Inner Core: (Stark, #2) (19 page)

It should be the other way around.

“I was deeply in pain. My head was throbbing and my face was covered with blood, but mostly the pain was from being so easily…rejected, unwanted.”

I saw on my fingernail with my teeth, tense, gloomy and feeling disgusted.

“But I hate him deeply because of how he treated Iris when she came to see what was going on. She was panicking, shaking, finding us in that chaos. And when she tried to talk some sense into him, asking him to help me, to take me to the hospital, he shoved her away. I was helpless, lying on the floor, unable to help her. That was the exact moment in which any respect or good feeling I’ve ever had for him turned into loathing.” His features harden. “Like I said, this was a life-changing occasion for me, Hales. I turned violent. The fact that I didn’t have a stable home for next few years just intensified it, made me angrier, bitter and introverted. My temper was my guide for the longest time. It was my solution for everything, it helped me keep everyone away. I was an angry kid that grew up to be a problematic and violent teen, and eventually an adult with a very short fuse. Hales, I used to lash out at people for no reason at all. There was a point in my life where I used to fight people in special clubs just for the sake of releasing anger. It was never about anything but getting hurt and hurting other people. Releasing violence.”

He searches my eyes for my reaction. I blink and my eyes water and turn soft. I slide the hand that's on his waist farther back and pull myself over to him, closing the gap between us. I hold his troubled face in both hands and kiss him with everything I have.

Here it is, Hales, a rare glance at Daniel’s inner core. Rough, violent, powerful, emotional, kind, and … hurt.

When I pull back a little, he continues.

“My second turning point was a good one. The day I signed the ownership papers for my company. That day I made an oath to myself that I would do everything I could to change myself for the better. I decided to quit the fighting, which was a very hard thing to do—I even went to therapy for a while.”

I kiss his lips again, assuring him that I understand and that I'm proud of what he did.

Abruptly his serious expression becomes bothered but amused, and he lets out a short snicker and shakes his head.

“It took me a few years and a hell of a lot of money to be able to say it out loud: I am angry.

Well, I know I’m still impulsive and high tempered, but Hales, I try. Especially after meeting you.”

“Daniel, you're everything I want. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
And I love you
,
especially now, after what you’ve just shared with me.

“And you know something, baby? There was another significant changing point for me. This one changed what I was, well … what I wanted. What I thought I wanted further down the line.”

I swallow and blink, waiting for him to go on.

“You know, it was in one of those meaningless conversations that we had. I don’t even remember what the fuck we were talking about, but I do remember that in the middle of that conversation I felt like I wanted it to go on forever, so that you'd never have to go away.” He scoots over to press his lips briefly to mine, but at this point I want more. I
need
more.

“So baby, this is me, all of me. I know nothing can even begin to come close to what we’ve been through so far and I know it's hard to overlook.” He brings his hands to my face and holds it between them.

Here are all of his imperfections and insecurities, out in the open, and all I can think of is how they make me feel more connected to him, intensifying my already strong feelings toward him.

“You need to let your fears go and your guard down. I promise you I will do everything I can to make this work.” 

And for the first time I feel confident about him, us. I nod, too overtaken by emotions to respond verbally.

“Are you okay?” he asks, changing the subject, letting me process everything he just shared with me, not pushing for an immediate response, which I couldn’t be more thankful for.

I nod. “I’m more than okay, I’m grateful.” When my voice goes silent, his forehead creases. “For you to trust me, to care as much as you do, and share all of this with me.” He gifts me with a boyish side smile.

“I do care that much,” he says. I reach for him and nestle in his waiting embrace. He nuzzles my hair and I close my eyes, dissolving into him.

“Why do you call your mom by her first name?” I say to his chest. He thinks for a second.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s because she's so much more than just a mom…” I lift my head to look at him. “She is, she’s always been, my… everything.” I melt inside and radiate it to him with a loving smile. “My everything before you came along.” And his smile back at me makes my heart flutter.

“It was just the two of us. We were so close. And as I grew up, she turned into my best friend.”

