Текст книги "Jagged Love"

Автор книги: Nicole Simone

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

I knew I’d spend the next day walking around bowlegged due to the events of that afternoon, but I couldn’t complain. Andrew had ended my two-year dry spell with multiple orgasms. He’d put my needs before his and didn’t give it a second thought. Not to mention, controlling in a sexy way that had me bending over backwards to please him (pun intended). A goofy grin had been plastered on my face since we’d left the abandoned house and wouldn’t disappear. It only grew bigger as flashes of our tryst popped into my head. I couldn’t believe we had sex in an abounded house. Anybody could have found us, yet the forbidden factor raked up the hotness scale. Spank my fanny and call me Mary, an exhibitionist resided in my yet. Never thought I would say that. Although my inner slut raged hard in high school, my sex life wasn’t very dirty. I didn’t have sex in closets, in the backseat of cars, or anywhere besides where a bed was present. Andrew’s intoxicating presence made me forget the outside world and solely on the lust raging through my veins.

Dumping my suitcase on his bed, I searched for a dressy casual outfit to wear tonight. Since I had no idea what that term meant, my options were overwhelming. A black wrap cardigan got discarded into the yes pile along with black slacks. So far the pile looked like a whole lot of black and nothing else. However if my memory served me correctly, Andrew’s friends at the strip club had a fondness for the midnight shade. My phone beeped on my nightstand and I pulled up a text message from Monica.

Kick ass tonight and be the sexy bitch I know you are.

I smiled at the screen and wished Monica could have come to the art show. I needed the self-confidence boost of my best friend by my side. Glancing at my lackluster options, my fingers slid open Andrew’s closet doors. A dress stood out amongst the black and gray suites. It shimmered in the light, changing from gray to a light blue, reminding me of a waterfall. A simple note with my name was tacked to the bodice. A squeal bounced off the walls when I realized Andrew had bought the dress for me.

Changing out of my street clothes, I took the dress off the hanger and slipped it over my head. The gown skimmed my curves, landing above my knees. I swished back and forth, overcome with gratitude. Andrew should be renamed Prince Charming. The beauty of the dress blinded me to the shoes on the closet floor. They were white, strappy, and had a six-inch heel. Tonight Andrew and I would be ideal kissing height. Sliding my feet into the stilettos, I did a practice run around his bedroom. At first my legs wobbled but they eventually got the hang of it.

“You are a sight for sore eyes.”

Spinning around, Andrew leaned against the doorframe. He wore an old band t-shirt with a black slim cut jacket. Day old stubble dotted his cheeks. His brown eyes were almost black against his tan complexion and framed by a pair of rim horned glasses. It was a sin how gorgeous Andrew looked.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. How does the man of the hour feel?”

“I feel like I want to throw up, run away, and jump your bones in the same breath.”

Teetering to where he stood, my palm rested against his cheek. “Your artwork is amazing. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Except for the fact I trashed five of my paintings and went on a creative bender that produced artwork way out of my comfort zone.”

“It will be fine. You will be fine.”

He rested his forehead against mine as his fingers slid up my bare thigh. I shivered in pleasure. “How bout I cancel and we stay in bed all night instead?” Andrew’s gaze darkened when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties. His thumb brushed my throbbing sex. “Yes I definitely vote to stay in.”

I swallowed the gasp that wanted to tear free. “We can’t do that.” Arching into his touch, my body said otherwise.

“You sure?”

He teased the opening of my folds. My hands clutched his shirt to steady my legs and I squeezed my eyes shut. Lust racked through me.

“You’re playing dirty,” I said roughly. “It’s not fair.”

“So wet,” he murmured approvingly.

His finger slid inside me, invoking a moan from my lips. I titled my head backwards, drowning in a sea of sensations. His mouth found the sensitive spot near my collarbone and lightly sucked. Goosebumps erupted on my skin. The distant sound of the door slamming shut entered through my haze.

“Andrew? Are you ready?” Matthew yelled out. “Andrew?”

Andrew cursed underneath his breath as the moment shattered.

We broke apart, unfulfilled and clothes rumpled.

“I should have never given that fucker a key,” he murmured.

I laughed at the dismay on his face. “To be continued?”

“That’s not even a question.”

He gripped my waist and yanked me into a toe-curling kiss. My arms instinctively wound around his neck. I could get lost in his touch for years.

Andrew placed my feet back onto the ground and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We are awesome at that.”

