Damaged 2 (10 page)

"Mmm,
so you've said. So back in the day, was it a normal thing for you to take home
random girls that sat down at your table?"

An
embarrassed look flitters across his face and disappears in a blink. "Maybe."

"So
the newspapers saying you were a playboy, those reports were…?" I'm fishing,
trying to get a feel for his past. I want to know more about him. I pick at a
spot on my jeans with my finger and look over at him from the corner of my eye.

"An
understatement. I uh…" He lets out a rush of air and glances at me. "What
specifically are you asking?" Peter seems nervous and grips the steering wheel
harder.

"Rumor
has it that you punched or screwed everyone you came across for a while."

"I
punched guys and screwed women, not the other way around. Tell me that's not
what you're asking—I'm not bi and I don't hit ladies." He glances at me quickly
and then returns his gaze to the road.

"Good
to know." I become silent, trying to figure out what I think of him and how it
fits in to what I already know.

"What
about you?"

"What
about me?"

"Same
questions—do you have any bisexual inclinations or punch random women? I could
get on board with both of those, ya know."

The
corners of my mouth lift. "You're so stupid."

"You
didn't answer, Miss Colleli."

I
shrug. "Up until I met you I thought I was broken. The idea of being with
anyone like that wasn't appealing."

"And
now?"

"Now,
I might be tossing the idea around a little bit, maybe." I grit my teeth
together and mentally scold myself as my face grows hot. I bend over and press
my face into my knees.

"I
told you that you like coming onto me. I think we should play it this way." I
glance up at him, loving that he didn't comment on my red face. "I won't have
sex with you. You're the one who decides that stuff, and I'll follow your lead,
okay?" He takes my hand and squeezes it. "Thinking about it isn't bad, you
know. It means you're moving on."

My
mood deflates like a balloon. I glance out the window after taking my hand
back. "No, I'm not. I'm just tired of waiting to get over it."

"Sidney,
you're farther down the road than me. I'm going to lose sight of you soon. I
think you're right: we don't really forget what happened, but we accept it and
learn to live with it. I haven't done that yet, at all, but you have and you
are. I wish…" His voice trails off. When I glance at him, I notice how tight
his jaw is, like he locked it to keep from speaking.

"Tell
me," I say gently and reach for his hand. His palm is hot, but the skin on the
back is cold to the touch. I thread his fingers through mine, wishing I could
erase his pain.

He
smiles sadly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm standing at the brim of a mental
cliff. My toes are over the edge, and the slightest wind will knock me off
balance. I know I'll fall, but I can't back away. That's my life. That's my
brother's life, except he went over the rim. I don't want to end up like that.
If I stand there, I know I'll fall, but I can't seem to back away." He inhales
slowly and lets out a shaky breath without looking at me.

Trees
zoom past the windows as the turkey rustles in the back seat. The animal makes
a noise and goes back to sleep. "Yeah, I know what you mean. For the first
couple of years, it felt like I fell into a gorge. My stomach was in my throat
all the time. I was worried about what would happen to me when I hit the
bottom."

"You
think you hit the bottom?" I nod. "What was there?"

I
think about it for a second and smile at him. "You were there. That night in
the restaurant, that was the bottom of my pit. That ended the free fall, and
everything shifted." Peter nods, but doesn't say anything. "You can't control
everything; take it from someone who knows. Let go a little bit and see where
you end up. It might not be so bad."

Peter
squeezes my hand and lifts it to his lips. "I don't deserve you."

"I
didn't think happiness was in the cards for me, but then I met you. You deserve
a reprieve from anything you've done that's chewing you up inside. Stop
thinking so much and see where life takes you. Who knows, you might end up in a
car with a crazy girl and a cross-dressing vulture." Peter smiles warmly. I
scoot into the middle seat and lean my head against his shoulder.

CHAPTER
14

When
we hit Pennsylvania Peter stops for gas. I run into the ladies' room while he
fills up, and on the way out, I run into my twin—like literally run into him.
Sam steps in front of me and I smack into his lean body. I look up, ready to
apologize, but then see who it is.

