Tortured Soul (16 page)

Rebecca became silent at Charlie’s words. Emily lifted her gaze from the floor. She took note of everyone staring at her, and her eyes settled on mine.

“I bled once and it wouldn’t stop. Jonas had a doctor come to the home, and he examined me. They ended up sedating me, and when I woke, the doctor explained that the damage was so significant that he had to do a full hysterectomy.” She pulled her gaze from mine, shame and horror filling the depths of her blue eyes. She looked at her sister. “Even if I were able to physically have children, I wouldn’t. I’m not normal, B, and I never will be. What I went through fucked me up—physically and emotionally. I wouldn’t put that burden on a child.” Emily rose from the couch with her shoulders back, her movements fluid and graceful. Without a word, she walked down the hallway and into her bedroom.

Rebecca was barely holding it together, Ella looked pale, and Jax and Charlie looked ready to kill someone. I went to follow her, but Larz’s hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Boss, give her some space. She doesn’t like people to see her in tears; she sees them as a weakness.”

Desperately needing to beat the shit out of something, I clenched and unclenched my fists. Charlie was already standing, his gym bag over his shoulder. This had become a silent and unspoken understanding between the two of us. Sometimes a guy just needed to blow steam and there is no better way to do it than in a ring. Charlie once had the potential of being a world champion kick boxer. Instead, his wayward temper kept his fighting to a minimum. It had become a routine to call him when I needed an outlet for my own anger. Avoiding his punishing fists and deadly kicks was enough to refocus me. Leaving a lingering kiss on his woman’s lips, I followed him out the door, and we left for Lee’s Gym.

EMILY

Three days had passed since the admission of my infertility. Rebecca was treating me like a child, who might break at any moment. Larz and Charlie thankfully were no different than before. There was understanding in their eyes, though no pity. I had only seen Braiden once in the last three days, when he took me to his home and had Dillon insert the tracking device under the skin on my shoulder. Neatly sewn together with three small stitches, the wound was looking good. Itchy though. It would leave a small scar, but on my patchwork skin, I really didn’t care. I was a broken, infertile, scarred woman. I took solace in the fact that I was no longer the top shelf quality Jonas and his men preferred.

I was in the laundry room at Mercy’s Shelter. Mercy hummed softly behind me as we worked in a comfortable silence. This is what I loved about Mercy, her understanding of the need to just work and move forward. Stopping to reflect on troubled memories was just too hard some days. I saw my therapist yesterday, and he had ruthlessly scratched at my old wounds. I just wanted it to all go away. Lying down, closing my eyes and never waking again seemed like bliss to me. But I had a job to do before there would be any lying down. Jonas Levier. There wasn’t a single bone in my body that didn’t demand that man’s death, the sooner the better.

“I’m taking a belly dancing class.”

Mercy’s admission made me stop in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that she was folding towels, humming again as if nothing had been said.

“Really?” I asked.

She nodded. “Really, but do not tell anyone.” She pointed her finger at me in an attempt to try and look intimidating. I wanted to smile. She was so motherly and fierce all at once. “If Jax found out, he would make me the laughing stock of Claymont.”

I shook my head. “I doubt that. Jax adores you, and he doesn’t seem like the type to ridicule his mom.”

Mercy smiled and plonked herself down on a stool, throwing the last folded towel into the large pile we had been working through. “No, he wouldn’t. But he’d tell Ella and then Ella would tell Rebecca and she would tell Charlie and Charlie wouldn’t let me live it down.” I pulled the last towels from the dryer and began folding them. “You should come with me.” I paused and gave Mercy an ‘over-my-dead-body’ look. She laughed. “Come on, it would be fun.”

“No, thank you. I’ve lived enough of my life being uncomfortably ogled. I’m more than happy to plod along in the background nice and quietly.”

“Nobody ogles you. The instructor is a sixty-three-year-old grandmother, and I am the youngest of the other eight women who go. It’s just for fun and it’s great exercise.”

I considered it for a moment. Older women who no longer paraded around fluffing their feathers like proud peacocks, I might fit in. “I’ll think about it.”

Mercy smile was full of approval when a tap on the door caught our attention.

“Ladies,” said Braiden, his lopsided grin full of mischief. It made my heart stutter with longing to see that smile.

“Mr. Montgomery, you must be here for your date.”

Braiden had a date? The stuttering in my heart shifted to something uncomfortable and my stomach revolted. Was this jealousy? If so, then why was I feeling it? I was angry with this man in front of me. He had thrown me away, left me crying on the floor of my sister’s home. He had been the one to organize the psychiatric facility in Florida. Those reasons alone should have made me spitting mad, not swooning over him or feeling the dead weight of horror at the idea of him with another woman.

“That I am,” he declared, holding his hand out to me. I just stared at it, unable to talk as my body became hostage to foreign emotions. “Come on, Em, or we’ll be late.”

