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Authors: J.L. Mac

Tags: #Contemporary

Seven Years of Bad Luck (36 page)

BOOK: Seven Years of Bad Luck
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“I don’t know much more than that. I’m on my way to get you. We have to get to the hospital to find out if he is hurt badly.” Cheyenne hung up while I sat on my couch looking catatonic as Cheyenne later described it. Her words sank in; my heart began beating wildly.

My stomach turned, and I was very close to being sick. I knew without a doubt that if Murray had arranged for someone to attack Ben, he would certainly be hurt badly. I recalled the injuries I endured, and I grimaced, imagining Ben with those types of injuries. I would be destroyed if I lost Ben. I knew I didn’t have him physically, but emotionally? I had him. In my heart, Ben was mine, and I was his. I made the mistake of letting circumstances dictate my life and in the process, pushed away the man I loved, the father of my unborn child. With the time and space between us, I realized how much I was really capable of missing a person. I physically ached for him most days, and the nights were always far worse. I ached to feel him, to see him, to smell him, to hear him breathing beside me. Sometimes my chest felt so heavy with grief and loss that I thought that filling my lungs with air was an impossible task.

It hurt to breathe, to think, to exist without him. Distance and time always has a way of putting things into perspective for the misguided. Misguided was merely one way to describe me. When I was with him before, it was easy to get lost in the bad things. I was enraptured with those bad things. I was trapped in my past, and I allowed my irrational need for revenge to destroy the future that was practically kicking down the door to my heart. I was so occupied with the wrong things that I missed the signs that told me I didn’t need to be my old self, and I didn’t need to finish anything when it came to my abduction and the people involved. Ben had fallen for the current me.

He wanted the current me. Not the me I was before seven years of bad luck erased who I was. He made it clear that he saw glimpses of who I was before, and he wanted me just the way I was when we met at that book store. I wished every moment of every day that I could go back in time to change things instead of being disgusted with myself for ruining the very best thing that had ever happened to me. With Ben out of my life as if he were never really there, all the bad from my past that loomed over me got swallowed up by pure and absolute longing. I knew I’d rather long for him for the rest of my life and never have him again, than to have him and be stuck were I was with an agenda that only included what I thought I wanted, not what I needed.

I waited for Cheyenne to show up, and I prayed that when I arrived at the hospital to see the man I loved, the heart in his chest would still be beating. Cheyenne burst into the apartment that we use to share together.

“Let’s go,” she ordered. I stood from the couch on my shaky legs and numbly followed her. My mind raced, thinking of all the horrible scenarios that might await me at the hospital. I couldn’t bear it if Ben died without my telling him exactly how sorry I was for being so dumb and how much I loved him. Cheyenne drove like a madwoman while I sat beside her, trying my best to pull myself together. I was so lost in my own head that I hadn’t even noticed that we came to a stop in front of Ben’s house and parked beside Tucker’s truck. “We gotta run in and get Tucker; he’s been working on something for Ben. I tried calling him, but his phone is off. Hurry,” Cheyenne rambled. I grabbed my purse, leaped from Cheyenne’s car without hesitation and trailed behind her to Ben’s door. Without knocking she strode right in, and I followed. “Tuck?” she shouted through the foyer.

“In here,” Tucker’s deep voice boomed from the sitting room. We walked to the sitting room, and just before we entered, Cheyenne turned to face me. She grabbed me by my shoulders and looked me squarely in the eyes.

“I love you, Kat. You can be pissed but you’ll thank me some day.”

What?

Without further explanation, Cheyenne stepped behind me. She gripped me by the shoulders and steered me into the sitting room where I saw Tucker sitting across from the most beautiful sight I could have imagined.

 

 

 

There he was. My Ben on his sofa with his head in his hands, and he looked like the most beautiful, disheveled, out-of-sorts man that I had ever laid eyes on. He was wearing pajama pants that I could see hung lazily off his hips. He wore a white undershirt that had seen better days. The stubble that had grown to a suitable beard appeared to be at least a week old. His hair was disorderly in the most delectable way. My fingers ached to run through his thick, wavy, chocolate brown locks. Ben dropped his hands from his head and looked up at me while I stood motionless, doing all I could to not faint.

