Ruined (A Dark Alpha Billionaire Romance) (14 page)

Today, I was meeting with a top executive at an edgy new fashion magazine who wanted my help planning their annual Christmas bash. I needed to get up and get ready because I was meeting her in Manhattan in the early afternoon.

Groaning, I pulled the warm comforter off me and placed my feet on the chilly wood floors. I quickly dashed into the bathroom and turned the shower handle so that steaming hot water cascaded down. Slipping out of my pajamas, I glanced in the mirror and noticed the bruises on my ass from my most recent romp with Blake.

We had been in his office on Friday discussing an ad campaign until late into the evening. At some point, we realized we were the only two people left in the office and that was when things got a little out of hand. We ran around the office trying to fuck against every desk and conference table. Blake had fucked me so hard that some of the desk’s hard edges had left long, dark bruises on my pale ass.

I smiled as I slipped under the hot water, reliving those hot scenes in my mind. Blake Harrison might still be a confusing man to love, but he sure knew how to fuck me. He could play my body like it was a well-tuned musical instrument, plucking each string until I exploded in waves around him. He was the master musician that every instrument longed for.

After my shower, I quickly dressed in my sharpest tailored blush Prada dress and taupe jacket with small ruffles at the hems. I was finally getting used to wearing designer clothes, although I was pretty sure I would never get rid of the sticker shock when I spied the price tags. Blake loved to spoil me with fancy outfits though, and I loved exploring new styles as my fashion sense evolved.

I grabbed a bagel from the kitchen, giving Jane a quick wave while she slowly sipped her coffee, and rushed out to where the driver was waiting for me by the front door. Blake had insisted that I take his personal car and driver since he wanted to be sure I would be safe and he would be working from his home office for the day.

“You sure look professional,” the wrinkled old driver greeted me as I rushed out the door, holding my heels in one hand and by purse and bagel in the other.

“Thanks! Sorry, I’m running late again.” I slid into the back seat and wiped the bits of gravel off my feet.

“No problem,” the driver replied with his usual, crinkly smile. He knew my habit of oversleeping and rushing out the door at the last moment.

As we drove the familiar roads into the city, I looked over the papers the client had sent me, chomped down on my warm, chewy bagel while trying to ignore the lack of cream cheese, and chatted with the driver about his plans for the day. He would be waiting in the city for my call, so his plan was to visit the Natural History Museum.

“Oh, that’s such a great idea! I would love to go there and to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I need to talk to Blake about a sightseeing trip.” I realized that I had only ever been to the city for business and hadn’t really had a chance to explore yet. Maybe Blake would give me a tour of his favorite places if I asked.

We pulled up to a skyscraper in the heart of the financial district and I quickly gathered my purse and rushed to make it on time to my meeting. I reached the lobby just two minutes before 2:00, and with a slow elevator ride I was still only a minute late to meet the executive.

A beautiful blonde woman in a strappy red dress and black stiletto boots covered in metal spikes met me with a big smile.

“Hi, you must be Grace. I’m Emilia. Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, returning her surprisingly strong handshake.

Emilia chatted away as she led me to a conference room table and showed me her ideas for a glamorous, extravagant holiday party. I helped her come up with a centralized theme and we worked through an outline of what would be done in the coming weeks. I promised to create some mock-ups and contact vendors before our next meeting.

I walked back out into the chilly Manhattan air and realized that the meeting had gone much more quickly than I had anticipated. I had informed Blake that I probably wouldn’t be home until later at night, but it was only early evening. I gave the driver a quick call and he was ready to go, so I decided to return home early and surprise Blake.

“You sure you don’t want me to call ahead and let him know you’ll be back early?” the driver asked me dubiously as we pulled down the small, rustic roads that led to the Harrison Estate.

“I would like to surprise him,” I responded, leaving out the fact that I might sneak up to my room and change into some sexy lingerie first.

We pulled into the Harrison Estate as the last rays of sunlight were fading on the horizon, bathing the mansion in their soft orange glow that was slowly fading to indigo. I instructed the driver to pull around to the side entrance so that Blake wouldn’t see me coming.

The antique lamps flickered in the hallway as I silently slipped up the stairs, winding my way through the less-traveled halls to reach my bedroom. As I approached the back stairwell, I heard a strange wailing sound, punctuated by the sound of breaking glass echoing through the otherwise silent mansion.

