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Authors: Christine Zolendz

Brutally Beautiful (13 page)

BOOK: Brutally Beautiful
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Yeah, I was going to follow her.  Staying away from her was not an option.  I would have to staple myself to the damn seat to stop myself from running after her.

Tearing out of the lot, I trailed them for a few miles, hiding myself behind a few other cars.

Fran dropped her off at a grocery store.  Psycho me followed her in.

I hid in aisle five, grabbing a box of Band-Aids and a giant box of double stuffed Oreos; she got coffee.  She caught me near the cash registers when a group of local elderly jackasses nodded my way and started grunting loudly about the
hermit being out of his lair

“Oh my goodness, is that
him
?” One ancient fossil hissed.  “Dear God, it’s the Devil himself!”  To add to the disgust, she made the sign of the cross over herself.  That made me laugh.  Out loud.

The mother next to her, actually covered her daughter’s eyes from looking at me.  “Don’t look at him, Becca. Just ignore him and he’ll go away.”

“Is he really the devil, Mom?  But, he was holding a bag of cookies!”

Goddamn small town bullshit.  I growled at them and bared my teeth; I mean I might as well let them believe all the shit that’s said about me, right?  “The cookies are for all the monsters I keep in my basement,” I whispered and winked at the little girl.

Laughing, Lainey shoved me past the harrumphing townies.  Pulling me by my coat sleeve, she dragged me to the first aid aisle and loaded my basket with peroxide, gauze and other shit I didn’t need.  I stared at her as she looked thoughtfully at the items. “That should be enough to help you.”  Her thick dark lashes swept up and her green gaze met mine. The beginning of a small smile played on her lips and a faint blush covered her cheeks, “Stop making these people afraid of you. You’re just fanning the flames.  You’re no more the devil than I am Mickey Mouse.”

Glancing at the crowd of people still gawking at me, I blew them a kiss.  “Sorry.  Momentary lapse in judgment.”

Chuckling and shaking her head, she left me standing there staring after her, my eyes hungrily eating her swaying form. 

Jetting after her, I walked through the group of rubberneckers and loudly greeted them all a
devilish
good morning.  I promised myself to buy a pair of horns online for the next visit to town. Placing my basket near the cash register in the line behind Lainey, I watched as she bit back her laughter, paid for her coffee, then walked out of the store.

I threw a hundred dollar bill at the cashier and threw my shit in one of those irritating plastic bags that you could never find the freaking opening to, and have to lick your fingers and use friction and the
Jaws of Life
to open.  Telling the cashier to keep the change, I ran out of the store as Fran was driving down the road.

I followed them back to her trailer park and waited.  Exiting my car, hidden behind another trailer, I stood on the threshold of the woods that surrounded her little home.  Watching, transfixed, I could barely breathe, thinking that lanky bugger might have his lips on hers.  The thought tore me apart.  Then Fran walked out. Sweet relief flooded my body as she stood by the door and waved to him.  No kiss goodbye.  When his car was out of view, she leaned the back of her head on the doorframe and dragged her hands over her face.  Within seconds, she let her hands fall limply to her sides and she looked out into the shadows of the trees.  She looked as lost as I did.  I blew breath into my hands, trying to find warmth, and watching her slowly close the door, robbing me of my view.

Convincing myself it wouldn’t be a good idea to knock on her door, and would probably creep the hell out of her, I trailed back through the woods to the place I hid my truck and drove back to my house. 

It was the first time, except for that pompous awards dinner, that I had been out in the daytime for that long in months.  I drove home in a daze. 
Fucking bloody hell, welcome to the world of crazy
. I had lost all control.

I was well aware that my behavior was stalker-like and beyond inappropriate, yet I could not demonstrate a reason to stop.  I wanted to know all about her, everything she did; everything she was.  I sat in my den with none of the lights on, staring into the dimness of the room, scrutinizing my thoughts.  Trying desperately to find order in the jumbled chaos of my mind.

I wanted to
pursue
her, make her laugh again, and get to know her. 

My brain was well aware that she would undoubtedly have no intention of returning any attention to me after the way I treated her.

