There has never been a moment in my life when I’ve felt well and truly loved. Accepted and wanted. My parents hadn't wanted me. I’m the accident that should have been 'taken care of', the disgraceful child whose silence they bought. After all, when you have as much money as my father, why should you actually show emotion or feelings?
My father, Davison Bennett Roberts, III, is a third generation banker. His father’s father opened up the local branch, and the rest was, as they say, history. I don’t remember my father ever really ‘liking’ me. Hell, I don’t even really remember him liking my mother, either. He worked and worked, and when he finished he worked some more. When he wasn’t at the bank, he was in his office at home. And when he wasn’t consumed with whatever it was that he did, he was off screwing the hot little secretary, or teller, or college co-ed slut.
Always absent from my life.
Always reminding me, sometimes without his words, how un-important I was.
He was the first strike against mankind, in my eyes.
All the resentment that I held towards men, and my reluctance to start a relationship now, could all be traced back to the man who called himself my father.
The worst part, though… with all his busyness, and lack of care, he still made time to bring the wrath of Davison Roberts, III down on me at every opportunity. My 4.0 grade point average was never going to be good enough to please him. The extracurricular educational clubs that I was allowed to join were never going to help me amount to anything. Plain and simple, I was just never going to be enough.
He didn’t want me, but he still wanted to sling his holier than thou attitude and self-righteousness my way. I’m not sure, even to this day, what he was attempting to teach me. He made it clear from early on that he would never allow a woman to run his company, so I was convinced he just liked to beat me down.
Literally.
He didn’t take his hands to me often, but when he did, it wasn’t pretty. And that was strike two against mankind.
Growing up, I didn’t have many people that I would consider real friends. I had plenty of playmates who were the children of my father’s associates. Those were the sort of children that my parents had allowed me to befriend. Those friends didn’t want me because of me, but because of who my father was and how much money he had. You know, the kind of kids that walked around in their designer clothing, their backs so straight you knew that they had to have a rod shoved so far up their assholes that there was no way that they would be anything but fake.
As I got older, I was once again reminded that people only saw what they could gain by being around me to get closer to my father. Boys never wanted to date ‘me’; they wanted to date my family’s money and connections. The closer I got to graduating high school, the more painfully obvious it became that the boys I dated would never really like me. They were only there to hopefully gain something towards their future careers by being with me.
The only people that mattered to them were… themselves.
And there you have strike three.
I could only trust myself. I made a promise to myself that when I was old enough, I was going to get out of here and finally, be me. No one was going to tell me whom I could have as friends. Men wouldn’t know who my father was so they would love me as me, and not as the daughter of Davison Bennett Roberts III. I would find people who loved me… for me.
And I was never going to need a man.
I am Denise Ann Roberts. Strong, proud, and independent. A loyal friend, godmother, and I radiate fucking happiness so that people will never see how lonely I really am.
Funny thing about these masks that people put on. I look like the happiest woman in the world. I look like I have everything that I want out of life. That everything is perfect. And that is exactly what I want people to see. But, inside? Inside, I’m dying. I’m not happy. I have amazing friends, and I know that they love me, but I am completely alone. Just like I have been my whole life, and the best part, the big kicker in my ass… I only have myself to blame.
Why? Because I have pushed the one man that I love away from me, and I keep pushing, even when he keeps coming back for more. I’ve found the one man out of millions that might be able to prove me wrong. That might be able to love me back unconditionally and never change.
And every single day that I have to pretend to be okay, to be happy, it’s slowly killing me.
Three Years Earlier
Two long years and finally, finally, Izzy is living. Her beautiful smile is plastered all over her face, and that twinkle is back in her eyes. Nothing but worry has consumed me since that day she called me to come get her from Brandon. To come save her.
I had slowly watched her leave me. No, not in the sense that she wasn’t my friend, but she was stolen from me. I watched her become the me that I used to be. A shell of my former self, afraid to move because of the people that tugged the strings to my life.