“Not hurt,” I mumbled.

“Sorry,” Cheyenne and Tucker said in unison as they slipped from view. A second or two later, I heard the heavy front door open and shut. Ben and I stared at each other for what felt like ages. Finally he spoke.

“I had no idea they did this. Tuck just told me what they had done when you walked in the door.” He put up his hands defensively. I continued staring in silence. “But you came,” Ben stated looking somewhat puzzled.

“You’re not hurt.” My voice came out broken.

I’m gonna kill Chey!

Ben shrugged. “No, not physically.” I winced at his implication. A tsunami of emotion crested and toppled over me. My composure crumbled, and my legs moved of their own volition, taking me to where he sat. I was sent crashing into Ben on the couch thanks to the momentum that drove me towards him. The familiar strong arms that I loved to be wrapped in encased my shuddering body.

“Hey. I’m okay.” His warm breath caressed the shell of my ear. I began sobbing and hiccoughing, and if I had been in anyone else’s presence, I would have been mortified at my emotional display.

“She, they, they said you were h-hurt. I thought maybe y-you were…” The words sputtered out of my mouth through sobs and sniffles. His arms held me tightly to his body.

“They shouldn’t have done that to you. I know how you feel. Thinking the worst.” His words and the memory of him telling me how he went out of his mind while I was missing caused my body to shudder and shake even harder. My Ben always did know how to read me like a book.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he cooed into my ear. “Come on. I’ll get you some tissue and something to drink.” He held me tightly to his side as he stood lifting us both from his couch. I was instantly reminded of my pregnant belly that was hidden discretely beneath the oversized hooded sweater I wore. When we stood together, my junky purse fell from my lap, and the contents went skittering across Ben’s floor.

“I got it,” I quickly volunteered then crouched down and began shoving things back into my bag with shaky hands. I finished picking up the mess, and Ben gripped his long fingers around my elbow and guided me into his kitchen.

“What would you like to drink? I think I still have a bottle of that wine you liked. A drink to relax might help,” he mumbled while his eyes scanned the refrigerator in his luxurious kitchen.

“Um, no thanks. No wine.”

Not since August 23
rd
when I found out about our baby, actually
, I quipped inwardly.

“What would you like then?” he asked while looking through his refrigerator.

“Water is fine.” Ben took out a bottle of water and slid it to me across his granite counter. I squirmed uncomfortably, not completely sure what I should say to him. “Thanks.” That was all I could come up with. It was pathetic, and I knew it.

It was painfully obvious why Cheyenne had gone to such drastic, insane, awful, cruel, measures to get the two of us into the same room. She wanted me to tell Ben about the baby and confess to him how much I loved him. I just wasn’t at all sure if I was ready to say those things. I hadn’t planned on seeing him today. I had no idea how I should tell this man what I needed to say. He noticed my fidgeting as he watched me closely.

“Let’s go back and sit down.” I glanced up at him, and I knew that he knew something was up.

“Okay,” I agreed weakly. His hand rested on the small of my back as I had come to expect him to do, but this time his touch made my body hum with pent-up emotion and physical desire. We sat down on the couch with plenty of space between us. He handed me a huge wad of tissues and kept watching me closely as he always did.

“Since you’re here, I need some answers, Kathleen.”

What?
My brows furrowed.

“What? Why?”

He drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Because I need to know a few things so that I can have some closure.”

Closure? Ouch!

I was sure that I winced at his mention of closure. So he has moved on. On the inside I slumped forward, gathered my head in my hands, and cried uncontrollably. But that was just on the inside. The outside was a different story. I sat as straight backed as I could and put on the bravest face I could pull together.

“Fine. Fire away, Ben.” I huffed and blotted away the tears on my face.

“First and foremost, why did you quit the firm?”

Oh crap, here we go
.

