Breaking Kate: The Acceptance Series (3 page)

“Want to know what the kicker is, Katherine? My dad
did
disclose he was an owner in Thompson; it was in the original contract. He went home yesterday to get it and it was missing. Remember why we moved? Why we just bought this behemoth of a house? The one my parents spent five million dollars on? Because we were
robbed
. Remember how strange it was that someone was able to get past the security system and get in? The place was a mess but nothing was missing. My dad was sure yesterday that you or your dad broke in and replaced the original agreement with the fake one that didn’t disclose the partnership in Thompson. Great thinking by the way; do it months ahead of time so no one would be the wiser. The money he got won’t even pay off the house, cars, pay for my school or anything. Your father cancelled everything yesterday; the company-paid life insurance is gone so now there is no life insurance payout. We are screwed and it’s all thanks to you and him! So, Katherine, how much
did
you know? How long were you leading me on to get the information you needed?”

It feels like someone has kicked me in the chest. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, this
can’t
be happening.

“Michael, I swear I didn’t know anything about this. I am not him! I would
never
take advantage of your family, of anyone,
ever
. I don’t need my dad’s approval or his money! I have my own. I get it when I turn twenty-five. My mom made me swear never to tell anyone,
he
doesn’t even know.”

I am sobbing so hard and can’t stop. It’s is utterly ridiculous that he would even
begin
to think I would have something to do with this. Michael gets up and goes to his bag I brought in from the beach last night.

“Michael, please tell me you believe me. I would never break into your house or give my dad the code. I didn’t go to lunch with your dad to trick him; I went because it’s what we do. I
loved
Grant. He was more of a father to me than my own ever was. If this is true, I don’t even want to know him. I love you! Please tell me you believe me.”

Michael looks at me with nothing but contempt and pure anger in his eyes.

“My dad knew I had this. He knew I was going to give it to you last night, but maybe his accident was his way of letting me know I can’t trust you. I can’t be a part of your family and you
definitely
can’t be a part of ours. Joseph Moore did this with your help or without it—his blood courses through your veins, it’s in your soul—and one day, you will turn into a traitorous bitch because of it.”

He throws a ring box at me, and I look down at it with trepidation as the tears fall from my eyes. While I continue to stare at the box he whispers, “It took me so long to find a ring that is almost as beautiful as you.” 

I slowly open the box, and as I do, the inside lights up showcasing a gorgeous diamond flanked by two emeralds on each side and tiny diamonds wrapping all the way around the band. It is absolutely the most exquisite ring I have ever seen—it quite literally takes my breath away. I close the box and take a deep breath, afraid to look at him; I can’t bear to see the pain, anger, and betrayal in his eyes.

“Michael, you’re angry right now, and you have every right to be. Please listen to me,
hear
me.
I
did not
do this
. I had no knowledge that any of this was happening. You
know
me, Michael Matthews. You know my heart down to the depths of my soul, and deep down you know I am telling you the God’s honest truth.  I’m going to go home, pack my stuff, and move in here today. When my dad gets back from the Bahamas, I’m going to confront him to find out what is going on. Believe in me, baby,
please
believe in us. I couldn’t love anyone in the world more than I love you.”

I’m a mess—a complete sobbing, hysterical mess. My dad has wrecked any chance I had at happiness.
How could he do this to them?
They are the most decent, honest family I have ever known and he has destroyed them.

Shaking his head, Michael snatches the ring back from my hand and puts it in his bag. “I loved you more than anything in the world, Katherine, but time won’t change this. Even if you didn’t know—and I’m not convinced that you’re innocent in this—your dad did. I can never be a part of his world, or his family, and that means I can’t be with you. Please don’t contact me again and don’t even think about trying to come to the funeral; you and your father
are not
welcome.” He grabs his bag and walks out the door, never looking back. I flop myself back on the bed and cry until there are no more tears.