Was her skin as soft as I wrote it to be?

Showering and cleaning my hand was a chore, as my delusional mind had me being a normal undamaged man, ready and willing for a relationship with this person I truly knew nothing about.  I tried to focus on the facts. I tried to concentrate on the reality that I was not in a healthy place to offer even the remotest of friendships with her.  Was I truly this sick and twisted inside?  Was I really trying to talk myself into believing I could trust and offer something other than my written words and ideas to someone?

When dusk softly overshadowed the sky, my hand was neatly bandaged and I was dressed impeccably.  Swallowing the hard knot in my throat, I walked out of my house and climbed into my truck.  All my sick tangled thoughts of the day came to one conclusion: I just wanted to get to know Lainey.  Let her make her own choices about me, because my mind would not rest until I understood the strange spell she had over me and why since the day I’d met her, I had not suffered one uncontrollable flashback. 

Driving to my brother’s bar, I cringed at facing my actions.  How will she view me? 
Let’s get my mind clear
.  First, I belittled and degraded her.  Terrific beginning.  Second, I did more of the same shit, but I added some staring and gawking at her lips over a dinner party.  I was pretty close to humping her leg that night, and everybody seemed aware of that fact.  Next, I was caught peeking into her window as she cleaned her house and performed a dance that I can’t even think about for fear of busting a nut where I sit.  Then came the kiss that I attacked her with, which was right after I criticized her yet again, because I was in total awe of her lips.  After that, I write two books, each with the main character based on her.  Lastly, I followed her; stalking the shit out of her. 

Fuuuck
, I’m twisted.

The thoughts about my behavior were even creepy
to me
.  By this time, my truck was idling in the parking lot of the bar and I decided just to go home. My infatuation with her was completely one-sided, unhealthy, and without a doubt, would end ugly. 

Before I could pull out, Fran’s car turned into the lot.

I blinked as his red taillights flickered through the darkness, and the parking brake light reflected against the bark of the trees surrounding the lot.   Slithering down in my seat, I could hear that wanker’s voice laughing loudly as he slammed the car door shut.  Straining my ears, I couldn’t hear anything from Lainey. I just watched as she quickly walked toward the bar, probably trying to get out of the frigid night air.  When she reached the door, she glanced questioningly towards my truck, then smiled, and slipped into the warmth of the bar.

She
smiled
?

For twenty-minutes, I listened to the heater fan as it warmed the air in my cab, sitting and contemplating what to do.  There was no talking myself out of going in.

She smiled at my truck.  So in I went.  Seemed like good logic at the time.

I slowly made my way over to my back table.  It was almost five, and there was a small crowd for a Thursday night, but my table was empty.  My table was always empty, even when
I
occupied it.

Lainey was behind the bar pouring a beer, when her eyes collided with mine.  They stayed on mine for so long that the beer overflowed the cup and spilled thick white foam over the edges and her fingers.  It made my body pulse with arousal.  Twisted, yeah?

Placing my case on the table, I slid out my laptop and opened it up.  My goal was to watch her and get some research down for my next book.  Keying in the Wi-Fi password, I checked my email and opened one from my editor. 

Kade,

These were impressive; I wouldn’t dream of changing a thing. Just scan through my notes and make any necessary corrections.

Gary

There were only three corrections for both books?  Usually Gary had more to say.  I quickly typed him a short email, explaining that I wanted to keep the manuscripts out of the publishing house, and self-publish.  I did this with my books every so often, especially if I wrote a book that wasn’t scheduled for publication, which these weren’t.  My publisher hated me for doing it, but I told them they could find another me if they wanted to place rules on the things I did.  Being somebody’s bitch was not in my nature; it went completely against my DNA makeup.

A soft clink of glass against the wood tabletop caused me to look up from my screen.  Delicate fingers slid a drink closer to me and a smooth voice asked, “How’s the hand?”  My lungs found trouble with the task of inhaling.

