Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel (19 page)

Now I can’t look back.

Liv keeps her arm linked with mine, leading me into the pub. The second the upbeat folk music flows over me, I exhale deeply. The wave of loud chatter from the crowd around the bar engulfs me. Here, everyone is carefree and happily drunk, and I discover that’s a blissful relief.

I give in to the moment when Liv stops by an open space at the bar. I notice a pretty brunette tending to the customers, as well as a drop-dead gorgeous guy, complete with hazel bedroom eyes. Tall and fit, around Micah’s age. I’m wondering if this could be Gabe. I bite my lip, sorting through the thousand questions I want to ask him, and stay behind Liv as she orders us drinks.

People are everywhere, either dancing at the back with the band, or standing around the bar, drinking their night away. The folk band is playing a catchy beat and my foot begins to tap along with the drums.

“Hello.”

I turn toward the deep, smooth voice, spotting an athletic man in his late twenties. His emerald green eyes have a slight angle and his smile holds charm.
But he’s not Micah,
my heart reminds me. “Hi,” I say.

“I’m Brock.” He offers his hand. “And you are?”

I return his handshake. “Allie.”

“Hi there, Allie.”

He’s still smiling at me when Liv sidles up and offers the crisp pint of beer. She glances at me and then spies Brock, a gleam in her eyes. She finishes with a totally fake serious look. “I should
not
have had those two glasses of water before we came. I’ll be right back.”

I chuckle at her. Such lies she tells.

Even Brock grins at Liv as she scurries off. When she fades into the crowd, he asks me, “So, Allie, what do you do?”

I move toward the small table in front of me and place my beer on top. Talking to Brock will give me time to wait for Gabe to take a break, and then I can introduce myself and ask what I need to—or at least that’s my plan. “I’m a real estate agent,” I say to Brock as he settles in close beside me. “How about you?”

“Corporate lawyer.” He gives a playful wink. “Totally boring stuff and not worth talking about.”

I laugh, not blind to his charming personality. He’s got the looks too, seemingly cut right out of a
GQ
advertisement. I begin listening to him as he’s easily talking, and I’m answering his questions whenever he asks. I smile a lot, and I’m noticing how he likes to touch my arm when I laugh at something he says. He seems like a nice guy,
exactly
someone I would’ve dated before. A pang hits my chest hard, while the subject switches to sports. As cute as Brock is, he’s not the guy I want to flirt with. Which I guess is kinda surprising, because the guy I want can’t be more wrong for me.

Isn’t this the lesson my mother taught me:
don’t date that
guy, the one every girl knows will hurt you in the end.
Micah has hurt me more than once, and yet it feels entirely wrong to give up on him. It’s like we’re magnets, and I’m drawn to him so intensely that I can’t turn away.

Brock obviously notes my mood change, stroking my arm. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Sorry.” I smile, trying to enjoy the moment and get to know a guy who doesn’t seem to carry a whole suitcase of baggage. But somehow this guy cannot possibly compete with Micah. Logically, I know I shouldn’t want Micah. But he stirs something inside me, a
need
for him that no other man ever has before. I realize that I can’t refuse his grip on me, because, from day one, it’s never been a choice. It’s an irrefutable fact
.

I blink out of my thoughts, hearing the loud music again, when Liv suddenly catches my eye. She’s standing a few feet away, near the washrooms, yelling something at me I can’t hear over the music.

But then I do understand, because I see Micah storming by Liv and shoving himself into the small space between Brock and me.

“Do not touch her again,” Micah slurs, lurching into Brock’s face.

“Whoa, buddy.” Brock’s forced to take a step back, raising his hands in surrender. “Take it easy.”

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion, when I hear someone shout, “Shit,” behind me. I glance over my shoulder, just as the bartender jumps over the bar, charging toward us, and shoving his way in between Micah and Brock. He grins over Micah’s shoulder at me. “Allie, I presume?”

