Eluded (4 page)

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Authors: Lyra Parish

Tags: #erotica, #suspense, #adult, #dark, #london, #organized crime, #dark romance

BOOK: Eluded
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I practically picked myself up
from the floor of the bookstore. I tightened my grip on my shopping
bag and threw the half-empty cup of coffee in the trash.

My mind continued to reel over his
name, which I never received.

On the way back to the flat, I
tried to gain control of myself and understand what had just
happened. I took my time walking back as I reevaluated my life. One
thing was certain, I wasn't happy with the same routine.

Everything seemed to crash down
around me. Everything that I thought was right, and that I wanted,
wasn't. Was it wrong to want to break the mold that I was forced
into? There were things I wanted in life and I didn't know exactly
what they were. I needed change, and I needed it before I
completely lost who I was.

I pulled the keys from my pocket
and took the stairs two at a time. Before I walked into the flat, I
knew that I had to speak with Henry about our future.

I would have to be a woman and do
what I should have done months ago . . . leave him.

LAUREN

Five

B
efore I entered, I
considered my options one last time. I knew that if I left him,
there would be no going back.

I could purchase a plane ticket
back to Galveston, be home by the end of next week, then maybe I
could move on, and forget this ever happened.
Yeah, right.
I
closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath before entering. Because
I was a creature of habit, I placed my keys on a hook next to the
door. I unpacked my supplies and ran my hand across the cover of
Pride and Prejudice
. The man in the bookstore poisoned my
thoughts. The look on his face when I told him my name . . . it was
too intense. Since he never responded with his, he made the whole
situation surreptitious.

The lights were dim throughout the
living area and kitchen. Before I slipped out of my flats,
something caught me off guard. There was a thigh high in the
hallway. I picked it up and held it in front of me and confusion
hit. It wasn't mine. Then an internal alarm sounded as I heard
muffled moans echoing from our bedroom. I tightened my grasp on the
hose and walked to the end of the hall. More moans escaped and I
stopped to listen more closely.

Was this really happening? Was I
stuck in a state of lucid dreaming?

No. Rage engulfed me.

I stormed into the bedroom and saw
a dark-haired woman fucking my fiancé, riding him like a cowgirl.
She turned and looked at me, then rolled off of him. They grabbed
the blanket to cover their naked, sweaty bodies. I couldn't even
speak from the shock of it all.

"Lauren," Henry cried out, but I
didn’t stay.

"Lauren, baby. Please." He ran
into the living room and somehow had enough time to slip on his
boxers.

"I can explain this," he said and
grabbed my hand.

"Don’t you fucking touch me." I
pushed him away. We had never been physically abusive with one
another, we had never pushed or struck or even play wrestled. Just
the thought of his hands on me in any sense disgusted me now. I
walked past him and rushed into the bedroom where the half-naked
bimbo stood, trying to dress. Then recognition set in. Dark hair,
tan skin, and red lips. I met her at the annual company meet last
year after she and Henry presented their expansion project to the
Board of Directors. I thought back to the way he smiled at her and
placed his hand on her shoulder as he introduced us that night.
Maria, she had said with a slight Spanish accent.
Maria, Henry's
business partner.
I should have noticed the way she looked at
my fiancé that night.

Maria refused to make eye contact,
which was good, because I didn't know if I would be able to hold
back my indignation. I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and
began packing the clothes that I had hung a few days prior. Instead
of taking my time and neatly folding my clothes, I shoved them
inside. I looked at the bed where Henry and I slept each night and
wondered how long this had been going on. Months? Years? I felt
sick to my stomach. Of course he seemed content with our
relationship, because he had another woman. How naïve of me to
think everything was as perfect as he made it seem. I was mad at
myself for staying on the same monotonous path, and for not doing
what my intuition demanded I do: leave.

I grabbed my makeup from the
bathroom, an extra pair of shoes, and zipped up the
almost-overflowing suitcase. The skank opened her mouth to talk,
and I narrowed my eyes at her. She backed away and stared at an
invisible spot on the floor. I slammed the bedroom door behind me.
I stormed to the kitchen, grabbed my purchases from the bookstore,
and swung my laptop bag over my shoulder.

"Lauren, baby. Please don't leave.
We can work this out. We can work through this. I
promise."

"What you've done is
unforgiveable." I turned to him. I didn’t yell, which was enough to
scare me. "You’ve done me a favor. You've given me exactly what I
wanted. A way out." And those were the last words I spoke before I
wheeled my suitcase out the door. I shouldn't have been so harsh. I
shouldn't have left him with those words because I really did love
him, but he deserved to feel the way I felt. He deserved to be
hurt.

My emotions were on the up and
down, and I wasn't sure how I should feel. Happy, because he did
what I couldn’t do? Or upset because I had been with someone who
was a lying, deceiving cheater. Cheating was one of the most
unforgiveable things he could have done.

Regret washed over me, and I
wished I had stayed in Galveston. Then relief visited because I
would be in Texas soon. I would be with my family and friends. Then
nervousness set in because I wasn't sure how to live
alone.

Today was the beginning of a new
me. I was a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. My
future was no longer filled with being a wife or mother. There was
no picket fence, or dog, or living the same day over and over
again. I would take risks. I would do the things that made me happy
and feel alive.

I slammed the door behind me and
decided to book a room at the hotel a few blocks away until I could
secure a flight back home. Check-in took no time. The room was
clean, but small and nothing special. I threw my bag on the bed,
sat, and stared at the whitewashed wall.

