Other Side of Beautiful (A Beautifully Disturbed #1) (23 page)

Chapter 48

Elle

The lightest of knocks brings my focus back to the world around me, and I realize both Ben and I must have dozed off. He lies sleeping beside me under the comforter that I don’t remember wearing before, chest rising and falling peacefully. I slide out from his arm, pausing to drape his T-shirt over myself. When I open the door, Sabrina’s broad, ear to ear smile greets me. “So, hopefully you aren’t moving?” she asks. Her giggling is infectious, spreading airborne to fill my lungs as well.

“No. You all are stuck with me.” How could I not see it before? I used to assume Kelly was my best friend because she was always around. But it had always been me doing something for her. What could I do for Kelly? What did she need from me? Sabrina, on the other hand, has always been there for me. Unconditionally. “I’m so sorry, Bri.” Now I know, and I need to make sure she knows, so I lunge, hugging her with all the force of a best friend. She hugs back. “Why didn’t you kick me in the shin? Yell at me to pull my head out of my ass? Something?”

“Because that’s not how it works. Besides, Ben told me a long time ago…for someone so smart, you’re sure a slow learner.”

“He said that, huh?” She nods. “Well I’m working on that.”

“No rush, babe.” I feel his heat, his mere presence behind me. I turn to Ben leaning in the doorway, arm stretched above his head holding onto the frame wearing only his cargo shorts, hair mussed like fingers had raked though it. My fingers. He wraps his arms, circling my waist, pulling my back securely against him kissing my neck. My cheeks light on fire. From his touch. From the show we are putting on for our friends.

“Col’s here,” Sabrina interrupts. “He and Kip. That’s why I knocked. They want to know how, well, how you both are doing. I uh, could go report for you…” She begins to laugh at us again.

“It’s cool. C’mon, Elle.” Ben leads me by the hand into the living room where Collin, Kip, and Errol sit chatting on the couch. Collin looks up when we enter, moving his eyes over the both of us. He grins. Errol grins. Kip grins. And I don’t even need to look at Sabrina to know she’s still grinning.

“Sweetheart, you look thoroughly fucked.” I don’t even know how to respond to that. He’s sitting on the sofa holding Kip, and they’re all still watching me like I’m the sideshow freak. “‘Bout damn time,” he says. “You’ve kept our boy waiting far too long. Judging from your appearance, he let you know it too…over and over again.”

“Oh my god, Collin!” I smooth my hand along my hair, becoming overly conscious of my nakedness underneath Ben’s shirt. “I’m just gonna…” I thumb back toward the room.

“Need any help with that?” Ben’s eyebrow shoots up suggestively.

“
No!
I mean, yes, but…” My eyes dart around the room, stopping briefly at each of our friends.

“It’s all right,” Sabrina teases. “Not like we didn’t know what was up in there.”

And that’s my cue. I slide back inside the room, securing the door behind me and stop to take in a few calming breaths before finding my undergarments that we managed to scatter to opposite walls, neither even in reaching distance from the bed. The sound of the door snapping shut catches my attention. I turn to Ben standing with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m just not used to…to people knowing my business.”

He steps closer. “Do you know how sexy you look in my shirt?” Oh, hello trouble. And then there is no space left between us. He lifts me off the floor, my legs wrapping around his waist. His lips crash against mine, desperately wanting, desire infused kisses. My hand gropes for his zipper, feeling his hardness press against me with only that veil of fabric separating us. He does things to my body. The moan that escapes triggers his growl. Then he presses inside me, working me up against the wall, working me good, grinding and grinding.

“I’m…not…” Breathless, every word struggles from my lips. “On…anything.” My eyes flutter closed as I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades. He keeps working me, grinding and grinding some more.

“We should…probably remedy that,” he breathes out just as heavily.

“Probably
Should! Oh God! Oh God
…
Ben!
Yes,
yes,
yes
…
oh yes
…” My hands shoot from his back to pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. His lungs fill faster and faster. Fast and shallow. He’s close too. Then I feel the rush and he collapses against me, the wall and his body weight, holding me up. What was that? I mean, I know what it was but—“A screamer? You turned me into a screamer?” His nose and his smile trace the column of my neck.

“I fucking love you, Dinninger.”

I kiss his forehead before shoving him off. “I have to take a shower. You have to run through the pharmacy. We need an alternate plan, if you get my meaning.” I wink at him. “Seeing as we neglected to cover all our bases.”