I nod. “Gabe?”

He mirrors my nod, then gently pushes on Micah’s chest, moving me out of the way. “You’ll regret this tomorrow. Let’s go.”

“Get your fucking hands off me, Gabe.” Micah’s shaking off his friend, practically snarling at Brock. “He touched her. No one touches her.”

Why not?
screams in my mind.

You pushed me away!
my heart roars.

Gabe grabs Micah’s arms, pushing harder now, and the vein protruding from his forehead tells me Gabe’s struggling to keep Micah back. For whatever reason, that snaps me into focus. Micah’s not some random guy in a bar fight. He’d end up on
TMZ,
and if he hit Brock, this would end badly, with a lawsuit.

Emotions are spiraling through me when I place my hand on Micah’s back, smelling the whisky reeking from him, and feeling him quivering with an intensity I hadn’t before experienced. All of his coiled power is dangerously unleashed
.
“Micah,” I say, softly.

He turns to me and I gasp at the flatness in his eyes. I don’t know this guy. He’s never been so out of control or so reckless. He’s never looked so dead inside or so lost. “You need to go,” I tell him gently, bringing him back to reason.

His eyes glaze over, and I realize he’s not even seeing me. His demons aren’t showing themselves. They’ve overpowered him. My heart is reaching for his, no matter that he’s the reason it’s hurting. “We’re leaving.
Right now.”
I grab the hem of his T-shirt, tugging him forward. I’m surprised that he doesn’t fight me, following easily. But that tells me a lot. It shows me that even when he’s lost, I can bring him back to me.

The moment we reach outside, and the cooler air brushes across my heated face, I notice the Bentley squealing to a stop in front of us. Levi jumps out of the car, takes one look at Micah, and snorts, “In fine form tonight, I see.”

Micah stumbles, weaving from side to side. “Fucking kill him…”

I’m reeling as Gabe and Levi deposit Micah into the backseat of the Bentley. My heart is clenching as I take one last look at him, slumped over. God, he looks so broken that it breaks me too. Seeing him now, like
this,
and his jealousy, I know there’s something deeper he’s burying inside of him.

Something that should scare me.

But something that doesn’t.

When I go to shut the door, Gabe squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t give up on him,” he says.

“You know what?” I drawl in exasperation. “Today, Micah ended things with
me.
Now he’s acting like
this.
” I turn to face Gabe, folding my arms. “I’m so damn sick of all the things I don’t know, so how about you tell me what the hell is going on with him?”

Gabe pauses, his eyes searching mine. “He never told you.”

“He never told me
what
?”

Gabe thrusts a hand through his hair, shifting from foot to foot repeatedly, until he curses. “I can’t keep watching him punish himself.” He places both hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him, looking me directly in the eye. “Tonight I gave him a bottle of whisky. I left him alone for fifteen minutes and I came back to an empty bottle. Then I endured listening to him talking of how he doesn’t deserve you.” Gabe leans in closer, and I get a whiff of his woodsy cologne when he adds, “What Juliet told you the other night he thinks will ruin you. That
he
will ruin you. It happened to him before. He fears it will happen again.”

First, I can’t believe what Gabe is admitting. Clearly this DC, or whatever it is, is something Gabe is also involved in, because how in the hell would he know about Juliet? Second, I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, trying to understand what he’s talking about. “Ruin me how? What happened before?”

“There’s more to his past than I’m sure he’s told you. And I know that because he never tells anyone about it.” He glances at Micah in the backseat, who’s now completely passed out and snoring softly. “Did Micah tell you why he and Clara broke up?”

“He said things just didn’t work out.”

Gabe glances from left to right, and even I notice the busy street around us before he adds, “What Juliet told you about Micah. That
thing
he is drawn to. Clara found that out about him too, and ended the relationship.”

