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Authors: Sara Hubbard

Beautiful and Broken (6 page)

BOOK: Beautiful and Broken
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When we get to the house, there are people lingering outside, smoking by the double doors. Amy walks past with her head held high, and a couple of guys turn to watch her walk inside. I've never had that effect on guys. Maybe if I had, Jason wouldn't have strayed.
Jason
. No. I refuse to let him get me down. Tonight I have a purpose, and I might even try to have a little fun while I do it.
 

Inside, I stop dead in my tracks. Lap. Of. Luxury. The entryway is grand and the floor is marble. The chandelier above me is crystal—I’m sure—and casts shapes on the walls as the falling sun hits the circular window above the door. A semi-circular balcony with a mahogany staircase leads to the upstairs. I almost sigh looking up it. I didn’t grow up poor, by any stretch. I mean, most people where I lived would call my family well off, but this place…this takes money to a whole new level.

"Smile," Amy says. "You look like I'm torturing you."

"I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed. I don't belong here, Amy."

"Why? Because this asshole has money? Doesn't make him any better than you. And trust me, I know the guy. He's really not. You're real. I'd take you over anyone at this place, hands down."

"Thanks. I needed that."

"Why don't you mingle while I go pee?"

"Mingle?" I whisper. The thought gives me anxiety, but I force a smile instead. My heart is racing. Being here reminds me of high school—Amy and Megan were fabulous, and I was a tag-along. The shy girl. I only had a social life in school because they made me have one—one of the perks of growing up with girls who were social butterflies. Who knew how I would have turned out if I hadn't had them in my life?

Everyone in the living room to the right seems to keep their shoes on, so I go with the flow, even though it makes me feel rude. No one comes to greet me. In fact no one looks my way. I’m not upset. I don’t want to fall over my words as I contemplate what these people think of me. I’m wearing Payless flats that cost me $9.99 and my dress is from Walmart. My hair is down and the new color brings out the green in my eyes. A lawyer friend of Amy’s walks by and smiles. She doesn’t stop to talk and I drift on over to the staircase. Twenty minutes later, Amy still hasn’t emerged from the bathroom so I start to panic and worry something has happened to her. I know it's silly. Amy is the toughest girl I know. If anything, she's probably traumatizing someone else. But I have to check—just to be sure. I pass a nude sculpture while walking through the wide hallway from beneath the staircase. Seriously? A bronze life-sized sculpture. Does this guy not have anything better to spend his money on? Like starving kids in Africa. Geesh.
 

“Excuse me,” I say to a waiter. This place is catered, and I didn’t expect any less. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“There are six, ma’am. The closest is downstairs to the right, just before the entertainment room.”

“Perfect.” Six bathrooms and this guy probably lives alone. What a waste. And an entertainment room? Is that necessary? Yeah, I realize I'm just jealous, but it doesn't make me think differently. My green-eyed monster is alive and well right now.
 

I run my hand along the smooth wooden banister as I walk up the stairs to the second floor. I look around but can’t find the stupid bathroom. Normally at a party, you look for a lineup outside a door, but there are so many frigging bathrooms here that I doubt I’m going to happen across that. I turn a corner and almost bump into a tall, thick man. His hair is longish and is covered with a hockey hat.
 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip from his beer as he heads for the stairs. Awesome. I couldn't even get a verbal response from him. I'm so out of my element.
 

“The bathroom?”

A guy with an accent stops his conversation with an actress I’ve seen on the big screen and he shrugs at me. Miss Kate Barrister—the actress—ignores me. I love her on television but I can’t muster the strength to go fangirl on her.
 

I eventually find a bathroom, or more accurately, an en-suite. I walk through a beast of a bedroom with a massive king sized bed clad in red satin sheets. There are pictures on the dresser but I resist the urge to be nosy, heading to the bathroom. After I flush, I set my hands on the counter and lean in. Look at me: I don’t belong here. Who the hell am I to think I can land some rich, glamorous client? Most of the people in this place won’t even say hello to me, let alone spend thousands of dollars on a house I’m trying to sell. Why did I listen to Amy?