All my senses were heightened as soon as I looked up. I tried to ignore the overwhelming emotions, but it was of no use.  Spiced apples and cinnamons twirled in the air around me. Five shades of green danced in her eyes as my focused gaze caught hers and my chest just
surged

What the hell was that about?
  As I laced my fingers around the brandy, her fingers brushed gently against mine with the slightest touch of almost infinitesimal tremors.  “Just a little scratch,” I answered her hoarsely.

She slid her hands away from mine and pushed them deeply into the pockets of her apron.  Her cheeks started to flare with a deep blush. I tried, but couldn’t stop the slow smile it brought to my lips.  “I’m surprised you still want to be friends, after such an arsehole I’ve been towards you.”

“Friends?” She asked, composed, unsmiling.

“Yes.”

“Yep.  Just wait.  Our friendship bracelets are in the mail,” she said sarcastically.  “Please don’t mistake my being a naturally caring person for wanting to be friends.  Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“A smile?” I whispered.

“That’s not on the menu, is it?”  Calm.  Cool.  Emotionless.

“Fuck.” I took a pull from my brandy, letting the flavor smoothly fill my mouth and burn its fire down my throat. It didn’t quench my thirst though. I wanted a taste of the woman standing before me.  I laughed and looked down, shaking my head.  I cleared my throat, “So being friends is an impossibility?  You’d be missing out.”

“Yep.  I guess I will just have to live with never knowing how great a friend you could be.  It’ll be difficult, I’m sure.  But, with years of therapy and psychoanalysis, I bet I’ll be able to overcome the heartbreak of not getting to know you.”  Her eyes never left mine.  Curt, yet nice and emotionless.  She just completely handed me my own order of sublime indifference and I could have buried myself in it.  “Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you,” I said, and watched her walk away, smiling at the other customers and going on with her life, with not one ounce of effect from me.

All that night, I watched her work the floor, mesmerized.  She never let anyone touch her; it was as if she would melt away right before their hands went to touch her.  No one touched her but Bree.  Always keeping a distance from everyone like she was more comfortable with being alone than with other people.  She smiled politely and answered when asked questions, but there was
something
missing.  It was as if
she
was missing.  Every time my glass was empty, she would bring over another one, but I never caught her looking over at me.  I stayed there until closing.  I stayed there while she and Bree sat with that dolt Fran, and ate dinner after the bar closed.  My brother gave me strange looks, but I just flipped him the finger and ignored him.

I didn’t care how sick I looked.  I couldn’t stop myself; I didn’t want to look away from her. 

Lainey leaned against the back of her chair swirling a French fry around her plate drowning it in ketchup, but not eating a bite.  Very prim and proper, she sat back rigid and ladylike.  It made me see images of her on her knees in front of me, seeing how dirty I could get her to be.

Bree was laughing at something Fran had said, but Lainey wasn’t. She didn’t seem to be listening, not even looking at anyone around her, she just stared out across the bar.  Bree touched her hand to get her attention, but she just planted a robotic smile on her face that never reached her eyes.  Then she turned her attention back out across the bar again and her gaze collided with mine.  She didn’t look away.

Seconds.

Minutes
.

She
did not
look away. 

Staring at me and me staring at her, our eyes locked, fixed; lost in each other.

Bree interrupted our private moment by taking her plate into the back and walking through the view we had of each other.  It was as if someone cut off my oxygen.  As I sat there, practically gasping for breath, Lainey pushed herself away from the table, gathered her coat and belongings, and walked out the door not glancing back at me once. Fran was hot on her trail.

“What are you bloody doing, mate?” Dylan’s voice asked next to me.

“Drinking.  Writing.”

“You just eye-fucked that girl to death, Kade.  You need to stop whatever is going on in that mind of yours.”

“You just made it
so
much more tempting, brother,” I said, laughing.

“Bloody hell, Kade.  You’re laughing. 
You’re laughing?
  You’re barmy, brother.  I haven’t seen you laugh in…” He looked at the table I had been staring at for the last hour and realization dawned across his expression. 

Want to hear how deep my sickness runs?  I did it again the next day and the next.  Followed her and ended each night sitting at the same table watching her, delighted as hell a restraining order hadn’t arrived for me yet.

BOOK: Brutally Beautiful
5.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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