I’m staring at Gabe, waiting for him to say something more, but he doesn’t comment further, telling me
that
is the reason they broke up. I’m admitting to myself now that maybe Micah is
really
sadistic, when Gabe continues, “In her pain and sadness over the breakup, and maybe even to get back at Micah, Clara told her father about Micah’s…
preferences.
Her corrupt father went to Micah’s dad and blackmailed them.”

My stomach begins churning. “What did Micah do?”

“Asked his father to pay the money.” The distaste toward Micah’s dad burns in Gabe’s eyes, as does the affection he has for Micah. “The first million Micah made he gave to his father to pay back his debt.”

I swallow, disbelieving what I’m hearing. “And his father took it?”

Gabe nods.

I grasp my middle, trying to absorb all this. Micah’s father took his
son’s
money instead of simply protecting him. Bile rises in my throat. Though I’m now understanding why when Micah thought he’d become his dad it bothered him so much. His father did some really terrible things.

But Micah’s nothing like him, I don’t doubt that at all. And as much as I’m led to believe that Micah is this sadistic, twisted guy, I don’t see it. I shut my eyes, fighting off the chill inside. I’m beginning to see that Micah’s secrets aren’t to hide, but to protect himself, because those he loved cut him deeply. That perception is changing how I see him, opening my eyes in a way they weren’t open before.

He’s not keeping secrets from me to hurt me.

He fears his secrets.

He’s protecting me from them.

“I’ve never seen him like I saw him tonight,” Gabe says, returning my attention to him. “He’s broken. And Micah never breaks.” His head tilts, and he’s regarding me deeply. “So, Allie, tell me, what do you think that means?”

I glance at Micah, passed out in the backseat, knowing exactly what that means. I have the power to destroy his demons, because with me, they come out fighting strong, knowing I can banish them. But I also know I can’t allow him to hurt me in the process, which he can so very easily do.

He has to choose
us.
I can’t do that for him.

I heave a long sigh, shutting the door, knowing I won’t figure this out right now. The Bentley’s lights fade into the night and I feel every brush of air against my skin. I hear every loud bang of my heart. I feel like I’m floating, lost in a reality that’s mine, yet isn’t.

“You never answered me.”

I turn to Gabe, finding tight concern around the corners of his eyes. “Yes, I know exactly what that means. He
needs
me,” is the only reply I’m prepared to give now.

I see Micah’s demons.

I’m beginning to understand why they’re there.

The only question that remains:
Am I strong enough to fight them?

The next morning, I exit the en suite bathroom, wrapping a towel around my waist. Cold water drips from my hair down the side of my cheek, but the coolness is easing the heat of my flesh. Everything’s foggy this morning and my stomach’s weak. I’m struggling to remember what happened last night. So far I’ve only gotten quick flashes of being at the pub and of Allie showing up, but the rest seems stuck behind a haze I can’t break through.

My mouth is pasty and my feet are dragging against the hardwood floor as I move into the walk-in closet. I dry my hair, hanging the towel over the door, torn between what I want and what I thought I had to do to protect Allie. I realize, as I grab a pair of black workout pants, I don’t know how to live with her. But as I step into my pants, I acknowledge that I’m crashing without her.

I reach for a gray T-shirt in the drawer, and after dressing, a sudden flash of Allie’s smile reminds me of the fight I nearly got into last night. Her smile that can never lose its warmth, and altered my life the moment I set eyes on her, feels like it belongs to me. When she unleashed it on someone else, and that guy touched her arm, the final strands of my control vanished.

My skin burns red-hot as I exit the closet to fetch a drink of water, when I find Levi standing in the doorway, holding a mug in one hand and painkillers in the other.

“I called Holt to let Neil know you were taking a sick day,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say, accepting the pills.

“That should help the headache.” He hands me the mug. “This will kill your hangover altogether. It’s a family recipe.”

I sniff the brown, thick liquid. “What is it?”

“Better that you don’t know.” Levi smiles, mischievously. “Just drink.”