I rushed towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the far end of the hallway, near Blake’s office. I turned the corner and heard a loud whacking sound coming from inside his office.

“Blake?” I called out as I pushed the door open.

It was dark, except for a small light from the fireplace, which flickered with the last dying embers. I could make out a dark figure outlined against the faint, flickering orange glow by the fireplace. The figure was still for a moment, and then dropped something crumpled into the fire and moved swiftly towards me.

“Blake?” I repeated nervously as he drew close. The smell of harsh whiskey filled my nostrils as he swept towards me.

He pushed me hard against the wall, his strong hands holding my arms in place, then moving up to clutch at my throat.

I tried to cry out, to yell at him to stop, but the sound came out as a strangled gurgle under the pressure of his strong palm on my throat.

“You evil little devil,” he hissed in my ear, his words slurred clumsily together. “You took everything from me and you had the fucking nerve to say it was for God? What do you know of God? Why don’t I just send you to him now and see what he’s got to say about you?”

The hand on my throat snaked tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh. I gasped for breath, looking desperately for Blake’s face in the darkness. My vision grew blurry as my throat constricted. I knew I had to act before he killed me. In desperation, I kicked out blindly. I felt and heard the crack of my foot against his shinbone as the hand released from my throat.

Blake groaned and fell to the floor as I leaned against the wall and gasped for breath. I could see him rocking on the floor, but it was still too dark to make out his face, to see if he would come at me again.

“Blake, it’s me, Grace,” I croaked, rubbing at my throat. “You were hurting me. I had to stop you.”

I reached my hand across the wall until I felt the light switch and quickly pulled it up. The room illuminated, revealing Blake sitting on the floor and looking up at me in horror. My eyes swept over the room, taking in the open bottle of whiskey and the box of photographs spilling onto his desk.

I knelt down next to Blake, reaching my hand out tentatively to touch his arm. He recoiled from my touch, shrinking away from me with the same look of horror on his face.

“What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?” he cried out in an agonized voice as he stared down at his hands.

“It was an accident, Blake,” I tried to say soothingly, but I could hear the tremor of fear in my own voice.

“I almost killed you,” he continued in a stunned voice. “You were supposed to be out still. I…I was drinking and looking over these pictures and it was all coming back to me. I thought you were her. Something came over me. I would have killed you.”

“You would have stopped. You would never have killed me.” I realized the uncertainty in my voice as I spoke the words.
Would he have killed me?
“And either way, I’m fine. You didn’t kill me.” I smiled weakly at him, trying to reach out for his hand once more.

“Go!” he spat as he pulled further away, his face twisted in agony. “I’m not good for you. I will kill you, or at best, destroy your innocence and sweetness. This was always a bad idea. I’m ruined. I need you to leave.”

I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest as Blake pulled further away from me. I needed to show him that everything would still be fine. “I’m not leaving,” I said quietly. “I love you.”

“I don’t want your love. You are a child. A little country girl. Go home, Grace. Leave me. Now!” He screamed the words, spitting them at me like venom as his face twisted into a new mask of anger and hatred.

I turned and ran out of his office, flying through the halls until I reached my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I crumpled onto the floor, finally allowing my tears to flow freely down my cheeks as I wept with fear and sadness, for Blake Harrison and for myself. The tears flowed silently at first, but turned into low strangled sobs as I curled up on my bed and cried myself to exhaustion.

Chapter 11.

I woke up to a pounding headache and a sore neck. The sun pouring into my bedroom window was painfully bright, and at first I thought I must have had a terrible handover. Those first few seconds of wakefulness were blissful compared to the horrible memories that quickly came flooding back, crushing the air from my lungs all over again.

I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to the full-length mirror, twinging in pain as I moved my sore neck. I took a deep breath and turned to examine my reflection. I winced, noting the reddish purple bruises forming on my neck. The damage wasn’t too bad; it was something I could easily cover with makeup. The worst part was just my overall disheveled appearance. After an aspirin and a shower, I would feel much better.

Furiously, I combed my knotted hair in the warm, steamed-up bathroom, slowly working through the knots while I replayed the night’s scene in my head. Blake was clearly hurting, and perhaps it was my fault. I had been the one to dredge up those haunting memories by visiting Lily and looking into his past. But I couldn’t help but feel a tendril of fear constricting in my heart. I had never realized that Blake was capable of hurting me, even if it was fueled by alcohol and confusion.