I inhaled deeply and set my water down on the coffee table. “You know why I quit, Ben.” His jaw tightened.

“Are you fucking him? Are you back with Aidan?” My brows knitted together, and I felt my cheeks redden as my temper flared.

“Fuck you, Ben!” I shouted as I crossed and uncrossed my arms in frustration.

“You didn’t answer the question.” His tone was menacingly low, causing all my tears and sadness to temporarily ebb away, leaving only my steadily rising anger.

“Not that it’s any business of yours, but no, I’m not fucking Aidan or anyone else for that matter. Aidan transferred here, and we are just friends, Ben. Which is more than I can say for you and me.” He closed his eyes tightly for a moment at my verbal jab.

“Fine, why haven’t I seen you anywhere? I have gone to the coffee shop we like nearly every day, and I have yet to see you there.”

Doctor says caffeine is not good for the baby.

“Going there reminded me of you, so I found another coffee shop.” I shrugged casually as I lied. I made sure to avoid Ben’s skeptical stare since I knew how easily he could peer into my head.

“Okay. Why haven’t you called me?” My head snapped back in shock.

“What?! Me contact you? I really don’t think your lovely lady friend would appreciate your ex fuck buddy contacting you.” He narrowed his eyes on me.

“Don’t dare refer to yourself that way. You were far more than a fuck buddy as you so eloquently put it.” He growled at me with a stern finger pointed in my direction, and I lost a measure of courage.

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes dismissively.

“You think I’m seeing someone?”

Please don’t make me do this,
I pleaded inwardly. I inhaled and shut my eyes trying to picture a relaxing scene, but only came up with the memory of the leggy brunette kissing Ben on the cheek. “I saw you,” I whispered with my eyes still sealed shut. Ben slid across the cushions closer to me.

“You saw me doing what, might I ask?” His voice had softened, and I wanted nothing more than to melt into him.

“I came to see you in August, and I saw you drive up with a pretty brunette in your car. She kissed you on the cheek. She looked smitten with you.” Tears began gathering again, so I turned away from Ben and fidgeted with nonexistent lint on my comfortable belly-accommodating yoga pants.

I shook my head and kept my focus fixed on my pants leg. I felt him slide even closer to me. He was so close to my side that I felt the warmth radiating from his body.

“What’s going on with you, Kathleen?” he asked softly. I stilled my hands.

Tell him!
My conscience screamed at me. I shook my head. “Nothing is going on with me, Ben. I’m fine.” Even I heard the lack of conviction in my voice. I was far from fine. I was anything but fine. I was heartbroken, moderately depressed, pregnant with Ben’s baby, unemployed, and a host of other things too innumerable to list. Ben backed away from me, and tears streamed down my conflicted face. I couldn’t stave off my emotions anymore. Ben pushed me further.

“No, you are not! Tell me now, Kathleen,” he demanded in a stern voice. “I won’t accept any more bullshit from you! I deserve some answers, not this crap you’ve been handing me!”

Oh, fuck it!

I turned in my seat so that my shoulders were squared with his and let the flood gates open. Tears streamed freely like rivers down my face as I disintegrated before him. “What do want me to say Ben? What the hell do you want to hear? Huh? You want to hear that I am utterly broken? Depressed, miserable without you? Hmm? That you are all I think about? That I lie awake at night thinking about your skin against mine and that it makes my body ache? Literally fucking ache to feel your touch!” I widened my eyes and raised my brows dramatically. “Or maybe you want to hear the whole screwed up truth about my past and why I’m stuck there! Okay, fine! Let’s see if this helps you get some closure!” His face went blank, and I overrode his attempt to interrupt.

“Kat—”

“Nope! You asked for it, Ben. You’re getting it.” I bombarded him with all the terrible truths about my past. I told him about neglecting my dreams and hating myself for having spent so much time with a man who betrayed me. When I told him about the baby I had lost, his shoulders slumped, and sympathy filled his eyes.

BOOK: Seven Years of Bad Luck
9.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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