I kiss his lips, deeply and eagerly. I need to connect with him—I need him. He is so much more,
my
so much more.

I rest my head on my pillow and run my eyes across his face. He smiles back at me. “Did your dad ever reach out to you later in life?” I ask.

“Did he…” A scornful resentment hovers above the words. “He did, Hales. Right after I rang the bell on Nasdaq, he did.” I inhale deeply, and when I’m about to comment, he adds, “I didn't back then, and still don't want anything to do with him.” I nod, caressing his face with my gaze.

“So now that we're done with tonight’s special: 60 Minutes Stark Fuckedupness, what do you want to do for the rest of the weekend?”

“Close the door and leave the world outside?”

“Couldn’t think of a better option, baby.”

Chapter 21: Open Matter

That night was a turning point for me. For us. Having Daniel open up like that, learning about his physical and emotional scars, it changes things. In the weeks to follow we leave the world outside and become almost inseparable. Day-to-day, in order to function, we become co-dependent, seeking out each other’s company in a way we never have before.

We consciously don’t see other people. Social requirements are kept to a minimum. The house becomes our haven. Like two smitten teenagers, we can’t get enough of each other. Even the simplest of tasks are done together, from cooking to working at home to taking showers. And sex,
holy mother of god, the scorching sex.
I think that if I weren't on the pill we could have easily populated a small country by now. Between us we joke about the fact that we’ve become disgustingly, cornily cheesy, even borderline nauseating. And though these are not the best of times, they're far from being the worst of times, they are absolutely
our
times.

I haven’t seen Tasha and Ian for, well, almost forever. Needless to say, I get my share of well-deserved whining from them both. Complaints that are spat at me without an ounce of mercy, even for the sake of the good ol’ L word.

Hardly a week after Daniel and I start our lockdown, Tasha phones to say she was about to post my face on a milk carton. “Your ugly face,” are her exact words.

I’m snapped back to the present by the sound of my colleagues’ laughter, becoming more and more irritated with the task I’m currently doing. I have an urge to shut off the PC, maybe even yank the cable out of the wall, then grab my purse and get the hell out. Instead, like the true rebel that I am, I wheel my chair back and push myself up. I stride to the kitchen, peeved by the amount of time I've wasted so far and will be wasting on such a Sisyphean task. I tap the button on the coffee machine and bend to fetch milk from the mini fridge. I shake the carton, to find that there's only a drop left and almost growl, really wanting to scream 'fuck' at the top of my lungs. I end up just tossing the carton in the trash can, though with a vengeance.

“Woah, should I duck?” Mathew, one of my coworkers, smirks at me with his hands up in surrender, flipping his hair Bieber-style. I covertly roll my eyes but quickly smile.

“One of those days.” I shrug, trying to show some friendliness. 

“Want to grab lunch together?” He asks a tad too enthusiastically. Surprised by his eagerness, I furrow my eyebrows and study him for a moment too long, making everything kind of awkward.

“No is also an answer,” he says, smiling, and his cheeks take on a faint, rosy color. 

I force on a smile and try to make it look even the least bit genuine. I say, “Maybe some other time.”

“Okay then,” he says uneasily, clapping once, his entire body radiating discomfort. Then out of nowhere, to my complete surprise, he tugs on my pulled up hair.

The hell?

I’m not sure who’s mortified more by this infantile act: him, or me
for
him. Thankfully, he just nods and quickly makes himself scarce. I shake my head and reach for a bottle of water. A short snort and a giggle escape my mouth. I feel sorry for the guy.
Ian and Tash will love this little anecdote
. But when I get back to my assignment, my annoyance returns much too quickly.

My phone chimes and prompts me to unglue my eyes from the monitor. Seeing Daniel’s name on the display always comes with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
No, not pathetic at all.

“Hey.”

“Hey back, beautiful,” he says. Deep inside, I heave a molten, feminine sigh.

Yep, definitely pathetic.

“Any chance you're coming over for lunch?”

“Define lunch,” I purr.

A low, husky chuckle comes from the other end. “I might also let you eat. Depends how satiated
I’ll
be.”