“Late?” I asked, shaking my head.

“For our date. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to give you the chance to back out. Now come on, we have a table full of fine cuisine waiting.”

Mercy gave me an encouraging look as I stepped forward, unsure of what was going on. Braiden took my hand and led me out of the shelter to his beautiful Corvette parked in the back parking lot. He politely opened the door for me and I slid in. As he climbed in the driver’s seat, I spared a quick glance back to the shelter. Mercy was standing at a window with a big grin on her face, waving. I gave her a wave back and turned to face forward.

“Where’s Larz?” I found myself wondering.

“He took off when I arrived.”

“We have a date?”

“We do.” Silence.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a date,” I mumbled, looking down at my worn jeans, dirty sneakers and grey hoodie.

“It doesn’t matter. You can wear anything you want where we’re going.”

More silence.

“I’ve never been on a real date before.”

Braiden glanced my way, his dark eyes full of promise. “I will have to make sure it is a date to remember then.”

We pulled right into the garage at Braiden’s home. “Wait there,” he ordered. He disappeared behind the car somewhere before my door clicked open, and then he stood before me with a large bouquet of deep blue flowers. “Irises. Rebecca told me that they hold the meaning of faith, hope, courage and admiration.”

I stepped slowly from the car and took the flowers gingerly in my hands that shook with emotion. I’d never been given flowers before and these weren’t something as cliché as roses. These were chosen with a particular message in mind.

“Thank you,” I whispered, suddenly shy.

“You’re welcome,” Braiden replied.

Once we were inside, I noticed the lights had been lowered and the dining table was lit with candles of varying sizes and shapes. It made the setting look cozy and intimate. Music played in the background, Ella Fitzgerald’s
Dream a Little Dream of Me
. Jazz was safe music, it was non-Jonas and it was soothing and romantic. The meals were already dished out and ready to eat. The entire setting was like an intoxicating scene from a romance movie and my brain simply could not place me within it. This wasn’t supposed to be my future. I hadn’t even offered myself the chance to dream up something so entirely captivating, so perfect. It was Braiden’s voice from over my shoulder that brought this wistful scene to reality.

“Thank you, Gabbie.”

I hadn’t even realized she was there. I turned in time to see her disappear down the hallway. Braiden pulled out a chair for me, and I moved forward in a daze. I sat gracefully at the immaculate table setting.

“This is all Spanish influenced food, Gabbie’s specialty. I hope you like it.”

The mention of Gabbie had me wondering what Braiden’s relationship was with the Spanish beauty. It wasn’t the first time I had questioned their relationship, but it was the first time I found myself needing to know more about it.

Braiden was seated by my side. He poured water into my wine glass. “I have wine if you would prefer, but Larz told me you don’t like alcohol.”

“I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

Braiden nodded then sat back and watched me. Feeling somewhat self-conscious of his gaze I turned my attention on the food and began to eat, or at least made an attempt to eat. My stomach was coiled with nervous tension.

“Who is Gabbie to you?” I found myself blurting out. It seemed that once you were hit with the jealousy stick, you were forever hit with it.

“We went through police academy together and were then recruited to the NYPD ESU together,” Braiden answered.

“You were a police officer?” I said a little too loudly.

Braiden grinned and raised a brow. “You find that difficult to believe?”

I shook my head in the negative, but turned it into a slow nod as I changed my mind. No, I could not imagine this darkly handsome and wicked man in a police uniform.

“Well, in the end they didn’t want someone with a family like mine working for them, regardless of how well I did my job, so I left. Gabbie stayed until her husband was in a car accident. Then she left too.”

“Gabbie is married?” I hissed.

Braiden laughed loudly. “Seems I am full of surprises tonight.” His laughter died down, and his face became somber. “Gabbie’s husband passed away.”

“Oh,” I mumbled awkwardly.

After a short silence where I chased food around my plate, I glanced back in Braiden’s direction. He was watching me intently.

“If you have something you want to ask me, go ahead. You don’t need to fear talking to me, Em.”

Drawing a deep breath I quickly asked, “Were you two ever together?”

Braiden’s smirk was full of arrogance. “Does the thought displease you?” he asked.

I shook my head no. Braiden’s gaze was so intense and demanding that I found myself unable to lie. Again my head stopped moving from side to side and became a small and hesitant nod.

“I don’t mean for it to bother me. I’m not even sure why it does. But yes, the thought of you and her together makes me feel a little queasy.” Braiden’s smirk became a self-righteous grin and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss him or slap him.

“We dated briefly while in the police academy, but realized we weren’t compatible. We’ve been friends ever since.” The tension seemed to seep from my body with that revelation. “And for the record, Em, although I like that you were uncomfortable with the thought of Gabbie and me together, you have nothing to be worried about where other women are concerned.”