By the time Ben arrives back from the pharmacy, I’ve showered and dressed. Bri managed to pull me from the room somehow. Since realizing while picking out my clothing that all my friends had heard me in there screaming my boyfriend’s name. So I could never face them again. Who does that? Me apparently. But she lured me out by promising that the next time she and Errol had sex she’d be extra loud so we’d be even. I figure that’s the mark of true friendship. We get some pretty interesting looks from Errol and Collin. Kip doesn’t even pretend, laughing and shaking his head at us. Ben hands me the bag, kissing my cheek, spilling onto the cushion next to me on the sectional. Collin eyes him, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“What?” Ben asks.

“Exactly. As in what the hell did you do to get her to scream like that? I’ve known you for too many years and that was something even for you.”

“Benton needs to teach a class,” Errol jokes.

“Hell yah he does. I’d make you sign up.” Sabrina winks at me, elbowing Errol.
Thank
you
, I mouth.

“Jealousy won’t get you anywhere, boys.” Ben reaches over, patting my leg. “The decibels we’ll be breaking next time will have the neighbors pounding on the door.”

“Okay,” I say, standing. “I have to go take care of this.” I hold the bag up. “Then I need to eat. I’m starving.”

***

Sitting hidden in the corner of ‘our booth’ at The Brew, my little corner of the globe finally feels right—aligned—again when Kip looks up from his coffee. He pulls me onto his lap and squeezes gently. “I’m so damn glad you’re back,” he says. Then he puts a sweet little peck on my cheek, releasing me to scoot back over onto the seat. “Bout freaking time. Do you know how badly we’ve missed you?”

“I missed you all too. But I’m here now. And that’s what counts.”

“I have to thank you.” He leans, resting his head against Collin. I know what he’s thanking me for. We’re finally getting our HEAs.

“Glad to be of service.”

“Speaking of service, our Benton
still
has a happy face. Thank you for giving that to him.” Collin looks to me, winking.

“Oh my god! Is that all you people think about? Maybe they want to know what happened too.” I point to the group of girls sitting at the next table over from ours. So I stand up, in earshot of the surrounding three tables. “Could I have your attention please?” Three surrounding tables look at me. “I, Elle Dinninger, did allow Benton Hayes to perform unspeakable acts of debauchery on me today. Three times. And yes, the man has skills. That is all.” They, my friends, have never laughed so hard as long as I’ve known them. Errol and Sabrina prop each other up. Kip drops his head to the table trying to control it. Collin wipes tears from his eyes. But Benton, Benton smiles at me. His sparkling eyes sway and swell active as tide pools, telling volumes. The other tables look at me with confusion. “Now, I will take my leave to the ladies and try to recover a smidgen of my dignity.” Of course the sounds of their laughter follows me.

Water splashed on my face, I lean against the sink, slowly patting dry with a paper towel to give them enough time to calm down before I go back out there.

So what I need to know now is who left the door open? Who let the devil in? Because as I walk back to our table, the devil appears. The devil appears looking exactly like my sister. My sister. My sister. Why? Why here? Why now?

“Does anyone here know Elly Dinninger?” I hear the devil’s voice rise over the volume of the packed coffee house.

“Elle!” My friends cheer with coffee cups raised. She moves as gracefully as the serpent that she is over to the only people in the world I care about.

“How do you know Elle?” Ben asks.

“She’s my sister.”

“Oh,” is all he replies. He knows. Our relationship is tenuous at best, and I don’t think we’ve yet to reach best.

“Dinah,” I say, stepping up behind her. “What do you want?”

“Mom sent me. She’s pretty upset to have gotten another call.”

“Cricket’s moods aren’t my concern anymore. Go home—
please
.”

“Elly here,” she completely ignores me, “is prone to episodes.”

I try to laugh it off, but my laugh comes out sounding…forced, hallow, desperate. “Please, Dinah,” I beg. “Please don’t. Just don’t do this to me. You can have her all to yourself—pretend I don’t exist.” Panic starts to rise in my throat.

A smug smile spreads across her lips. “It’s a rather entertaining story.”

“We don’t want to hear it,” Ben says back to her. But she ignores him too.

“Has she ever told you about it? How I found her?”

“Dinah—please stop!” White-hot tears of anger and disgust—at her and at me—splash down over my red, splotchy cheeks. I want to lunge at her. I want to beat her. I want to run. But I can’t do any of those things. Damage control. Damage control. The laughing didn’t work and I can’t stop her, from humiliating me, from devastating my friends, from revisiting every grisly detail.