I toss the pills into my mouth and chase them back with the hot drink. The thick-as-molasses liquid makes it to my stomach before I’m coughing. “Cures a hangover by killing the person, right?”

Levi chuckles. “There will always be a punishment for getting completely shit-faced.” I force back another sip, recalling Levi depositing me into my bed last night. Which explains why I woke up this morning fully clothed. I lower the mug from my mouth, when Levi’s eyes, wise as always, zero on me. “Do you remember seeing Allie?”

“Vaguely.” I move to the four-poster bed, leaning against the dark wood column. “Did I…”

“Make an ass of yourself?”

I nod.

“Totally,” Levi states, dryly, then he gives a half shrug. “Luckily for you, she seemed more concerned than annoyed with you.”

“I would expect nothing less from her.” That’s how Allie cares for people. I’m seeing it more and more now. She gives second, third, and fourth chances, yet somehow holds her strength when she does.

Her loving someone right isn’t her weakness; it’s her
gift.

An ache begins to thump behind my eyes. No doubt the pains from my hangover. Confusion squeezes my mind. Her
gift
is blurring the lines I’ve drawn. I want to go to her.
Fuck,
I want to hold her tight, never allowing anyone else to touch something so pure and beautiful. But the truth is, the person most capable of harming her is me.

It’s a charade that has to end.

I want to be someone different with her. I wish I could be. But the darkness clawing inside me reminds me that I’ll never be the gentle, sweet, loving guy she deserves. It’s not in my DNA. I force myself to take bigger sips of the drink to survive it, doing my best to ignore the bitter aftertaste. A bead of sweat slides down my cheek and my chest is tingling, but I’m not sure if that’s from the booze leaving my body, the concoction Levi is feeding me, or my shame over Allie.

Now I remember her helping me exit the bar. She stood by me. Even after how cold I’d been to her, she’d been there when I needed her. I don’t know this kind of love. It’s supportive. It’s unconditional. It’s kind. But I also know that it does have a limit, and once Allie’s affection is gone, it will be gone forever.

My flesh itches and crawls. Last night, the booze made
everything
quiet. Now a loud roar of uncertainty is screaming in my mind.

“Looks like you’ve got some more color now,” says Levi, breaking into my thoughts. “Which is good, since there’s someone waiting for you in the library.”

“Who?” I push off the end of the bed, approaching Levi.

“Darius Bennett.”

I stretch my neck, releasing the tension filling my muscles. Darius is the last person I want to see, but he’s the exact man I knew I’d wake to this morning. I hurt Allie. I have to answer for it. I down the remainder of the liquid in one painful gulp, realizing the world is a little straighter and my head is clearer. “You should bottle that stuff and sell it,” I tell Levi, handing him the mug.

“Nah, it’d never be FDA approved.” His eyebrows pinch together, lips press tight, and I can tell he has more to say that isn’t about his hangover remedy.

I simply don’t want to hear it, moving to the mirror on the wall, a thousand-pound weight on my chest. The air is heavy and thick as I give my hair a quick style, hearing no sounds around me. I’ve always handled the silence before. Now it unnerves me. Ghosts are haunting me, and I’m alone in this house I can’t stand.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

I glance over my shoulder, finding Levi’s gaze unfocused. My lips part, but he raises his hands, stopping me. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” The glare he’s giving me leaves no room for argument, and I begrudgingly shut my mouth as he goes on. “In the time I’ve seen you with Allie, for even the fleeting moment you had together, I thought…” His voice cracks, eyes warm. “I thought I had seen the man you might have been if your mother never passed away. You were happy. Truly content. Allie is the
best
thing that’s ever happened to you.” The warmth leaves his eyes; the strength returning just that easily. “It’s time to start living in the shadow of your mother, not in what your father tried to make you.” He slaps his hand against the doorframe before addressing me again. “Stop working all the time. You’re rich enough. Get married. Have a couple of kids. Make some goddamn memories to warm up this fucking cold and empty house. Hear what I’m saying, because you won’t recover from her.” He points his finger at me, glaring. “Don’t fuck it up.”