I yanked at a stubborn knot, taking my anxiety out on my long hair as I impatiently worked the comb through the ends. By the time my hair was smooth, my scalp ached almost as much as my neck. I did feel better once I was clean and dressed in my new skinny Seven For All Mankind jeans and soft blue t-shirt. I quickly dabbed concealer on the bruises forming around my neck until I felt satisfied that I looked normal.

Not wanting to wake up Blake if he was still sleeping off the whiskey, I decided to head down to the kitchen for some brunch first. I padded down the hall in my cute Tory Burch ballet flats and followed the smell of coffee and bacon wafting from the kitchen. My stomach rumbled as I approached the platter of eggs and bacon laid out on the counter. I definitely needed coffee, but food was my first priority. I piled my plate with bacon, eggs, and toast and grabbed a fork, ready to dig in.

“Grace? You have a visitor, dear.” Jane’s soft, creaky old voice interrupted my first bite.

I quickly swallowed the mouthful, turning to the old woman in confusion. A visitor? She must be wrong. I met all the clients in the city and no one from my old life knew my new address.

“Who is it?” I asked her dubiously, as Jane approached with a concerned expression on her face.

“He says he is your boyfriend and that he travelled all night to see you. Should I send him away?”

“No, um, can you have him meet me in the parlor?”

I cursed under my breath as Jane turned and walked back out. Daniel had somehow found me. His timing was somehow both terrible and perfect. I was feeling vulnerable and alone, and the thought of having someone who knew me, whom I could talk to, was incredibly tempting.

But I really needed to talk to Blake and work through the events of the night before. I wanted him to know I didn’t blame him, but also get some kind of reassurance that he would never attack me like that again. There was something I needed to tell him. Something I had never told anyone, but now wanted more than anything to tell him. He had opened up completely to me—both in his vulnerability and his dangerous instability—and I had to find out if I could do the same. Could I finally have no secrets? Could I be my whole, honest self to another person, bared emotionally to Blake as I had been physically to him over and over?

But first, I needed to deal with Daniel. I gave one last regretful glance to my abandoned breakfast, then walked down the hallway to where, sure enough, Daniel was waiting for me in the parlor. We had never had the chance to discuss his betrayal and he deserved at least one final conversation.

“Gracie!” Daniel jumped up from the chair, where he was sitting nervously twisting his hands, and rushed towards me. “It is so good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“Daniel!” I stepped towards him in disbelief, unsure of how to react. I had to admit to myself that seeing his familiar face smiling at me was a comfort that I had missed more than I realized.

He took a step towards me and reached out his hand. “Come home, Gracie. We can work out any problems. The past is the past and I love you. Your family loves you. Come home.”

The tears came unbidden, streaming down my face as Daniel wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t sure whether I was crying out of happiness or sadness, but the emotions roiling and welling up inside me demanded release. I sobbed against Daniel’s chest, filled with memories brought on by the scent of his cheap cologne. Daniel was simple, and he loved the simple version of me. That was the easier version to love. Blake Harrison was confusing and complicated, but he loved the complicated me.

Maybe Daniel could love that version as well. I had never really opened up and given him the chance to love the deep, conflicted, and tortured version of Grace Martin. I was harboring a dark secret I hadn’t told anyone—was afraid to tell anyone. Maybe this was the chance to find out if my relationship with Daniel could grow, if he could accept me for who I really was while being the simple, sweet boy of my past.

“I would like to go home now for a while,” I finally managed to squeak out as my sobs subsided. “I just need to get my things and let my employer know.” The thought of telling Blake that I was leaving, especially after what he had done last night, filled me with utter dread.

“There’s no need. It has all been worked out. They will ship your stuff home and you can just come with me now.” Daniel took my hand in his and started to move towards the door.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I asked, pulling back on his hand until he turned back to look at me.

“Your employer called last night and said he thought you needed to go back home. We worked out all the details.” Daniel tugged my hand again. “Come on, the car is waiting for us. We can talk on the way home.”

I followed him, my feet moving mechanically as my mind spun circles. Blake had called Daniel last night. How did he know how to contact Daniel? Why was he sending me home without even saying goodbye? New tears sprung to my eyes as I realized that my lover, my mentor, the man who had started to mean everything to me, was throwing me away without a second glance. I had been so foolish to think I meant anything to him.