"So
you came." Sam's hair is hidden under a ball cap. He's wearing an old track
T-shirt from high school with a pair of jeans. It's the same look he had before
I left home. Sam's shoulders slump forward slightly from fatigue. He glances
toward the refrigerator case at the back of the store where Dean is standing
with his back toward me.

I
keep moving toward the door. I'm not having another altercation at a mini-mart.
"Of course I came." I make it to the front of the store and push outside. The
door trips a bell that makes my blood run cold. I feel Dean's eyes on me. They
drift over my back like a cold claw, but I don't stop.
Get in the car. Get
in the car. Get in the car.

"The
guy's with you?" Sam looks around for Peter and sees him standing by my car,
refueling it.

"Obviously.
I'll see you at home."

Sam
nods. His gaze narrows when he looks at Peter. "I don't like him, Sid. He seems
a little off, like he might snap and go postal or something."

"Then
don't piss him off." I finish speaking as I reach the car. Peter looks up, and
anger flashes in his eyes when he sees Sam. "Come on, let's get out of here." I
slip into my seat quickly and pull the seat belt across my lap. I don't need to
say anything to Peter. He takes my cue and leaves, but not before staring both
men down. I wonder if Peter is unstable, but brush away the thought. We're all
unstable to some extent. Having someone watching my back isn't a bad thing.

After
we're on the road, Peter asks, "Did he touch you?"

"No,
not really. I walked into Sam. Dean didn't say anything. He just watched me
like a creeper." Chills run over my skin. I smooth them out with my hand, but
it takes a while for them to go away. I glance back at the turkey and wonder if
he's dead. "He doesn't move much, does he?"

Peter
glances up into the mirror. "Only at night when I'm about to have sex with you.
It's like we have a chaperone." Peter seems tense, like he has liquid anxiety
flowing through his veins instead of blood. "We're going to have dinner with my
brother tonight, if that's all right. I need his help with something."

I
nod, not really understanding why he's nervous. I keep looking behind us,
wondering how far away Dean and Sam are. "Which brother is this?"

"Sean,
the eldest. My younger brother is a free spirit, but Sean is more down-to-earth.
He's dealt with shit, which is why I want to talk to him." Peter looks fine,
but his voice is a little too tight, and his hands are at ten and two on the
steering wheel. He only does that when he's pissed or worried.

"What
do you want to talk to him about?"

"You
and me. I don't want to share your pain with anyone, and maybe I won't have to,
but Sean is kind of unpredictable. I need to know if I can mention what
happened with you and your family—and Dean."

"You
trust him, even after he killed his wife?"

"Yeah,
but I have to say that I don't know what happened that night. No one does. Sean
never spoke about it, but I don't think he killed her. He was so excited about
the baby. It just doesn't make any sense." He's quiet for a moment, thinking.

I
wonder what would drive someone to kill. I hate Dean, but I don't want to kill
him, not when I'm rational or awake anyway. But if Dean got hit by a truck, I
wouldn't lose any sleep over it. I wonder if that's the same thing and suppose
on some level it is.

I
glance at Peter. "Say whatever you want. I just don't want the whole story
plastered all over the Internet in the morning. And I don't want to hear it
when you tell him, either. Tell me to go to the bar or something." My stomach
flip-flops inside of me. I hate the idea, but if Peter feels like he needs his
brother, I think it'll be good for him.

Being
cut off from my family freed me in some ways, but I regret it. I didn't want
things to end that way, but I had no idea how to fix it. This is a chance for
Peter to mend fences with his brother. I want to encourage it even though the
name Sean Ferro sends ice down my spine.

_____

We
get to New York pretty late. Peter calls his brother when we get to the hotel.
We shower and dress quickly. As I'm applying eyeliner, I see Peter walk by
behind me. He has a towel around his waist and his hair is damp and tousled.
From where I stand, he can't see me unless he looks up in the mirror. The wall
outside the bathroom extends into the room, giving the illusion of privacy. I
freeze and wonder if he saw me change before. I can't remember where he was
standing, but I don't think it was over here.