The last couple of days haven’t been pretty. Between that bastard ex-husband sending Izzy a twisted package, and her almost shutting down, I’ve been so worried that she would revert back into the depression that she has been slowly waking up from.
When she opened that package and I saw the panic and fear take over, I didn’t know what to do or how to help. The first thing I did was call Greg, the best ‘big brother’ that a girl could ever dream for. He’s been right there with me, every step of the way, making sure that Izzy’s okay and that we’re both safe. Whatever Greg did earlier seems to be the wakeup call that she needed. Or maybe it’s just the reminder he gave her that she wasn’t allowed to check out.
Whatever the reason, here we are at Club Carnal, celebrating my best friend’s thirtieth birthday and the anniversary of what is arguably the worst date in her life.
Even with all the unknown and lingering fear in her life, my girl is happy, and we are living life tonight. And, enjoying every damn second as if it is our last.
****
Damn I’m horny.
I’ve been eyeing the hot bartender for the last fifteen minutes. I had decided earlier on today that I would finally end this damn dry spell tonight, and he seems like a decent choice for a quick, one-night stand. Lord knows, I need a little action tonight or my vagina might just run off and join the circus. I snort at the thought and gear up to hopefully secure my orgasm for the night, one that doesn’t require batteries.
Right when I get ready to open my mouth and invite him for a night of fun, I hear the most delicious voice come from behind me. A deep, southern drawl that can be heard over the pounding beat of the music, wraps around me like a warm blanket of sin, and my poor neglected vagina perks right up and says ‘hey… me, pick me’!
I quickly close my mouth, and shift on my stool so that I can turn and face him. Oh. My. God. He has got to be the most attractive man I have ever seen. He looks like a walking ad for pure, raw sex. The kind of sex that stays with you for days, even months afterwards because it was that good. It looks as if someone has taken every panty-melting feature you could dream up, and stuck them on his legs. And damn, what legs those are.
He towers over Izzy, which really isn’t that hard to do, but he towers over me, too, and that is hard. It’s difficult to tell from my perch on the bar stool, but I’m guessing he’s got at least six inches on my five-foot-eight. My fingers itch to run themselves through his messy brown hair. Like a movie reel, I can almost see it playing out, him between my thighs as I pull him closer to my center, holding on to his hair, and riding the wave. I have to clench my legs together at the thought of his thick lips licking and sucking against my core.
I quickly shake myself out of my lust-induced fog, hoping that no one noticed that I almost came on the spot just from looking at this stranger. I would’ve gotten away with it, but when I shift on my seat, and my throbbing clit rubs against my dress, his eyes snap my way, and I blurt the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Who in the hot hunk of sex are you?” I might have been mortified if it hadn’t been for the warm smile that instantly took his face from ruggedly handsome to drop dead, pussy quivering sexy.
He walks around Izzy, who is looking at me with a big drunken smile, and steps right into my space.
“Hunk of sex?” he repeats. His dark brown eyes alight with mischief, and if I’m not mistaken, the same amount of interest that mine are projecting.
“Ah, yeah. I assume that you know how hot you are, so you’re either fishing for compliments, or just trying to make me look ridiculous. Either way, you’re still hot.” I smile, hoping for a flirty come and get me look, but with the amount of alcohol that I’ve consumed tonight, I might just look like a blubbering fool.
He laughs, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “I know what I look like, and if it works for you, then I’m all for it, Babe. I’m Beck.”
He sticks his hand out to shake mine, and the second I place mine in his, I feel like my whole arm is on fire. This isn’t just tingles or awareness. This is full-blown explosion of our bodies recognizing each other. Almost as if we were meant to collide in this place. My whole being becomes a livewire of electricity.
“D-Dee,” I sputter, feeling my cheeks flame when he smiles down at me. “I’m Dee.”