All playfulness and arrogance were gone from Braiden’s face; in its place was a resolute and penetrating gaze that left me breathless. I nodded, not sure how to respond and picked up my fork. I ate with more enthusiasm now that my appetite had mysteriously returned.

“What is your mom like? I can’t imagine what sort of a woman would marry a gun dealer.” I bit my lip nervously wondering if I had suddenly developed a case of foot in mouth. Perhaps I had always been inflicted with it; I just didn’t talk enough for the problem to rear its ugly head.

Thankfully, Braiden laughed. “My mom is gentle, kind, and selfless. She keeps my stepfather grounded and in line. She reminds me a little of Mercy actually, but maybe a little more ruthless. You would have to be to put up with Alexander Toporov. He is arrogant and brutal; I guess that comes with the territory. His kind of business doesn’t allow for weakness—he needs to be strong and sometimes cruel. My mom handles him well. Alexander loves his family, and he adores my mom.”

“They sound interesting.”

Braiden then proceeded to tell me about his teenage stepsisters, his love of fast cars, and his dislike of beans and corn.

“You don’t like corn?” I asked, amazed.
Who doesn’t like corn?
He nodded as he sat back, his meal complete, a satisfied smile on his face.

“What about you, what kind of music do you like?”

So far the conversation had revolved completely around Braiden, which I was more than happy with. I talked enough about myself in therapy. Braiden had told me a lot about his family and life though, so I felt I owed him something.

“Ummm, I guess I like most music except classical. There are bad memories associated with it.”

Braiden nodded. “I take it you like corn?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

“What’s not to like? It can be a vegetable or a sweet. Have you ever had chocolate coated popcorn?” I’m sure my eyes glazed over at the thought. Braiden shook his head. “Now that’s a treat. I haven’t had it since I was a kid, but once you taste it you can never go back to just ordinary popcorn.” I sighed loudly. “I love chocolate.”

Braiden’s grin grew, and he jumped from his chair and disappeared into the kitchen behind us. He was back moments later with a bowl full of chocolates. He placed them down before me and signaled for me to help myself. Trying to look inconspicuous, I wiped my chin to make sure I wasn’t drooling, then proceeded to devour half the bowl of deliciousness. Once I was full and bordered on a chocolate overdose, I leaned back in my chair. Braiden was just watching me curiously as he had done most of the meal. The light flickering from the many candles surrounding us only served to highlight his perfection. He was so dangerously handsome—his features were perfectly carved, his dark eyes daring and seductive. His bottom lip was a little fuller than his top lip, and when one side of his mouth quirked into a smirking grin, I felt myself melt into a puddle.

“Why me?” I found myself asking. A defective female like me shouldn’t be garnering the attention of someone as perfect as Braiden.
Was this a pity date?
I looked to him for an explanation.

He ran a hand through his mess of dark hair. “Many reasons. You’re beautiful, you’re strong, you’re smart, and we have something in common.” When he looked at me this time, the confident mask that Braiden constantly wore was gone. In its place was a man who seemed nervous and unsure of himself. “We’ve both seen and done things we are not proud of. You were forced physically, and me, I did what I had to do in an effort to gain my stepfather’s love and respect.”

“What did you do?” I whispered.

Braiden sighed and looked away, seeming to gather the strength to confess his sins. “Growing up with a man like Alexander as your father was difficult to say the least. He brought me up the only way he knew how, with ruthless discipline. While children my age were building with Legos and playing little league, I was learning gun safety and how to pick locks. I was molded into the perfect soldier for the Toporov Empire. I killed for him, Em. There is so much blood on my hands. There are some days I look at them and wonder why they aren’t dripping red. I like to think the men I killed were all bad in one way or another, but I honestly have no idea. Alexander told me to shoot, and I did. The last job I did for him was meant to be a quiet kill. The target was a man who had tried to blackmail my family, and if there is one thing you never do to a Toporov, it’s threaten his family. The target was supposed to be alone in his home, his family were believed to be on vacation. I broke in, made my way to his bedroom, screwed the silencer on my Glock, and put a bullet in his brain. Quiet, clean, the weapon was untraceable and the target was known for his criminal associations, so the authorities wouldn’t be too concerned with one less asshole on the streets. When I turned to leave, there was a little girl standing in the doorway to the room. She had watched the whole thing.” Braiden went quiet. His teeth worried at his bottom lip, and his head tilted in thought. “He was supposed to be found by the maid the next morning, the wife and children weren’t meant to see anything. That little girl will never be the same, Em. She watched some stranger put a bullet in her daddy’s head, and that will stay with her forever. That was when I realized what I was doing, that the life I was living destroyed people, innocent people. I wanted out. Within a week I had given up my position as Alexander’s head of security, and I was officially exiled from the family. I haven’t seen my mom or stepsisters since.”