“Her apartment, over the garage, well it’s completely black inside. She’d skipped three days of school.” The surrounding tables lap up every word, those surrounding tables, the ones who had laughed with me before. “The place smelled of feces. There was an entire kitchen’s worth of food wrappers scattered across the floor. When I found her, Miss Elly was naked in the bathtub covered in vomit. She’d gorged herself to the point of vomiting. There was blood everywhere. My sister’s a freak…her thighs are all cut up to hell because she tried to perform her own liposuction. Did she tell you that? It’s why no guys ever want to sleep with her…because she’s so revolting.”

“Just get the fuck out of here.” Benton’s words don’t match his tone, too calm, and I can’t tell what is going on in his head. Mad at me? Mad at her?

“Oh, I’m not finished. Did she tell you the only man to ever sleep with her she had to whore herself out to? He didn’t want her after that. She was so bad he had to let the whole school know. And she ended up naked on the internet. Cost my mother so much money to get that video taken down. It’s why she did it. You should have read the comments.”

My friends’ stricken faces tell me everything. They tell me that I’ve been shoved to the outside again. They tell me it doesn’t matter that only ten minutes ago they were happy to have me back. They tell me I’ll never fit in anywhere so long as Cricket and Dinah can find me. And finally, finally my goddamned feet decide to move. And I run. For the first time in how long, I’m not even able to cry. Not able to start the tears and not able to stop my feet. I have to keep going. I have to keep going. And I head back to the apartment.

Chapter 49

Elle

Once again the conscious blackout hits, and hits hard with me tearing through the cupboards of Errol and Sabrina’s kitchen. I fall to my knees, ripping open packages—shoveling everything into my mouth—shoveling and shoveling until I gag and puke and puke some more. I wipe my chin. I am ugly. I’m ugly and have to change the ugliness. It doesn’t matter how. I just have to change the ugliness.

The trail of puke and food wrappers follows me into their bathroom. I fumble through the medicine cabinet pulling everything down, letting everything fall into the sink until I’m holding Errol’s razor.

Errol’s razor.

Errol’s razor.

Errol’s
razor.

And start hacking at the scarred flesh of my thighs, right through my jeans.
Hacking, Errol’s razor…
The fabric frays first, but eventually the red starts to seep through. Deep red seeps through. And if I can just keep cutting I can change the ugliness. I can change the ugliness.
Change the ugly hacking hacking Errol’s razor…

“Elle, fuck! What are you doing?” I have to tune him out.

Change the ugly change the ugly…
“Go away…just go away.” He tries to shake my shoulders but I swat him back. I have to swat him back.
Change the ugly…

“I’m not gonna let you—”

“I have to change the ugly, Ben! I have to change the ugly.” Damn him for showing up here. Now he dives at me, dives to my side, wrangling my arms, wrestling the razor from my clenched hand.

“Babe, don’t—don’t do this to yourself.” He can’t cry. It’s not his turn. But he does, his tears splash down, mixing with red seeping through my jeans. And he shakes me, shaking and shaking me. “You gonna let your sister get to you?” She already has. Can’t he see she already has? His angry sobs drown me, and I slump forward.

“I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak. You are
not
weak.” Ben cradles me in his arms, putting pressure on the cuts with a towel grabbed off the bar on the wall, rocking us back and forth, back and forth, trying to calm me down, and trying to calm himself down. “You’re smart and you’re wonderful…and you’re beautiful and you’re wonderful…and you’re wonderful. Please don’t do this, please.” Snot bubbles and red-rimmed eyes are bad enough. His face contorted. But when his voice cracks, my soul cracks. “Do you know why I call you Brontë?”

“Just go away.”

“I won’t go away. Answer me, do you know why I call you Brontë?”

“Because I always carried around
Jane Eyre
.”

“No. I started calling you Brontë not because you carried that book around, but because she wrote a story about a woman who never gave up. Jane Eyre faced hardship after hardship and never gave up. You are a writer too, Elle. And your story is about a woman who never gives up. Despite all the shit you’ve been through, you keep going.

“I will not leave you. I will never leave you.
Shit, Elle
…I love you. But I can’t fix this for you, you have to fix this. You have to want to fix this. I’ll be here for you, but you have to want to be fixed.” And then Ben does the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. He pulls his phone from his pocket dialing 911, and then he hands the phone to me.

***

Sirens and medics and gurneys, they speed around me, Ben holds my hand. Admission, stiches, and pain shots, Ben holds my hand. When the doctors talk to us, when I agree to get help, and when I sign the papers committing myself to get that help, Ben holds my hand.

***

We’ll be separated for a time. No visitors while I start my treatments, but he assures me the first day he’s allowed to come visit, he’ll be with me again. And right up until he has to leave me, Ben holds my hand.