I shake my head, trying to clear the images of this man taking me hard against the bar. When I catch movement to my left, I turn my head and get one hell of a buzz killing shock. I can’t even move my eyes when I look on in disbelief. It’s a tragic, train wreck happening right before my eyes, and there isn’t anything I can do about it. My whole body goes stiff, and I might have even whimpered. Beck’s hand, still engulfing my much smaller one, tightens slightly, but enough to make me wake the hell up. Lord knows, my mind is foggy enough tonight, but when I meet the eyes of our newest arrival, I swear that my heart stops.
This is going to be bad. Really bad.
My common sense kicks in about two seconds too late. Izzy turns her beautiful, ‘living life to the fullest’ smile my way, and I know she can tell something is wrong. She looks confused for a second, and before I can call out a warning for the huge cluster fuck that is about to slam right into her, she turns, and all I can do is watch it play out like a damn horror movie from hell.
“What the hell?” I feel Beck say against my back. His hands grip my hips when I sway slightly.
No, no… There is no way this is happening. I would give anything to be able to stop this from happening, but I know there isn’t a thing I can do. This is happening, and all I can do is wait to pick up the pieces when she falls.
It happens so quickly. She turns with her smile still in place, with only a little confusion, and when she sees what I’ve seen I watch as her legs give out, and her body falls limply into Greg’s arms. And for the second time in as many days, all I feel is fear. That same fear that I’m starting to worry will never leave me.
I go to move off my stool to get to Izzy, but halt in my tracks when I hear his voice. “Are you fucking kidding me? Isabelle is your goddamn Iz?” The newcomer, who I instantly recognized as Izzy’s old high school sweetheart, growls out in a tone that makes every hair on my body stand on end.
“Oh God,” I squeak.
“Holy shit,” Beck rumbles against my back.
“Yeah, holy shit about covers it.”
Greg doesn’t even pause. He wraps Izzy protectively in his strong arms and starts working his way through the crowd towards the back hall. Beck breaks me from my stunned immobility when he grabs my hand and pulls me after them. I can feel the others behind us, but I can only focus on the huge man barreling after Greg and Izzy, and making sure that I get where I need to be.
What a mess. As my legs race to keep up with Beck’s much longer ones, the only thing on my mind is how Izzy’s going to bounce back from seeing the man she never stopped loving again, the man she’s thought was dead for over a decade.
****
We’ve been standing in the narrow hallway outside the owner’s office for a while now. Not too long, but enough that Axel, Izzy’s ex, is pacing like a caged animal. When his patience snaps, and he starts yelling through the door, I know I have to do something. Stepping in front of a feral beast probably isn’t very smart, but if he has to physically plow over me, at least I will offer some kind of speed bump.
At this point, I can safely say that my earlier thought that this would be a mess was a great understatement. I know there isn’t much that I can do if Axel wants to get past me, but right now, the only thing on my mind is keeping him away from Izzy so she doesn’t have another episode. I can’t let her sink back into that pit of depression that she was in for such a long time. There have been times when I really doubted my ability to keep her sane. Hell, I doubted my ability to keep me sane.
Right here, and right now, I have to put my best friend hat on and do whatever I need to do for Izzy. I spare Beck a brief glance before looking back up into the fire sparking, emerald green eyes of Axel Reid.
“Move the fuck out of my way, Woman. I will not tell you a-fuckin-gain.” The cold fury lacing his words causes me to flinch, but I stand my ground. “I will get back there. Do you fucking hear me, Isabelle? I will be talking to you!” He screams loudly over my head so that his voice can do what I won’t let him physically do... reach Izzy.
“You need to stop. I don’t mean shut up and sit down. I mean shut up and go the hell on. If Izzy ever wants to speak to you, which I seriously doubt she will after your immature little tantrum, then she will call. But this, this shit that you are so inclined to throw in her face is going to stop. Right. Fucking. Now.” I’m pretty proud of myself when I deliver all of that without my voice shaking with the fear still surrounding me.
When his eyes, already so full of anger and hate, turn towards me, I know it’s not going to be pretty. I can almost taste the madness coming off of him. Right before he can get a word in, Beck hooks me around the hip and pushes me behind him. “No.” One word, but one with so much meaning, only a fool wouldn’t recognize the warning. This man, who doesn’t even know me, just stuck up and picked sides against someone close enough to be his family.