I could barely focus on the first part of our trip. My mind replayed my last moments with Blake in an endless loop, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong. Daniel, meanwhile, prattled on about what I’d missed in Mercy River, at college, and with my parents. I tuned out most of it as my mind reeled from the sudden, unexpected change that tore me from my new life. I figured that nothing much happened at home anyway, and there would be plenty of time to catch up later.

“Can we stop to eat?” I finally asked, interrupting Daniel in the middle of his description of the huge football victory that had everyone in Mercy River all riled up.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Daniel smiled broadly and gave my hand a squeeze. “Driver, can we pull over at the next rest stop?”

We pulled off the highway to a rest area with a cluster of fast food restaurants. I followed Daniel into the grubby hamburger joint that seemed to ooze with the smell of grease. As we ordered our burgers and fries, I realized that I hadn’t really had anything but gourmet food in the months since I moved into the Harrison Estate. My lumpy fast food burger was somehow both repulsive and comforting.

We ate in heavy silence, the weight of all our unspoken words filling the air between us. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I knew this wasn’t the time or place. I needed to wait until we were back in Mercy River, where I could talk to him in privacy.

As we walked back to the car, Daniel draped his arm around my shoulder. “It’s so good to see you, Gracie,” he whispered sweetly. I didn’t respond, but leaned my head against his shoulder the same way I used to when we would watch movies in his dorm room.

I managed to sleep for most of the rest of our trip. Exhaustion overtook me quickly and I nodded off with my head on Daniel’s shoulder. I didn’t wake up until we pulled to a halt and Daniel gently shook me awake.

“Gracie, we’re home.”

The words sent a shiver through me. Was this still my home? I felt like I had two competing homes, but I didn’t belong in either of them. We were parked in front of my parents’ house, but they hadn’t come out to meet me. That wasn’t really their style, anyway. They would be waiting inside for me, sitting stoically on the couch with placid expressions on their faces like usual.

“Can we go to your dorm first?” I asked as we scooted out of the car. “I would like to talk to you privately.”

“Later, Gracie,” Daniel responded dismissively. “Your parents want to see us first.”

I nodded, feeling the horribly familiar sensation of submissiveness falling over me. I felt the new version of me—the strong, independent woman I’d become—shrink back and let the spell of Mercy River replace her with the obedient, religious girl I had once been.

Daniel led the way, holding tightly onto my hand. I felt the sticky sweat between our palms, despite the chilly November air. The house looked so much smaller than I remembered, with a shabby austerity that stood in stark contrast to the faded opulence of the Harrison Estate.

“Hello, Grace,” my mother’s voice intoned blandly. She was sitting on the couch, her hands folded in the lap of her long cotton skirt as she regarded me with her rounded, emotionless face. I could have forgiven her apparent indifference if it was hiding any emotion, but I knew by now that her appearance was not an act. My mother cared about church, God, and the afterlife. Nothing much else mattered to her, even her own daughter. All that mattered was that I didn’t disgrace her. She was lost in her own messed up idea of religion.

“Welcome back.” My father at least stood up to greet me, but his body was tense. I had the feeling that Daniel had had to convince them to take me back despite my recent transgressions.  I was grateful for that at least.

“It is good to see you both,” I responded quietly, looking down meekly and clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everything can return to how it was meant to be now,” Daniel said in a satisfied voice as he put his arm around my waist possessively. “Now that you are home, we can get everything back on track.”

“No, Daniel, there is something I have to tell you.” I took a deep breath and looked around at the three faces looking back at me. I had wanted to tell Daniel my secret first, in private, but maybe it was better to just get it out all at once. Maybe once they knew, my family would be more understanding of my struggle.

“What’s wrong, Gracie?” Daniel squeezed my hand gently and I looked up into his eyes, searching for something that would tell me he would understand.

“There is something I have to tell all of you.” I could feel my heart beating against my ribcage as I spoke, pounding the blood up to my face as I was about to reveal the deepest, darkest secret in my life and it made me feel like I was going to vomit.

“Do you remember when I worked at the church after school when I was younger, helping Pastor Rick with putting together programs and cleaning up after events? Well, something happened that I never told you, or anyone about. Pastor Rick, he started to tell me I was a pretty little girl and he would have me sit on his lap—and then he started to touch me.” I could feel my voice wavering as tears sprung to my eyes. I looked down, not wanting to see their faces until I had finished.