“I have to agree. That thing you do with your tongue is mind blowing.”

“Mind blowing? Huh?”

Great, I had inflated his already overblown ego. “Never mind. I take it back; it’s awful, you should never do it again.”

Andrew laughed. “Is that so?” He tickled my sides until tears streamed down my face.

Catching my breath, I swatted away his hands and squealed. “Uncle! Uncle!”

His relentless attack ceased. We looked at each other with silly grins painted on our faces. I don’t remember having this much fun in a long time. Andrew kept me young, which seemed like a weird thing to say when you were only twenty-three years old. However by the time I’d turned five, the weight of my survival had hung like a heavy winter coat around my shoulders. My mom’s sugar daddies benefited my mother and while provided a place to live, did little else for me. I don’t remember having the chance to be a kid.

“There you are!” Matthew exclaimed dramatically when he found us. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” He took stock of our flushed cheeks and disheveled clothes. “Oh.”

Andrew held out his palm face up. “I want my key back.”

“Fine. It’s not like I want to walk in on you two having crazy monkey sex anyways.” He slapped the key into Andrew’s palm. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

Matthew’s eyebrows bunched together. “Who pissed in your tea this morning?”

Shooting him a death glare, Andrew brushed past him into the hallway. Matthew looked over at me in question.

“He’s a little stressed,” I said.

“A little? The guy looks like he is about to bust a vein.”

“I don’t think blue balling him helped.”

Matthew flung his arms in the air, exasperated. “It’s not like I meant to. Besides, I have been blue balled five times this week and I’m not cranky.”

While Matthew wasn’t a bad looking dude, I still didn’t want to imagine him having sex.

“Thanks for that visual,” I replied, my tone steeped in sarcasm. “Is your family going tonight as well?”

As if on cue, the pitter-patter of kids’ footsteps sounded from the entryway along with a woman’s voice. Matthew’s face lit up, which I found incredibly sweet. I appreciated a non-dysfunctional family more than most people and you could tell Mathew’s family was solid as a rock.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Matthew said.

A gaggle of adorable munchkins surrounded Matthew’s wife. They were dressed in their Sunday best and the little girls had bows in their hair. My heart melted. When they saw their father, controlled chaos erupted.

“DADDY!”

Matthew’s five kids jumped and climbed on him as if he was a jungle gym. He gave them all equally his love and attention. I inched along the wall to avoid a wayward leg.

Matthew’s wife grinned at my tactic. “It can be dangerous to raise kids. I can’t tell you how many times I have been stabbed by a missing Lego.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Kelly.”

Gold bangles jingled on her wrist as we shook. “Haven. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well. I have heard a lot about you from Matthew.”

I spoke the standard response to that statement. “All good things I hope?”

“Yes, all good things. Although, he didn’t tell me how pretty you are.”

Kelly’s almond shaped eyes scrutinized my dress and white strappy high heels. Unsure whether to take that as a compliment, my lips remained sealed. I didn’t want to get in the middle of a weird married spat.

Matthew plucked his kids off his body, panting. “I need to get in better shape.”

“That’s why you are on a diet. Remember?” Kelly looked at him pointedly. Matthew stuck out his tongue and she huffed an exasperated sigh. “I swear I’m raising six kids and not five.”

Andrew’s cologne announced his presence. It wasn’t his usual kind; this one was smoky and sweet, like s’mores roasting over a campfire. He strode into the entry way as if he was on catwalk. Guess he’d gotten his confidence back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kelly primp her blonde bob when it hit me. I didn’t threaten her; she was jealous of my relationship with Andrew.

Andrew fiddled with his gold embossed cuff links. “I hate these things.”

Kelly stepped forward and helped him before I had a chance to offer. Her smile was coated in honey as her fingers worked the pin through the fabric.

“You look handsome tonight, Andrew,” Kelly praised. “ I love your suit jacket.”

“And you look beautiful as always.” Andrew winked which sent a rosy flush to heat her cheeks.

Matthew wiped his son’s nose, oblivious to his best friend and wife’s flirtation. His other children were amusing themselves. Based on my short experience in babysitting, it was exhausting raising kids. I couldn’t imagine being a full time mom to five of them. That was why I gave Kelly a free pass to flirt with Andrew. If you could see past the exhaustion that lined her face, she had an elegant beauty about her and didn’t need a stitch of makeup to highlight it.

His cuff links secure, Kelly straightened his tie then patted his cheek. “Perfect.”