Chapter 1 - Michael 3 years later

Las Vegas, also known as Sin City, is my current job location for the next few days. How could anyone not love a city whose entire motto is ‘what happens here, stays here’? I’m staying at the MGM Grand this time around. When I come with the guys they like to stay at the newest hotels, but I like the MGM. It’s not
that
old, and you just can’t beat a hotel where there’s a bartender who not only knows your name, but also remembers your drink order no matter how long it’s been since your last visit.

I checked in late last night after work and crashed as soon as I got here. Today is Friday and I don’t have to be back at the site until tomorrow. I spent most of the day at the pool relaxing. Vegas in January
is usually freezing, but today it was actually hovering around seventy-three, and that was nice enough for me to babe watch from a pool side cabana. I need a new distraction—someone who can keep my mind off of Katherine.

It’s been almost four years, but lately I’ve been thinking about her daily. Hell, I have
always
thought about her daily, but now she haunts my mind every waking second of the day. I wish I was lucky enough to avoid her in my sleep, but it’s even worse then. My dreams are filled with visions of her laughing and of us making love; those dreams are the best because I can actually feel the emotion in them. Before the dream ends, it is always the same—the dream morphs into the day we broke up, the day I left her shattered in pieces, then all that happiness evaporates into a gut-searing pain. I wake up in a cold fucking sweat
Every. Single. Night.
Lately, the dreams are getting even more vivid and they seem to last a lot longer. I wonder how many times I can relive seeing the heartbreak in her eyes and feel the pain crushing through my soul.

It really doesn’t help that tomorrow is her birthday, but that’s why I volunteered to come out here this weekend—so that I would be sure to stay far away from Los Angeles. I know, without a doubt, if I had stayed home I would’ve gone to Connor’s party and gotten drunk. Anytime an emotional anniversary comes up it seems like Connor is having a party that weekend. As much as I tell myself I won’t drink, I always do, to the point of oblivion. Well, up until six months ago that is. Up until I fucked Vanessa right under Daniel’s nose. To be fair, I would’ve never been with her on a good day sober or drunk. She’s a grade
A bitch, and I still wonder if she didn’t slip something in my drink that night because even drunk, I have
never
not known who I was fucking.

The best thing that came out of that night was Daniel finally breaking up with her. It killed us all to see how much she continually used him for his money. I get that she comes from trailer trash, drug addict parents who are barely conscious of what day it is, but she didn’t have to be vindictive and act like life owes her something. I grew up privileged, but I left it all behind and built myself up from the bottom after Katherine and I broke up. Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me and helped me grow into the man I was meant to be.

I need this weekend to be all about pleasure,
my
pleasure. Hopefully that will keep Katherine Moore out of my head once and for all. I’m looking forward to just losing myself in someone. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s pleasing women in bed, but in order to do that I need to find the right kind of girl. I don’t want a girl that’s going to want to latch on, or one that wants to exchange phone numbers. Hell, I’m perfectly fine with not even knowing her name because half the time I don’t remember it anyway. It always amazes me how gullible some women are. They are so easily excited when you call them by an endearing name. They have no clue I call them sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, sunshine, precious, beautiful or darling because I have forgotten their names. The goal for tonight is to find a hot girl with a nice ass and a great rack that I can bend over and fuck the living daylights out of. I prefer one I can tie to my bed so I can have complete control. It’s not like I have a fetish or anything, I just really don’t like to be caressed and touched a lot. I don’t like or want intimacy with my sex, not since Katherine. I just want to take them hard and rough. Believe it or not, girls love it. I’m great at giving multiple orgasms which is a skill I have developed over time. That’s another thing I regret about Katherine, I never tried to give her multiples. That’s something I would’ve loved to watch. Even after all this time I have never seen anyone come the way she did, it was exquisite. Just thinking about it now, years later, still makes me hard.
Damn it
. I need to get drunk fast so I can push her to the back of my mind; I’m so tired of thinking about her.