As I go to leave, I hear another door slam—the door to the bedroom. I hear giggles and my eyes widened when a voice says, “I want you. Now. Fuck me.”
 

I raise my eyebrows. Oh dear God. No. Someone pants and moans and then there’s a thud, as if the people in the bedroom have fallen onto the bed. I need to get out of here—quick. What are my chances of crawling across the floor and getting out the bedroom door without them noticing? Uh, not good. So I slide to the floor and cover my ears, as a woman yells, “Yeah! Right there. Yeah! I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Oh my God. I cover my ears for several minutes and when I take them off, the headboard starts banging into the wall and the mattress creaks in a steady rhythm.
 

“Harder, Sawyer. Harder. I want you to come.”

Sawyer? This. Isn’t. Happening. I mean, how common is the name Sawyer in these social circles? I assumed having sex with me wasn’t his first rodeo—so to speak—but if
he’s
in the room next door then I feel even dirtier than I did last week. And I have to listen through the whole thing. How could I have let myself be with him? I don’t even remember if it was good. I mean, based on this chick’s performance, I
imagine
it was, but if I can’t remember it then it might as well have been the worst sex I’ve ever had. I want to die.
 

The marathon continues for another ten or fifteen minutes. Thirty-two minutes in total since they started! Have I ever been missing out! Jason and I were over in five, foreplay included. Jason. Has he been with anyone since me? Uh. The thought brings tears to my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. No.
 

“Uh. Yes. I’m going to come. Uh...”

Hurry up already.
 

“Yeeessssss!”

Finally.
 

After thirty seconds of laughing, I hear zippers being zipped and a token, “Thanks, Laura. I’ll call you.”
 

“It’s Lilley.”

“Of course it is. Sorry about that. I was close, though.” His voice is amused, it’s as if I can hear him smiling through the door.

Smack!

I raise my eyebrows. Had he called me by the wrong name? Did I slap him too? I frigging hope I did. Good for you, Lilley.
 

I wait a cursory ten minutes. Just in case. It would be just my luck to walk out of this bathroom and run smack dab into Lilley or Sawyer by the bedroom door. They’d know instantly that I’d been privy to their intimate moment and I would have felt a bit pervy, to be honest. But what could I have done, really? Interrupted and excused myself while they lay naked on the bed, penis inserted and all? Oh hey, remember me? The girl you screwed last week? Just try and ignore me, please.
 

No. It was kinder for me to wait it out.
 

I roam the halls, desperately searching for Amy. I’m ready to leave this place. I never should have come. I find her back against the wall with a guy’s hands on either side of her head, while he leans into her. The moment looks intimate, and the way she’s smiling tells me she’s completely into him. Well, crap. Now what? I don’t want to drag her away but I don’t want to leave her, either. I have no choice—wait it out. Again.

I head outside and sit in one of the lawn chairs by the pool. The air is cool. It’s fall. Thankfully, most of the people here are inside. I can see two people behind the bushes making out and I try my best to ignore them.
 

I stare up at the sky and count stars. The moon is low and full, the music quiet. It’s amazing how much the windows and doors block out the music inside. I can almost hear the crickets.
 

Almost. And not for long.
 

First, I hear yelling. A couple of male voices. I can’t make out what the men are saying because they're screaming over each other. The music from the living room, which seems to go through the house on built in speakers, almost drowns them out.
 

Two men burst through the sliding doors. One is Sawyer. Can I not get away from this guy?
 

The other guy was at the bar the night I met Sawyer but I can’t for the life of me remember his name. Ben, maybe? A small crowd of men and women follow them as they head past me, toward the pool.

“Fuck you,” says the nameless guy as he points his finger at Sawyer.

“Fuck me?” says Sawyer with a chuckle as he walks away from the guy. “No. Fuck
you
.”
 

“Turn around. Face me, you fucking coward.”

Sawyer stops dead in his tracks and like a machine, he mechanically turns around. “Call me a coward again.” His voice is even as he narrows his eyes and straightens his back.

“Coward.”

Oh, shit.
 