That doesn’t happen to me.
Never, not once, has a man ever been anything but a narcissistic ass towards me. I stopped expecting anything more than some tit staring, and if I’m lucky, an orgasm years ago. But with that simple move, Beck might become the first man to make me question my decision about getting attached.
It doesn’t take long for things to get a little crazy. Even I’m not comfortable with all the testosterone waves pulsing off each of these men. All I want to do is grab Izzy and get back home to our safe little nest.
Beck stands his ground for a few minutes, nods his head, and takes a step back next to me, effectively making my wall of resistance against Axel one body longer. Not once does he remove his arm from my waist. I’m too busy trying to figure out my body’s reaction to this man, so I don’t notice when Axel’s anger hits a breaking point.
“FUCK!” he roars. Literally roars. Goosebumps break out across my body, and each hair stands on end. He is nothing short of terrifying. “Get out of my goddamn way, Woman!”
Axel’s last outburst must have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Before Axel can even continue his tirade, a spitting mad Greg pulls open the door supporting my back. One look at his face, and I know that he’s reached his breaking point, too. Honestly, I figured he would bust out the door the second that Axel screamed for ‘Isabelle’. After I right myself from losing the door that I had been leaning against, Beck and I calmly move to the side to get out of his way. I’m trying to keep my shit together, but inside, I’m anything but calm.
A million questions are running through my mind. Who has Izzy? Is she okay? Does she need me? Did I do the right thing keeping Axel away from her? Where is she?
I zone out with my worry when they start their pissing contest. I know Greg has Izzy’s best interest at heart, but part of me wonders if we’re doing the right thing by keeping these two apart. Something in my gut is telling me that things aren’t what they seem.
I know I’m not the poster child for relationships, or hell, even a supporter of them, but there is something to be said about getting some closure. I just want her to be happy, however she gets there, and by whatever she needs to do to achieve it.
When I hear the door slam shut, I focus my eyes back on the tall man standing before me. Shoulders hunched, hand rubbing the back of his neck, and now with the fury dimming slightly, you can feel the waves of confusion pulsating off of him. I feel the arm around my hips tighten slightly, and I look up into Beck’s concerned, chocolate brown eyes.
“Are you okay?” he whispers in my ear.
“Not really, but it’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Let me see your phone.” I don’t even question him. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hand it to him. His large hand enveloping my iPhone makes it look like a tiny Lego. His long fingers hold me in a trance as he unlocks my phone and moves them across the screen in a slow dance that has my skin prickling with awareness. I jump slightly when I hear another phone ringing. He hands me back my phone, and with a twisted smile, and a gleam in his eyes, pulls his out of his front pocket.
“Will you call me when you get home? Let me know you’re okay, and that everything else is okay?”
I just nod my head, my heart pounding so violently in my chest, and my mind screaming at me over and over to run. There are times in my life when I want so desperately to let my steel-enforced walls down. To let a man in. To believe that they won’t hurt me. But then, I remember all the pain in the past, and all the pain they have ever caused me, and those walls just get thicker and thicker.
“You think maybe you can give me the words?” His smile grows when I nod again.
“Uh… yeah. I’ll let you know.” Because really, what else can I say here? If anything else, maybe in a few weeks when things calm down with Iz he could be a welcomed distraction. A way to relax and remind myself to enjoy life a little more.
The spell is broken when Axel takes a few steps back, and then drops to the floor in front of the closed door. As if even knowing she is in there is keeping him rooted to this very hallway. The handsome, blond man that arrived with them just shakes his head a few times and leans back as if settling in for a long stay. Beck mimics his move and sighs deeply. Of course, these men know something bigger than us is happening here. They just silently wait to help whichever side needs it.