I just . . . I didn’t think he had
a cheating bone in his body. I trusted him with my life, secrets,
and fantasies. Out of respect for what we had, he should have given
me the common courtesy and left me, not allowed me to find him
fucking her.

Why couldn't he have just
communicated that he wasn't happy? Why pretend? I shook my head in
disbelief because we were both guilty. We pretended to make each
other happy, only he was more convincing. Without a doubt, I knew
Henry would do whatever I wanted. Maybe because he was doing who he
wanted. Maybe he was secretly waiting around for me to be the one
to fuck it up. I couldn't keep thinking it over. I had to
stop.

We were over. Wasn't that what I
wanted, anyway?

No, not like this.

I called Lindsey, and that was
when the tears began to fall. Everything I thought I knew, I
didn't.

"Lauren. What's wrong? What
happened? Are you okay?" Lindsey asked.

"Henry is a fucking
cheater."

"Wait. What?"

"Him and his business partner. I
found them in our bed."

Tears streamed down my face like
someone had turned on the faucet. When I looked in the mirror, long
streaks of mascara lined my cheeks.

"L. Honey. Listen. You had second
thoughts about your relationship, anyway. Maybe it was intuition
that something wasn't right? I know it hurts. I know it's not easy,
especially with you being so far away at the moment, but you know
what? Now you can come home. Stay a few days, see the city, and
then book your flight. When you get home, we will get pedicures and
massages, then eat a tub of cookies and cream."

I sniffed and wiped the tears
away. "You're right. It hasn't been right between us since he
started that project. No telling how long this has been going
on."

"Don't think about it," she
said.

We sat there in silence for a few
minutes.

"What time is it there?" she
asked.

I pulled the phone away from my
ear and looked. "It's three' o clock. What time is it
there?"

"It's nine in the morning. Are you
going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I think I'll take a shower
and grab some food." I sucked in another deep breath and exhaled
slowly.

"Alright. Well if you need me, I'm
only a phone call away. Okay? I love you," she said.

"Love you, too. Thank you. I'll be
home soon. I'll check flights once I get back."

We said our goodbyes; I set the
phone down on the bed and lay there for a moment.

I undressed, got in the shower,
and stood there, allowing the hot water to scald my skin. It
burned. It hurt, but it made me feel alive. Everything seemed to
happen too fast, and I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. The
man I’d loved at one time wasn't the man I saw today fucking Maria.
That bastard. I didn't realize that something like this would make
me feel so empty, but I supposed that would happen after being with
someone for over seven years.

I stepped out of the shower and
dried my body, then slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt
that showed the right amount of cleavage. After I tucked my hair
behind my ears, I applied mascara and pressed my ruby lips
together. I looked down at my hand, removed the diamond from my
finger, and placed it in a little pocket inside my suitcase.
Everything had come full circle, and I felt like the chains had
been cut.
Released.

After running my fingers through
my hair one last time, I made my way out of the hotel and walked
down the street. A small sandwich shop on the corner caught my
attention, and I stepped inside. The smells of freshly baked bread
filled the room, and my mouth watered. I wanted to eat it all, but
I settled for a sandwich and water. I sat at one of the tables
close the windows. The reflection that looked back was not
me.

"Almost didn’t recognize you with
your hair down," a voice said.

I turned and peered into the same
stranger's eyes from the bookstore as he sat down in front of me. I
picked up the bottle of water, took a sip, and just stared at
him.

"I find it interesting that I keep
running into you," he said.

I swallowed. "I suppose that means
you should tell me your name."

Just as before, he narrowed his
eyes at me, and then looked down at my hands. "Where has your
pretty ring gone?" he asked, then took a sip of his
drink.

When I didn't answer, he lifted an
eyebrow. I cleared my throat and swallowed. His eyes never left
me.

"I’m not engaged anymore. He's a
cheater."

He gulped down the remaining
liquid, then set his empty glass down. "Fair enough."

Moments passed and I finished the
last few bites of my sandwich.

"There is something about you"—he
narrowed his eyes—"something about you that I want."

My heart hammered in my chest, and
I thought it might stop. A shot of adrenaline rushed through me,
and I wasn't sure if it was his words or the look on his face that
caused that reaction. Again I had no words, but that didn't stop
him from continuing. I felt like I was playing a game of cat and
mouse, and I was the hunted.

"Why are you so nervous? Are you
afraid?" he asked, his accent thick and pure sex.

I had a feeling he wanted me to
say yes, and though the internal alarms sounded, I didn't falter.
"Should I be?" I sipped the water and set it down on the
table.

"Truthfully? Yes. If you were
smart, you'd leave right this moment and go straight home. I'm like
the moon in a sense. I go through phases and—"

I leaned forward just a little,
and he stopped talking then gave a sly smile.

"I have a dark side," he
finished.

His words absorbed me like a
forest fire, all-encompassing and suffocating, but I didn't move. I
swallowed hard and a chuckle escaped from him. When he laughed, I
noticed small dimples in his cheeks. He looked down at his half
empty glass, and I admired his long eyelashes.

Who is this man, this beautiful
creature?

I looked out the window, and my
shyness took over. My cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't seem to
get control of my feelings.

"Do you want to get out of
here?"

I turned my head to him. "Only if
you tell me your name. Your real name. I don't want some made up
name just to appease me. I've been lied to enough
today."

"Tell me what defines you and I'll
think about it."

I thought about it for a few
minutes, and everything went back to being a wife and a mother, but
those things didn't necessarily define me. A simple question so
easily exposed how much I didn't know myself. Instead of sitting
silent, I said the first thing that came to me and hoped it was
good enough.

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