“Wow, thank you. You are far, far too kind, Mr. Stark. Am I due for a performance evaluation?”

He chuckles again. “So, you coming?”

“Umm, will I? Be coming?”

“Hayley…” I laugh it off.

“Isn’t making you cum my middle name?” We chuckle in unison. Though, truth be told, the man did earn the name, with great aptitude.

“So?”

“Mr. Stark…” A feminine voice meows on the other end, absurdly, making me slightly more alert.

“I’ll call for you later, Jasmine.”

“Did she just
meow
at you?”

“What?” he snaps.

“Nothing.” Glad he didn’t pay too much attention to that one. “I don’t think I'll be able to make it, there’s this annoying thing I need to do, it’ll take me ages, and I need it done today.”

“What is it, exactly?”

“Aren’t you busy? Do you really care?”

“Yeah, I'm busy. Tell me.” Short and impassive.
Okay…
And I elaborate on the less than remotely interesting subject.

“Okay, so it’s only in these ten websites, you say? I’ll call you back, go get something to drink meanwhile.” And he's gone.

Huh?

I pass by Josh’s office to catch up on a report we should prepare for management, just to make sure I have everything he wants covered. With his confirmation I leave to share it with the relevant people from our team. When I get back to my desk, more than half an hour later, I notice that I’ve missed a call from Daniel.

“Daniel?”

“So, I’m sending you this program. I’ll tell you how to install it, it’ll do the search for the data.”

“What? Software? Do what?” I hear a piqued sigh from his end.

“Open the email I’ve sent you five minutes ago, and just do what I tell you.”

He guides me for several minutes. I’m clueless about what he wants me to do, and he is less than patient when explaining.

I grin hugely as I look at the small, dark window running data on my desktop. “So basically it’ll do the search for me?”

“Yes.” I can just see the eye roll that was uttered with.

I giggle. “Oh my god, you are like the hottest computer geek alive.”

“So are you coming now?” he says, dry and impatient.

“On my way,” I say with a full-blown smirk.

“Can I go in?” I ask Anne, Daniel’s PA. She stands up for no apparent reason and smiles, her usual edgy smile.

“Miss Grace, he should be done shortly, but you can go in.”

“It’s Hayley…” As if this will ever register with her, no matter how many times I insist.
Why do I even bother?

The door to Daniel’s office is half open. I take one step in and freeze. They don’t notice me, but I can see them clearly, and something unbidden and bad, very bad, shoots through me.

There’s a curvy butt raised high over the desk, clad in a tight knee-length skirt that salutes me as I look ahead. A pair of never-ending legs in black stockings continue from the skirt and end with mile high, thin heels. The body attached to the sexy butt is bent over the desk, cleavage almost touching what’s mine’s nose. She utters a familiar meow while a hand with very red nails moves over Daniel’s hand, which rests on a mouse. The woman in front of me could not be more flirtatious; she’s literally throwing mating signals all over the place. From where I stand I can’t see Daniel’s expression, or his face for that matter, as it’s hidden behind a large monitor, though I
can
see that his hand is trying to move out from under the talons that trap it.

Numerous emotions run through me; the one that stays triggers the creep of acid up my throat. The thought that I’ve managed to cage at the back of my mind wakes up with a roar, and I can’t help but think,
Could this meowing butt be the one he slept with?
Something takes over me, something very irrational, ugly and unfamiliar. On impulse, I nearly turn on my heels, when Daniel's voice stops me.

“Hales?” In tandem with his question, the butt pivots at the waist to look at me, and her face just adds the few drops of oil to intensify the fire spreading wildly inside me. Her dark, shiny hair is pulled into a tight bun. She has on a pair of those thick black plastic glasses that reminds me of those me-and-my-boss porn movies, and the reddest lips. A part of me, the rational part, kisses confidence and trust bye-bye and dies, but not before asking me to strangle the man who seeded these fears in my consciousness to begin with. I’m aware that a suicidal train wreck is about to happen, but stopping it is beyond me.