Authors: Jami Alden
In her jealous fury, it hadn’t even occurred to her to talk to him. All she’d wanted was to get back at him. To make him feel some tiny bit of the pain she was feeling, even if it was only his pride that was hurt.
So she’d made a big entrance, greeting everyone loudly, doing a little bump and grind on the dance floor until she was sure Mike had seen her. Then she’d found Jeremy and proceeded to get her revenge.
Except she’d chosen poorly. She’d only meant to flirt a little, bat her eyelashes, maybe a dirty dance or two, just enough to incite Mike’s jealousy so he’d whisk her away.
But it was Jeremy who had whisked her away. Or dragged her off to one of the bedrooms was more like it. Jeremy didn’t like to be teased, and he didn’t like girls messing around with his friends. And he’d viewed it as his duty to teach Karen a lesson.
Jeremy wasn’t as big as Mike, but at 5’3” and not much over a hundred and ten pounds, she hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight.
Bile rose in Karen’s throat as she remembered the reek of beer on his breath, his stubby fingers with their chewed-up nails pawing at her breasts and shoving inside of her. Her skin still crawled, and she rolled over on the bed, remembering the tearing, the burning pain of him forcing himself inside her, his sweaty palm over her mouth to muffle her screams.
Then Mike’s face as she’d stumbled out of the room, the look of disgust that had made her want to die on the spot.
“Mike, please,” she said.
Jeremy had been right behind her, Karen’s bra dangling from his fingertips. “Sorry, man, she couldn’t keep her hands off me.”
“Mike, please,” she said again. “You have to listen. He—”
“I should have known,” he cut her off. “I should have listened to what everyone said about you.”
She remembered staggering toward him, hand out as she clutched at his arm like a lifeline.
He’d shaken her off like a gnat. The expression on his face said she was lower than an insect. She was filth. She was dirt.
Without another word, he’d turned his back on her sobbing pleas.
At that moment everything had shattered inside her. To this day, she still didn’t know what had scarred her more, the horrific feeling of powerlessness and violation or the knowledge that Mike had never loved her. That he’d thought so little of her, he wouldn’t even entertain her explanations. As far as he was concerned, she was the slut everyone called her.
The worst part was that she had believed it herself.
E
leven years later, the unclean feeling had finally ebbed, but now renewed anger and guilt were sharp in her chest. Fury at Jeremy for thinking he had the right to hurt her, to teach her a lesson. Anger at Mike for not even bothering to listen, for having so little faith in her that he hadn’t realized how badly she was hurt.
And guilt that she’d let her feelings of insecurity drive her to put herself in such a vulnerable position.
She’d thought she was over it, that with the endless hours of therapy she’d finally managed to put the past where it belonged and forgive the stupid, naïve teenager she’d been. Thought herself ready to move on and develop a happy, healthy relationship with a nice guy who really would love her for the wonderful person she was.
She shouldn’t care what Mike thought of her. It shouldn’t matter that he thought of her as a slut, the kind of woman who slept with one guy to get back at another. The kind of woman who would cheat.
Even though he’d ultimately taken over tonight, as far as he was concerned, she’d used him in her revenge on some poor unsuspecting sap who had fallen prey to her wiles.
It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Obviously, dealing with issues in the therapist’s office was one thing. Facing them and the people involved head on was quite another. Instead of trying to have a constructive conversation with Mike, she’d slipped right back into her old habits the minute she sensed a threat.
She remembered her mother’s words on her deathbed, telling Karen how much she loved her, and in the same breath how disappointed she was in the person Karen had become.
Manipulative. Cold. “Not a nice girl,” as her mother had put it. And that wasn’t even a critique on her sex life.
Karen had made a lot of mistakes. A lot of bad choices. Her mother’s death had finally forced her to confront and own up to them. Now she had to face the fact that a lot of people—herself, Mike, and her family included—had fallen victim to her bone-deep belief that no one would ever really love her. Making things right with them was going to be even harder than she’d feared.
Long-suppressed sobs tore from her chest as she ground the heels of her hands against her eyes. She hated feeling like this, hated knowing that Mike couldn’t stand her.
If only he’d been a little nicer to her.
No, this was her fault. She’d chosen to counter Mike’s barbs with her super-seductress routine. She’d had the opportunity to act different, to be different, and instead she’d slipped right back into her old tricks the moment she felt threatened.