When the elevator doors open, my mood lightens up. I love casinos. Even the overwhelming smell of smoke is okay because it’s all part of the atmosphere. Vegas
is truly the place where no one gives a fuck what anyone does, how they dress, or how they act. If you aren’t walking around drunk, you’re not doing Vegas right. Already there are girls eyeing me up—I know they think I’m hot and tonight I play it up to my advantage. It’s not like I’m even slightly conceited, but I’ve been asked  many times if I’m a long lost Hemsworth brother and I
know
girls think
they’re
hot.

Tonight I’m wearing a very tight black t-shirt that grips all of my muscles, a comfortable pair of blue jeans, and my black Dr. Martens. The tattoos on my arms are visible and my hair is styled with just a little bit of gel in that way girls tell me is ’just so hot’. Personally, I don’t really care how my hair looks—I’m more than happy to just buzz it off—but the one time I did, I seriously lacked in hookups for two months while it grew back. Who would have thought a guy’s hair would make that much of a difference to girls?

I take a seat at my favorite bar and throw some money in the video poker machine while waiting for the bartender to make his way down here. I love this place; by the time Dave comes down he’s already got my drink in his hand. “Hey, Mike. How’s it going, man? I got your gin and tonic, Bombay Sapphire with limes of course.”

I take the drink and shake his hand. “Thanks, Dave. It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s great to see you again. By the way, I’m placing my bet now. Judging by your appearance tonight, I give it forty-five minutes before you’re on your way back up with a beautiful girl, so I’m going to keep your drinks coming. I know you like a good buzz before leaving the bar.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Ah, the all-knowing bartender has placed his bets. You know I’d hate to disappoint you, so how about you pour me a double shot now so I can step up my game.”

Dave gives me a knowing look and pours the shot. “Okay, man, you’re all set. You’re already getting an audience behind you. If I were you, I would hit the girl in red—she’s a regular and used to the no strings thing. You got condoms this time or do you need me to hit the bar stash again?”

Man, he really doesn’t forget a thing.
“Nah, man, I’m good. I brought some this time. Last time, the airport lost my luggage and my condoms along with it; just another reason why I would rather drive.”

“I hear you, just nod at me if you need another. I
gotta get back to the other end of the bar.”

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later three girls walk up and sit next to me at the bar. One of them is stunning in a green low-cut dress. Unfortunately, she looks a little like Katherine and is immediately
not
an option. There’s a cute girl in jeans, Chucks, and a nice button-down shirt. I would
love
to take her upstairs, but she’s shy, and shy girls equals needy girls. I don’t do needy girls; they’re too emotional and make me feel bad when I have to tell them I only want sex. I’m always honest, and it doesn’t always go over well, but I figure they should know the deal up front. The only exception to that was Misty and that’s a mistake that still weighs heavily on my mind. Another one to add to the ‘someday make amends’ pile. That pile seems to be getting excessively large, but there’s no time to think about that right now.

The girl in red is the first one to speak to me. She’s got a throaty, sexy voice and she oozes sex appeal. She definitely isn’t the most attractive of the three, but she’s in no way ugly. Giving her the onceover, I can tell immediately she’s confident, probably well off—judging by the designer ‘come fuck me’ shoes she has on—and she definitely looks up for a good time. This is exactly the kind of girl I can tie up. Her rack is okay but her ass is to die for. Her strawberry-blonde hair is from a bottle for sure and she has big expressive brown eyes. She’s just the kind of distraction I need tonight.

“Hi, I’m Sara. Mind if I sit here next to you or is your girlfriend in the restroom?” Smooth—getting the girlfriend question out of the way in the introduction. Yeah, this girl
definitely
gets around.

“Sure, Sara, have a seat. There’s no girlfriend, just me. Can I buy you and your friends a drink?” The girls giggle, and I flag Dave over to take their orders. “Bill them all to my room, okay, Dave? Whatever these three lovely ladies want is on me tonight.”

“Gotcha, Mike.”

“So, Mike, are you visiting or do you live around here?”

I flash her a smile, showing off my dimples which tends to reel girls in. “I’m here for work but just for the weekend. I decided to come down to the bar and see what kind of trouble I can get myself into tonight.”