A wave of heat storms against me and I blink, finding Levi gone. My spinning head is now somersaulting around me and I’ve never wanted out of my skin so badly. Levi’s words touch something inside of me that I don’t know. I can’t even sort through how they’ve affected me. Each step I take from the bedroom sends me spiraling deeper into the unknown. I’m not sure what to do next, or how I should act, all I know is I need to face the man waiting for me downstairs.

My throat is so damn tight as I’m heading down the curved staircase, making my way to the library. The only sound is of my bare feet tapping against the floor as I enter the rectangular room, discovering Darius standing near the bay window.

Books, which all had belonged to my mother, line the walls. She’d been a faithful reader during her life, and my father never changed this room after she died. I hadn’t either. She picked the furniture and she touched every book, only reminding me how even if the room never changed, my life had taken a 360-degree turn.

Once, the house had been full of love, happiness, and laughter. Then the ghosts moved in and so did the chill in the air.

The floorboards creak beneath my foot, and Darius turns to me. His gaze rakes me from head to toe before his eyebrows lift. “You look a step away from walking into your grave.”

“I feel like I’ve already taken the final step in.” I move to the faded leather wingback chair and drop into it, preparing myself for Darius’s lashing.

He leaves the window and sits in the seat opposite me, near the black leather chaise my mother used to read on. “Allison stopped by my house this morning.” I can only imagine what she told him. I have to force my shoulders not to hunch when he adds, “Explain to me what happened between you.”

“She knows the truth” is all I have to say.

He frowns. “You told her everything?”

“I didn’t tell her anything. Juliet mistakenly told her”—I pause, gritting my teeth—“what
we
do.”

Darius holds my stare for a few seconds then his expression softens. “When Allison spoke to me this morning, I didn’t get the feeling that she’s upset with you. Sad, yes. Angry, no.”

“It’s a moot point,” I shoot back at him, thrusting a hand through my damp hair. “This is better for her in the long run. And you know it.”

Silence stretches between us, Darius’s stern eyes on mine. Until he shakes his head with a dry laugh. “I told you if you hurt her I would lay you out.” I bow my head, staring at my bare feet, listening to Darius continue. “But I think you’re beating yourself up enough already.” He rises, moving to my side, cupping my shoulder. “Some advice on my sister.” I raise my head, stunned by his warm regard. “She loves in a way that exceeds reason. Her heart has room for so much. But she deserves a man who honors that about her, not fears it.”

I freeze at his words, wondering why he’s not pounding me into the ground, when he adds, “One chance. That’s all you get to love someone in the best way you can. And who knows for how long you’ll be given that right.” The strain on his face and the tight nature of his mouth leave me with the feeling he’s speaking from experience. “You think that you’re protecting her from you, because you’re afraid she can’t accept you and you’ll hurt her, but you can choose another way. You can choose to make her happy.” He squeezes my shoulder again, and warmth seeps from his touch. “I have walked the path you walk now. I have met this exact crossroad.” His sigh speaks of a pain I understand on a deep level, and I see that darkness in the depth of his eyes, too. “Believe me, the torment you feel now will be incomparable to the torment you’ll feel when you regret her.” He steps back and pulls two pieces of paper from his pocket, handing them to me.

I’m fighting the tremble of my hand when I watch him leave, and when I look down at the papers in my hands, I lose that battle. The name in the corner of the check gets my attention first:
Allison Parker.
The million-dollar amount gifted to
Holt’s Hope
also isn’t lost to me.

I open the folded sticky note around the check, and with Levi’s and Darius’s advice on my mind, everything I know—everything I am—shatters, breaking apart, until my eyes grow wet as I read Allie’s handwriting.

This is who you are.

Choose us.

Don’t make me wait too long.

Love, Allie