I can’t keep my eyes off of Axel. He sits there on the floor with his head resting against the wall, eyes closed, but body so tightly wound that there isn’t a possibility he is relaxed. I want to hate him. I want to think he is this heartless bastard that just up and left Izzy and ignored her letters. I want to blame him for the series of events that followed. The ones that have had her thinking he has been dead and gone for the last decade plus. I want nothing more than to walk up to this man and kick him in the nuts for all that it’s worth.
But… but something is holding me back from automatically condemning him to hell. Maybe it’s the presence of these strong men silently offering what I think is support, or the fact that when he realized who Izzy was, the first thing that flashed in those green eyes of his was shock, and if I’m not mistaken… love.
Whatever is happening here is larger than any of us realize. So with the knowledge that I’m just going to have to watch it play out like the rest of them, I go to settle in for a long wait. Just when I’m about to get comfortable against the wall, the door clicks open, and out walks the other man who arrived with the group. I think Greg called him Locke. Every single fiber of this man is laced with a strong warning. He appears unapproachable or at least that’s just the vibe he wants to project. His eyes, so dark they appear black, take in the crowded hallway but zoom in on Axel when he stands from his position on the floor.
Bottom line, that man scares the ever living shit out of me.
“What the fuck are you glaring at, Locke?” Axel growls, stepping a little closer to the big, scary dude.
“I’m looking right at you, Motherfucker. It shouldn’t take a big leap of ‘clue the fuck in’ for you to realize I’m looking right at your dumb, fucking ass.” His deep baritone snarls out the words. Eyes hard as coal, his large frame is puffed up and ready for a fight. I back up slightly, just from his strong presence. Even though his words are spoken in a low tone, the sheer power behind them has every instinct in my body telling me to run from the predator.
Obviously, Axel doesn’t seem to have the same issues concerning this man as I do. He walks, calm as you please, right into Locke’s space. “What the hell? Is there a reason you seem to think I pissed all over your shit?”
I watch them having their heated debate. Each time Axel opens his mouth to throw some excuse back to Locke, or Locke explains what is going on with Izzy in the other room, I feel my heart pick up speed. Each word that comes out of their mouths makes my world slowly rock and rumble, knowing that the things Izzy has believed for so long are so far from reality.
It’s like when you see a car accident and you just can’t look away. Or when you’re watching a horror movie that you know will keep you up at night for years to come. You know you shouldn’t watch, you know there is something coming, but for the life of you, you can’t look away. This is one of those moments for me. I know in my gut that I need to stop listening, but I can’t look away. I can’t plug my ears as a toddler would, and then drop to the floor, throwing a fit that demands these men to shut the hell up.
So I stand here and take it all in. Then, Axel does the only thing that can break me out of my shocked induced stupor. He mentions the one man that not only ruined Izzy’s life, but mine as well. The one man that still has the power to ruin hers, and the one man that I would do anything to see wiped off this planet.
Brandon Hunter, Izzy’s ex-husband.
At my gasp, his face turns to me. I flinch again at the hard look that’s come over his otherwise handsome features. “Are you fucking okay?” he spits with a tone that lacks all sympathy. I’m the annoying one here? I don’t fucking think so!
How in the hell can he turn this around, and make it everyone else’s fault? Any sympathy that I’ve felt for him over the last hour or so vanishes instantly. I feel the adrenaline starting to fire through my veins. He has the misfortune of pissing off the mama bear inside of me. I have years and years of being Izzy’s rock and strength on my side to fuel my anger. You do not piss off the one person who would go to battle to make sure that the woman in the other room doesn’t turn into that powerless blob again. Especially when, in all reality, all of this is in a way his fault. Even if he doesn’t know it, HE is the reason she is so screwed up.
And, just like a man, he can’t keep his mouth shut when he pisses off a woman. You would think that he would know better. But his words prove otherwise. “Seriously, do you need something? Water, a chair, a fucking Midol?”
