Before I knew it, I was pounding against his chest repeatedly, over and over with every desperate plea for an explanation. “Why did you tell me you love me then hurt me like that? Why? Please tell me, why?”

“I’m so sorry, Salem.” It was all he could muster as he took every blow, allowing me to project my hurt and anger out on him. When my energy was spent, Chris wrapped his arms around me. “Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

My heaving breaths came hard and fast as I tried to get a handle on my rage. Suddenly, realizing how out of control I’d gotten, I buried my head in his chest, humiliated by my maniacal outburst.

He looked at Paige, who was wide-eyed with shock over the scene she’d just witnessed. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Paige, dumbfounded, stammered, “You’re…Chris…King…”

Chris smiled warmly at her. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

Snapping out of her trance, Paige giggled, clasping a hand over her embarrassed grin.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “Oh, no it’s okay. I stopped drinking a while ago, and I only had one. Thanks anyway.”

“You sure?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She nodded resolutely. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been sipping water and keeping my eye on her.” She glanced out the window at Damon, who already had his arm around a beautiful blonde and was laughing it up with Charlie. “Harmless flirting. That’s all it was,” she said, trying to defend me.

Chris smiled. “I know. I’ll walk you girls out, okay?”

Starry-eyed, Paige grabbed her purse, and he escorted both of us out of the bar. Peering around his back at me, she whispered harshly, “When you mentioned Chris, you didn’t say anything about Chris-
Fifth-Wheel
-King.”

I shrugged my shoulders, still embarrassed by my tirade. “Sorry.”

When we reached her Suburban, she grabbed me in a hug and hissed into my ear, “How do you know him?”

I’m sure I sounded like an idiot when I answered flatly, “He was one of my cases when I worked at Fairbanks.”

She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re dating one of your former clients?”

“It’s a lonnnnggg story.” I dragged out the word so she’d know that there just wasn’t time to explain it all right then. I shook my head discreetly, widening my eyes in a secret promise to tell her later.

“Well when I call you tomorrow, you better tell me everything,” she demanded.

I nodded my head like a bobble-head doll. “I will. I promise.”

Paige gave me a quick squeeze and hopped into her car. “Talk to you later,” she called before shutting her door and driving away.

When I turned around, Chris was waiting for me by his Range Rover. He leaned against it, crossing his feet in front of him. I stomped toward him, trying to ignore the sexiness that exuded from him.

I folded my arms across my chest and cocked my hip. “You don’t get to hurt me then walk back into my life as if nothing happened and expect me to forgive you on the spot,” I snapped, glaring at him.

Chris took a step toward me, reaching out for me. “Salem, please…if you’ll just let me explain,” he pleaded, looking at me with hurt and pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuses for it, okay? I got wasted, and I fucked up.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not going to allow my tears to fall. He ripped my heart out and now he’s back, thinking he can ask for forgiveness and I’ll just forget it ever happened.
No!
I wouldn’t open myself to the possibility of heartache like that again. I’d been through enough. Just then, I snapped my eyes open again. “No. It’s not that easy,” I said coldly and full of disgust as I took a step back. “For all I know, you’re a walking petri dish from the Center for Disease Control.”

Chris denied my accusation, shaking his head adamantly. “I didn’t fuck her, Salem.”

“You’re lying,” I growled, stomping my foot on the ground.

Chris reached out, grasping my shoulders. He was an arm’s length apart from me, but I already felt as though he were creaking open the door of my heart and climbing in. My hurt and stubborn side quickly shoved those thoughts aside.
No. He’s not getting to me.

“Salem,” he rasped, the agony of defeat lacing his voice. “Look at me.”

I didn’t. I couldn’t. I closed my eyes again, wishing I could just go back to the night before the concert where I would rip those backstage passes to shreds and toss them in the trashcan.

“Please, baby. Look at me,” he pleaded desperately, clutching my shoulders, “Open your eyes and
see
the truth.”

My heart was weak, and the word ‘baby’ was my kryptonite. The gentle pressure of his hands on my shoulders reminded me of the closeness I felt to him that night in my bed. I missed that. I missed him. I took a deep, staggering breath. The refreshing scent of cedar and sandalwood took me back to the night we shared our first kiss. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open, and I peered up at him in the warm glow of the street lights.

Chris’s dark irises pierced mine, and I knew he’d already won me over.

****

CHRIS

There they were—those beautiful eyes I’d been dreaming about since the morning I’d left her alone in her bed. God, I’d missed her.

I’d stood there, frozen by the fear that I had already lost her forever. I knew if I could just get her to open her eyes that she’d see the pain in mine and my strong plea for forgiveness. She’d understand me, just like she always had.

I took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
“Salem, I swear,” I whispered, “I know I screwed up, but I didn’t screw
her
.”

Salem glared at me, deepening the crease in her furrowed brow. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” I pleaded, gripping her shoulders. “I swear.”

She cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced. “So, you’re telling me you didn’t fuck some chick in the hotel room that night?”

“No, I swear, I didn’t,” I vowed. I could already see her shutting me out. Fear gripped me, and my tone became needy, desperate to make my plea. “I couldn’t go through with it. All of a sudden, I could see myself in the moment. I knew I was about to fuck things up, just like I’d always done in the past, but I’m
done
fucking things up, Salem. I just couldn’t hurt you like that.”

Salem released her folded arms, dropping them down by her sides. I wondered if she could hear the truth in my voice because her glaring hostility was beginning to fade a little. “So, you stopped because you didn’t want to hurt me?” She cocked her head a little, trying to grasp my explanation.

Reaching up, I clutched the back of her head and met her at eye level. My face was inches from hers as I whispered, “Of course I stopped because I didn’t want to hurt you, but beyond all that, Salem, I’m done hurting
me
.”

In that moment, her expression softened. “Oh, Chris…” her voice faltered and her hands flew to her gaping mouth.