My
eyes dart toward movement and I catch sight of Peter dropping the towel. He
stands with his back to me, totally naked. The eye pencil hovers as I blink
rapidly, taking him in. Peter's body is perfection, except for that scar at his
waist. The gash is a thin white line that extends down and wraps around his
side. His back is all muscle, but I knew that before.

What
I'm staring at—what I can't rip my eyes off of—is that perfect ass. He's all
toned muscle, every bit of him, and that butt is no exception. My mouth gapes
open as I stare, wondering what it would be like to have that naked body
sliding against mine with my nails biting into that perfect behind. There isn't
a rational thought in my head. I just stare, thinking about feeling every inch
of him beneath me, wondering what that would be like. That's when he bends over
to grab his boxers and I nearly die. A breath catches in my throat as I shift
my position in front of the mirror to get a better view. That's when I manage
to jab the pencil into my eye.

Peter
spins around to see what happened, thinking that I can't see his gorgeous naked
body. I squeeze my eye shut and mutter expletives. When I look up I can see his
beautiful blue eyes in the glass, they lock with mine, and a wicked smile
spreads across his face. "Were you watching me, Miss Colleli?"

"No,
I just thought about that pirate thing you said last night, so I—"
What the
hell am I saying?

"So
you stabbed yourself in the eye?" He's walking toward me, which makes me so
nervous I can't stand up. My heart hammers inside of me as nervous energy races
up and down my arms. I slam the pencil onto the counter and blink repeatedly,
trying not to look at him. I've never had any interest in looking at a naked
man before. I never saw what all the fuss was over. I mean it's not like that
whole hairy package area was appealing, but oh my God—on Peter it's
completely…Ideas ricochet off of my mind and simultaneously bounce in a million
directions. I want to touch and slide my hand along his stomach, my lips tingle
as I think about kissing him below the belt, and my tongue—it's like I've lost
my mind. Totally foreign thoughts whirl through me and rip away things I put on
my
I'll never do that
list.

Before
I realize he's crossed the room, Peter is behind me. He steps close to my back
and looks over my shoulder at us in the mirror. One of my eyes pretty much has
a black line over it since I drew on my face after I stabbed myself. I look
ridiculous, but I so don't care. His naked proximity shoots tension through
every bit of me.

"You
were watching me, Colleli."

"You're
nice to watch, Granz." I say it too confidently, as if I look at naked men all
the time. Then, I point to my red eye and say, "I hope you have a thing for
pirates. I'm pretty sure I—" An involuntary noise emerges from my throat as Peter
puts his hands on my waist. I'm so high strung, so lust ridden, that I can't
think. We watch each other in the mirror.

Peter's
eyes are so dark. His voice is deeper than usual when he speaks. "Turn around,
Sidney."

I
shake my head even though I want to turn and look. I'm so lying to myself. I
want more. I feel it coursing through me. I don't want to look; I want to touch
and do things that I never thought I'd do. Oral sex doesn't sound so bad at the
moment, and I wonder about it for a second. Before now, I wasn't interested in
anything, and the idea of sitting on some guy's face or kneeling and sucking
his…I can't even finish the thought. My lips twitch as I consider it, which
makes the sexy smile on Peter's face brighter.

Peter
hesitates, but then slowly lowers his lips to my neck. His mouth brushes
against me lightly when his hands slip to my shoulders. The touch is gentle but
firm. My head tips to the side, and I close my eyes. Peter pulls away but
doesn't release my shoulders. I glance at him in the mirror. The only thing I
can see is his chest. "We better get dressed and go downstairs." I try to nod,
but my head doesn't actually move. My God, he broke me. I couldn't form a
coherent sentence right now if I wanted to.

I
try, and my tongue tangles in my mouth. "They'll think we're not coming."

Peter's
lips twitch. "For someone who's never made love, you use a lot of double
entendres." He winks at me before kissing my cheek and crossing the room. A
shiver tickles the skin on my back, running down my spine and landing between
my legs with a tingling that won't stop.