All that adrenaline, fire, and pent up, stone cold fury rushes to the surface, and all I want to do is charge this man. I walk right up to him, step into the middle of the small space between him and Locke, and do my best to meet his angry glare with one of my own. “Listen here you… you big asshole, you will not sit here and be a little shit. You have no clue what’s going on, but I promise you this, it’s bigger than your need to ‘chat’. Do you understand me?” I jam my finger into his rock hard chest a few times just to make sure my point is clear.
He looks down at my finger, still pressed hard between his pecs, before wrapping his fingers around my wrist and removing it. “No, little girl, I do not fucking understand you, not one little bit. So maybe your ass can clue a bastard in?” Just as quickly, that burst of anger seems to vanish, and he looks like the same confused man that he was earlier when he realized the woman standing before him was his long, lost lover.
“I can’t, Axel. This isn’t my story to tell.” I smile weakly, but drop my lips the second his confusion turns a little darker.
“How do you know my name? I haven’t gone by Axel in a long fucking time, Sweetheart, so if anyone knows what’s going on, my guess would be you.”
“Of course I know what’s happening, but like I said, this isn’t my story to tell.” I point towards the door, the door that is protecting Izzy from having to have this conversation. “It’s hers. It always has been. I just never thought I would see the day it would need to be told.”
His eyes squint, glaring down at me when I refuse to open up and clue him in, “All right, fine, don’t fucking tell me, but let me ask you this, does her fucking husband know she’s out, dressed like that, flirting with anything that speaks to her?”
“You son of a bitch…” I don’t even think before my hand flies up and cracks against his cheek. It’s hard to tell who is more shocked that I slapped him, and slapped him hard enough to cock his head to the side.
“What the fuck was that for?” he rumbles. Behind me, I can hear one of the three other men in the hall laughing, and heat rushes to my face. As embarrassed as I might be for letting my temper get the best of me, there is no way in hell that I feel bad about giving him that hit.
“Oh shit, shit… I am not sorry for that. Get that straight, right now, but you need to watch your mouth, and what you say about Iz. Until you know what’s going on, you have no room to say anything. Not one damn thing.” I cross my arms over my chest and hold my ground. If he isn’t going to listen to anyone, then I’ll take him out by myself if I have to.
He sighs deeply before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, slipping out a white card, and holding it out to me. “Here, give her this, and have her call me.”
“I’ll tell her, but I won’t make any promises to you. If you understood what you are asking of me, well, you would just understand where I’m coming from.”
He starts to respond, but the door next to us opens up, and Greg walks through the door with Izzy curled protectively in his arms. The scene reminds me of so many of her ‘breaks’ in the past that I sway slightly with the enormity of emotions weighing me down. I want to scream and punch something.
What I really want to do is find Brandon-fucking-Hunter and kill him with my bare hands. How dare he take such a perfectly happy woman and turn her into this hot mess. The truth is, not even I am immune to him. Not after that night, not too long after he and Izzy were married when he showed me firsthand what she had been living through, and then some. When the memory filters through my mind, I find myself almost on my ass, but Beck steps over and loops his arm around my shoulders, holding me steady.
“I got you,” he mumbles in my ear.
“Thanks,” I offer, weakly.
Greg walks out a second later and stands in front of me. I know he’s just as worried about her as I am. It’s written all over his face. “She finally calmed down about ten minutes ago. Let’s get her home, yeah?” He addresses me softly so that he doesn’t disturb her.
“Sure, G. Let me go get the bouncer to open the side door. They already have your truck parked back there so we don’t have to take her through the front.” Seeing her like this, and the worry that Greg has, just confirms my thought that this isn’t going to be good at all.
I turn and almost crash into the man standing behind me, catching myself just in time.
“Come on, I’ll make sure you don’t need any more help.” Beck reaches over and laces his fingers through mine. He’s offering a whole hell of a lot more with that show of support than what his words suggest.
I try not to like the warm feeling that gives me, but I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy and entertain the thought. But right now, I can’t even let myself go there. Izzy needs me and just like all the times before, and any time she will need me in the future, I’ll be there. I know, all too well, what it feels like when there isn’t anyone there, and I will never allow someone I love to feel that kind of pain.