There is a limit to how much harmless flirtation I can take, though. Sidling up to Andrew, my fingers threaded through his. Kelly’s gaze fell to our interlocked hands. Recognizing her place next to her husband, she turned on her heels. I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d won.

Matthew placed one of their little girls in Kelly’s arms. The little girl thrust her thumb into her mouth and rested her head against her mother’s chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed. An unexpected ache hit me in the stomach. A family of my own wasn’t something I wanted. Being in charge of a human life was terrifying and had a high amount risk attached. Kids learned from their parents, which meant you had to watch your every move. My mother didn’t and I grew up thinking it was normal to bounce from husband to husband. House to house. With that influence, I was afraid to think how my parenting skills, or lack thereof, would affect my children. Looking at Andrew though, it dawned on me what a great father he would be someday.

As if he read my thoughts, he squeezed my hand. “You rethinking that kid thing?”

I nervously laughed. “No, why?”

“Matthew’s kids are adorable, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Overhearing our conversation, Matthew spoke. “Don’t do it! Your freedom will be gone forever.”

Kelly bounced her daughter on her hip and nodded her agreement. However, the adoring smile that played on her lips as she smoothed down her daughter’s hair said she wouldn’t trade it in for the world. That same stupid ache flared. I needed to get away from these kids before my ovaries exploded.

“Is everybody ready to go?” I asked.

My question started the process of buttoning coats, finding keys, and finally getting out the door.

The party was in full swing when we arrived. A middle-aged woman with streaks of purple in her hair whisked Andrew away immediately, claiming his adoring fans were waiting to meet him. He rolled his eyes at me over his shoulder. Waiters made their rounds with caviar and champagne. I took advantage of both and wove through the crowds to a less crowded spot. I was dying to see the pieces of artwork Andrew completed mere days ago. However¸ where they were located in the expansive space eluded me. A younger couple stood before the painting featured on the inventory list. Their heads were mere inches from the canvas, whispering in short bursts. Eavesdropping, I slipped next to them and pretended to study the art.

“I can’t believe Andrew is actually here.”

“I know. Nobody has heard from him the past eight months.”

“I heard he moved to Montana and became a rancher.”

“My friend who is friends with his cousin said he joined a Mexican gambling ring.”

The rumors were so ridiculous, I giggled into my champagne, drawing stares from them. I moved on to an adjoining area of the art gallery. People packed the room like sardines in a can, which made it near impossible to see Andrew’s art. Standing on my tippy-toes, a bald shiny head blocked my view. Jesus, I knew Andrew was well known, however, I had no idea to what extent. Based on the couple’s gossip, I had to wonder if these people were drawn to his talent or Andrew’s mystique. Pulling a page from short people’s handbook, I used my elbows to make my way to the front. Glares were thrown, curses were muttered, and a drink was spilled. It worked though. I gawked in awe at a painting titled ‘Girl’ and my previous doubts at why these people were here diminished. Andrew wasn’t just talented. He was gifted. Bold strokes of yellow blended with orange created a fiery sunset that dipped into a clear blue ocean. A lone woman in a rowboat looked like a speck against the limitless water. She was drawn in charcoal and smudged around the corners as if she was about to drift away. Sadness poured out of the painting.

“What do you think it’s about?”

Turning my head, a man dressed in a navy suit stared at the painting with his hands clasped behind his back. He seemed familiar.

“Do I know you?” I asked.

He glanced at me and a chill ran down my spine. His eyes were the color of soot. “I thought you might, but let me reintroduce myself.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Nigel.”

The last thing I wanted to do was shake his hand. I felt like if I did, I would be making a deal with the devil. Ignoring his gesture, my gaze wandered the room, searching for Andrew.

“Your boyfriend is on the patio,” Nigel said. “He can’t always protect you.”

“What does that mean?”

An ugly smirk stretched his thin lips. “So naïve you are.”

“Whatever.”

I turned to leave, but people on all sides blocked my exit. Shit. I didn’t want to stand next to this creepy guy longer than I had to. Nigel looked as if was enjoying my plight.

He casually sipped his champagne and eyed me over the rim. “Your mother would be disappointed in you, H.”

My body jerked as if an electric wire struck me. Nobody else called me that nickname except my mother. Who was Nigel really? Angered at being cornered, my hand lashed out and aimed for the champagne glass. He grabbed my wrist mid-air, his fingernails digging into my skin.

“How dare you show up here, whoever you are,” I whispered ferociously.