Sara’s friends are blushing and giggling, but Sara’s eyes are locked on mine—she’s definitely interested. “Well, I’m
sure
I can get you into all kinds of trouble if you’re interested.”

Nice. She doesn’t beat around the bush. Leaning in real close, I whisper to her, “I don’t play games, Sara. I’m not the kind of guy that will give you my number, and no matter how good you fuck me, that won’t change. What I
will
do is give you multiple orgasms and pay for your cab home if you want to come up to my room and let me fuck you senseless.”

I see a flush creep up her cheeks. She immediately pounds her drink, and turns to her friends, telling them they can leave and she’ll meet up with them later. The girls thank me for the drinks and head off to the slots. When Sara turns my way I can see desire flaming in her eyes.

Dave comes back up and brings me another double shot. “Damn, thirty minutes, where does the time go?” Sara shoots him an odd look, but I just laugh as he walks away. Guess I have fifteen minutes left on the clock.

“Mike, I like that you’re honest, so I’ll be honest as well. Here are the ground rules: I don’t need your number, I don’t even need you to remember my name. In fact, I might call you someone
else’s
name and you’re just going to have to be okay with that because old habits die hard. I don’t do anal, I won’t swallow unless it’s a relationship, and I won’t fuck without condoms. Deal?”

Hell yeah, that’s a deal
and
a huge turn on. I’ve never been with a girl who’s this up front. “Deal, let’s go.” I throw a fifty dollar bill down for Dave and nod my head as he looks at me with admiration in his eyes as I walk off with Sara.

Walking to the elevators, I can feel the gin kicking in—definitely not drunk, but hella buzzed and feeling no pain. Sara is a class act, which is a welcome change. She isn’t groping me in the elevator, she’s not trying to hold my hand, and she isn’t trying to make out yet, all of which is fine with me. My room is all the way at the end of the hall. I open the door for her and give her a minute to look around.

“Nice room, Mike. Not every guy splurges on a spa suite.”

Walking up to her from behind, I move her hair out of the way and kiss her neck. “Well, I like to have a nice room to bring the ladies back to. Sometimes they like to clean up after I get them dirty.”

Her body relaxes into mine, and I know I’ve got her right where I want her, so why do I suddenly feel nauseous?  I’m sure it will pass. I turn her around and kiss her. Immediately, she thrusts her tongue into my mouth—which isn’t the biggest turn on—but whatever, different strokes for different folks. I back away a little bit and slow the kiss down. Trailing a line of kisses from her jaw line to her ear, nibbling on it just a little bit, I notice that smell. Not a bad smell at all. On the contrary, an all too familiar smell—one that I’ve missed so much, and now the nausea is coming in waves and I can’t hold it back anymore. I run to the bathroom and throw up over and over again.

Sara is standing in the doorway. “Um, Sara, I’m really sorry but I think you better go.”

Looking down at me, she seems pissed. I can’t say I blame her. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. You didn’t
seem
drunk, but I hope you are because I don’t need to get the flu. Have a nice night, Mike.”

I hear the door close as I vomit again. Once I’m done emptying the contents of my stomach, I take my clothes off and lie down in bed.

I’m not sick and I’m not drunk, not even close, but the smell of gardenias was too much. How did I not smell it until now? The one weekend I need to have Katherine completely out of my head and away from my heart and she comes slamming back into my life like a hurricane in the form of some damn perfume.
What the fuck?
It all comes rolling back to me and I curl up like a little kid and cry, finally letting it all out again after almost four years. I can feel all the emotions—how much I loved her, how what happened between us broke my heart, and how much I kick myself in the ass daily for ever letting my mom’s doubts consume my mind. I should’ve cooled down and apologized to her. I know I shattered her heart and soul. I was so cruel to her with the ring—taunting her, teasing her. Instead of throwing it in her face, I should’ve dropped to my knees and
begged
her to marry me. I should’ve told her life was too short, especially in light of what happened. I should’ve done a lot of things and I didn’t.
I’m such a fucking dumb ass.