They’re in each other’s faces and I can tell a fight is about to start. And they’re about two feet away from my lawn chair. I don’t even think they realize I’m sitting here, practically between them. I bite my bottom lip and my gaze snaps back and forth between them. I’d run away but I’m afraid to take a fist if I make any sudden movements.
 

The fight erupts and people spill outside to surround them. Ben smashes his fist into Sawyer’s face. Sawyer opens his mouth, screams like a crazy person, and goes fucking nuts. He pounds on the other guy over and over, and the shots Ben gets in don't even seem to faze Sawyer.
 

I jump from the lawn chair. “Stop!” I scream when Ben hits the floor. Blood spills from his eyebrow and his nose. Sawyer jumps on top of him and continues pounding on him like maniac, but Ben finds some energy and comes to his feet, matching blows. Spit and blood sprays from Ben’s face and hits me between the eyes, and I quickly wipe it off with the back of my hand.
 

"Stop,” I yell. "You’re going to kill each other."

No one steps in. In fact the dozen or so people in the backyard don't even flinch. They want the fight to continue. I can see the blood lust in their intense, hungry eyes. Sadistic bastards.
 

Then things take a turn for the worst. Sawyer punches Ben so hard he spins around and topples on top of me. I fall to the ground and air whooshes from my chest. I can't breathe and it freaks me out—but more importantly, my head is on fire. Before I went down, the guy's jaw collided with my forehead. My head throbs so intensely I almost pass out. It’s like my brain has exploded within the cage of my skull. Searing pain shoots from my forehead and radiates to the back of my head to trickle down my spine. When the guy rolls off of me, I heave air back in, quick and hard. Blood oozes from my forehead. That's when I feel something small but hard sticking out from above my brows.
 

“Ow, ow, ow,” I whimper.

Sawyer straightens and stares at me. He blurs from two people to one and his outline is hazy. Ben gawks at me too before wiping away the blood spilling from his mouth. They stare at me like I’m a freak. Like I have the letter
L
tattooed across my forehead.
 

“What are you staring at?” I manage to ask.

Ben spits blood on the ground and rubs his eyes. He laughs out loud, a full belly laugh that leaves me thinking I’ve entered the twilight zone. One minute ago these guys were set on killing each other, yet now their dispute seems to have completely resolved. Sawyer turns white. He looks almost ashen, like he might pass out. Does he recognize me?
 

“What?” I scream at the two idiots.
 

Ben points to my head and says, “Can I have my tooth back?”

I lift my hands to touch polished enamel of a tooth protruding from my forehead. It’s smooth and hard and a little bit wet. When I pull my fingers away from it, my fingertips are dotted with blood.
 

“Oh my God,” I say quietly before my eyes roll back in my head and I fall backward.

I’ve been hit.

Five

I SMELL THE stale air before I open my eyes. The faint sound of a heartbeat beeps on a monitor. It beats in time with my own, a little fast, a little furious. My eyes flutter open and at first, everything is fuzzy. When the world blurs into focus, I find myself lying in a hospital bed, clothed in a pastel green gown. The lights are on and they're blinding me. I narrow my eyes to shield them from the glare. An IV in the bend of my arm stings when I lift my arm, so I immediately straighten it.
 

"What happened?" I say to no one.
 

I realize I'm not alone when I hear Amy's voice.
 

"So last night didn't go as planned," she says matter-of-factly.

I'm in a hospital, so this is a little bit of an understatement. My head hurts so bad, particularly my forehead, and it throbs so forcefully I feel as if my head might split open from the pressure.
 

"Your head got in the middle of a fight last night, and apparently it lost."

The fight. The night before comes rushing back at me and I squint through the pain. "How long have I been out?"

"Ah…it's ten am now. So…maybe twelve hours, give or take. But you've been in and out of consciousness with the painkillers."

"Was there a tooth lodged in my head?"

Amy laughs and then quickly pulls her lips into a firm line. "Ben Morrow has literally been inside of you. Or at least his tooth has. Do you know how many girls would love to say that?"

"He was at the bar the night I met Sawyer, right?"
 

"Yep.”

“I kind of remember the fight, but I don’t remember what happened after.”

BOOK: Beautiful and Broken
11.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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