“You really don’t remember me?”

My lips curled. “What can I say? Your face isn’t memorable.”

Instead of showing anger, Nigel broke into a gap-toothed smile and dropped my wrist. It was then the missing puzzle piece snapped into place. Nigel, otherwise known as Gums, used to be Big Ted’s right hand man until he was arrested and sent to prison. I hadn’t seen him in almost ten years. His complexion had hardened, but those cold merciless eyes remained the same.

“I love how feisty you are,” Nigel purred as he leered at me. “And those boobs you have grown into aren’t so bad either.”

Disgust crawled over my skin as I slapped my hands over my chest. “You always have been quite the pervert, Gums.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t. Now let me guess why you’re here.”

Nigel reached into his pocket, pulling out a small envelope. “I’m not here to play guessing games with you, sweetheart. What we want is pretty cut and dry.”

Big Ted had the tenacity to stick one of his goons on me after he torched my apartment. He was lucky nobody died or else I wouldn’t be standing here talking calmly to Nigel. Blood would be splattered across Andrew’s painting, ruining his art show.

“Tell Big Ted it was the wrong move to set my apartment on fire.” I looked around and lowered my voice. “He is fucking with the wrong girl.”

Confusion flashed across his face. “What fire?”

“I thought we weren’t playing games.”

Nigel blinked at me as if he had no clue what I was talking about. Was it really a case of bad luck and faulty wiring? Jesus, if so then I needed to break about ten wishbones and hope my luck improved.

Nigel rubbed the back of his neck. “That sucks, girl. My apartment once burned to the ground. Of course it was my own doing, fell asleep smoking a cigarette. Almost didn’t get out alive.”

Getting sympathy from a convicted conman named Gums wasn’t very soothing. I changed the subject. “What’s with the envelope?”

“Oh, right.” He shoved it into my hands. “Big Ted says you have twenty-four hours. You can drop off the money at his house eleven sharp tomorrow morning.”

There was a threat attached to the end of that sentence. Nigel blended into the crowd before I could ask what additional debauchery Big Ted had up his sleeve. My finger ripped open the envelope. Inside was a used heroin needle. My pulsed raced in my ears and the crowd dimmed to a low buzz. The threat became clear—twenty-four hours until Sumiko ended up dead the same way my mother did—by overdose.

My favorite fairy tale as a child was the one about how my mom and dad met. My mom would turn off the lights, sit at the end of my bed and weave a story fraught with romance. Back then her melodic voice was as clear as a bell. I would lay in bed entranced, hanging onto her every word. I can still recount the story verbatim.

It was a scorching August day and my mom was working at the convenience store as a cashier. She was trying to save up enough money to leave Dayton, Ohio for New York. She dreamed of becoming a Rockette even though her mama told her she danced like a donkey. No amount of criticism would stop my mom; she had stars in her eyes. Ringing up an order, the bell tinged over the door. She glanced up and saw a man who looked like he belonged in an old western. Dirt dusted his hair, cowboy boots decorated his feet, and his emerald green eyes twinkled with mischief. My mom knew in that moment she had to have him. Call lust, call it love, whatever it was knocked her sideways. The cowboy perused the aisles, settling on a Twinkie and a packet of corn nuggets. He dumped his haul on the counter.

“Hot day out there, huh?” he drawled.

“Yeah, it’s suppose to reach hundred degrees today.”

“Your the only woman I have met who makes the heat look good.”

My mom laughed as she rang up his order. “Is that so?”

The cowboy watched a bead of sweat travel from the hollow of her throat to the v of her cleavage. Aware of his interest, she caught his eye and blushed.

“That will be three dollars and five cents,” my mom said.

He slid the money across the counter and winked. “Keep the change.”

Before, my mom had a chance to utter another word; he strolled out of the convenience store. Dejected, she glanced down and saw his number written on the five-dollar bill.

The ending was the part I hated because that was when my mom reminded me of how nine months later I was born and her dream had died. Of course if my dad had worn a condom and they didn’t act like horny teenagers, an unwanted pregnancy could have been avoided. As far as fairy tales went, my mom’s was short-lived with the moral of the story being the definition of Sex Education 101. Nonetheless, it was the only shred of evidence I had my dad existed. Throughout my life, I always wondered if my other family was somewhere out there looking for me. If they were caring, salt of the earth folk who had Sunday dinners of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. If so, would they welcome me with open arms and fold me into their daily routine? Leaving behind a city filled with my mother’s mistakes for the wide-open air of the country.

I threw the envelope into the trashcan and stepped outside. Sitting on the curb, I felt overwhelmed by my sister’s fate resting on my shoulders, angry with my mother for leaving this mess for me to deal with, and furious for letting it overshadow Andrew’s big night. For once, I wished the curveballs would stop getting hurled at me. My elbows rested on my knees, then switched to a more lady like position. Otherwise, the cars driving past would get a view reserved for Andrew. I needed five minutes to gather my thoughts before I ventured back into the party. A light rain drizzled on my bare shoulders.

“Hey, what are you doing outside?” Andrew opened an umbrella over our heads and stretched his legs out next to mine. “I have been looking for you.”

“Sorry I….” My sentence broke off as my mind whirled.

He peered closer at my face and whatever he saw sparked concern. “Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Do ghosts have criminal records and nicknames like Gums, because if so then yes I did.”

“Explain.”

I rubbed the chill from my arms, which prompted Andrew to drape his jacket around my body. Curling tight into the warmth, my mouth opened and the story spilled forth. “Big Ted’s goon paid me a visit tonight. He brought an envelope that contained an used heroin needle and the message I had twenty-four hours left to pay.”

“What does the heroin needle signify?”

“It’s a threat. If I don’t pay, Sumiko will end up dead the same way as my mother.”

“Overdose?”

“Yeah.”

Andrew’s breath hung like a white cloud in the frigid air. He scrubbed his face with his hands and cursed. “Somebody should stick a needle in Big Ted’s arm and do the world a favor.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Huddling closer to me, I wrapped the jacket around both of us. His presence slowed my heart rate to a normal level. Without Andrew, this situation would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“One second.” He lifted himself off the curb and patted his pockets. He made an a-ha noise when he found what he was looking for, a checkbook. “Is there a pen in my jacket pocket?”

There was. Handing it to him, he sat back down on the curb. Pen poised over a fresh check, he looked at me. “How much do you owe?”

“This isn’t your responsibility, Andrew. I’ll figure out a way to pay back the debt without your money.”

“Yeah, how?” He sighed. “Look I have done it your way. I haven’t called the cops and reported Big Ted for assault or battery but things have gone on long enough. Your sister, your only family, might die tomorrow because of a stupid mental block you have about taking money. There are no strings attached. I don’t think of you as a project and I certainly don’t view you as weak. Please, for once in your life, lean on somebody else for a change and let me fix this.”

Although it went against the very essence of who I was, my brain screamed at me to accept Andrew’s offer. I had no other options. “Fine. I owe seven hundred dollars, but I’ll find a way to pay back every penny of that money.”

Visible relief reflected in his gaze. “Yeah, whatever, that’s fine.”

He quickly scribbled the sum and handed me the check. I tucked it into my wallet for safekeeping.

“Do you want to come back inside?” Andrew wondered.

Big Ted had ruined whatever happy vibes I had by sticking Gums on me. However, I wouldn’t let him completely destroy Andrew’s show.

“Sure, I would love to,” I said.

“Good. There is something I wanted to show you.”

He hauled me to my feet and didn’t let go of my hand as we walked into the art gallery. The crowd had thinned since my brief departure.

Andrew gestured to the space around us. “This show has been a compilation of six months of blood, sweat, and tear—yet there are two pieces of artwork I started once we met.”

It sounded as if he wanted me to guess. “Andrew if you don’t want to stand here until we are old and gray, I suggest you tell me.”

Grinning, he led me to the canvas I saw earlier when Gums cornered me. My gaze swung from Andrew back to the painting.

“I don’t understand.”

“The day we met at the coffee shop, I ran home and stayed up till four a.m., painting the girl with the troubled eyes.” He pointed to a streak of purple on the horizon. “That’s how much you let your happiness show, only enough to know that it existed.”

Before I could process, he tugged me to the next painting, broken into three separate canvases.

“It’s called a triptych,” he explained.

Unlike the previous painting, orange, pink and yellow streaked the canvas in parallel lines. Flecks of gold bended the light.

“This was painted two days ago,” Glancing over at me, Andrew’s eyes shined with warmth. “This is your soul, the soul that I see when I look at you now.”

My hand flew to my mouth in disbelief. “No.”

Every tragedy I’d gone through, every moment that had threatened to tear me apart was worth it because it all led to Andrew. A man who saw the beauty inside me when I couldn’t.