Now she mentally castigated herself for not making the slightest effort to tell the truth that was now burning a hole in her gut.
She picked up the phone.
Kit answered on the third ring. “’Lo?”
“It’s me.”
“Kar? It’s—”
Karen looked at the clock and winced. “One-thirty. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s cool. I was up late working anyway since Jake’s in Reno for the bachelor party.”
Karen smiled. Kit, her best friend from high school, had such a different life from her own. Last year she got engaged to Jake Donovan and had moved to Boston, and her first book was coming out early next year.
“Oh yeah, I forgot he was here too,” Karen said.
Kit was absolutely silent for several seconds, then, “What do you mean, ‘too?’ Where are you?”
Karen picked nervously at a chip in her nail polish. “Kit, I did something really dumb.”
“You slept with Brad?”
“No,” she replied. “But why would that be stupid? You knew I was going away with him.”
“Yeah, but a girl can hope. Brad always sounded like a total tool. Where are you?” she repeated.
“Brad and I had a fight, and I’m staying here—look, Brad has nothing to do with this.”
“Then what?
“I ran into Mike Donovan tonight.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Did you
talk
to him?” Kit asked hopefully.
“Not really. I slept with him.”
“You dumb bitch.”
Karen winced. Kit’s direct, no-nonsense manner was what she had loved about her from the first day they met. Kit had moved to Donner Lake their sophomore year and had started dating Rick Crawford over the summer. Apparently she’d heard about Karen’s reputation, because the first day of school when they met in the bathroom, she’d introduced herself to Karen in the most pleasant manner, then calmly informed her that if she went anywhere near her boyfriend, Kit would cut her tits off.
Karen had believed her, and in that moment developed an intense same-sex crush that had grown into a friendship that had lasted nearly fifteen years. Karen had nursed Kit through her own traumatic encounter with a Donovan brother. Karen was struck again by the difference in their circumstances. While Kit’s long-ago disastrous fling with Jake had resulted in a happily ever after twelve years later, somehow Karen didn’t think Mike was going to show up on her doorstep with a ring anytime soon.
But sometimes she wished Kit’s softer, more nurturing side was a little closer to the surface. Still, she had a point.
“Yeah, I know.”
“How could you let this happen?”
“I don’t know. He was there, and he’s so gorgeous, but he’s still so angry, and I—”
“You wanted to prove that even if you couldn’t make him like you, you could make him want you?”
Ah, the blessing and the curse of having a best friend who knew her so well.
“Bingo.”
“I hope it was good,” Kit said.
“It was…intense.” Gushing warmth flooded her belly as she remembered just how intense it was. She wasn’t about to divulge the details to Kit. Her stomach clenched at his last words.
You’re still such a bitch.
“But he still thinks I’m scum, and I hate it.” Her voice broke on a sob.
“Karen, honey.” Kit’s voice immediately softened. “We’ve talked about this. You have to come clean with him. It’s eating you up inside.” Karen nodded, even though Kit couldn’t see her.
Kit was right, of course. Just as her therapist was right. She couldn’t change the past. She could only control how she behaved going forward. But to move past it she needed to set the record straight and give the people she’d hurt the chance to forgive her.
“Here’s the deal,” Kit said. “Kelly’s wedding is in two weeks. Mike will be there. You can talk to him then. And talk to Kelly while you’re at it.”
“I don’t even know if she wants me there. She only invited me because it would look weird if she didn’t,” Karen said sullenly. She cursed as she picked another chunk of polish off her toenail. Now she’d have to redo her pedicure.
Kit sighed, and Karen could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Now that’s a very evolved and enlightened attitude. And you’re probably right. I bet Kelly doesn’t give a shit if you show up or not.”
“Don’t pull any punches,” Karen snapped.
“Karen, we both know the truth. But we also know that avoiding Kelly’s wedding will not get you off to a good start if you want to salvage your relationship with her. Just like you’re going to keep feeling like shit as long as you know that Mike is out there thinking you cheated on him.”
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“He may not. Just like Kelly might not accept your belated overtures of sisterly love. But you can’t control that. You can only control what you do. Just be honest and direct and hope it works out.”
“But what if it’s not enough?”
“It has to be enough for you that you tried.”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil,” Karen said. “You’re right. But old habits die hard.”
“Yeah, but your old habits didn’t bring you much happiness, did they?”
“This better not end up in your next column,” Karen sniffed. In addition to her upcoming book, Kit wrote a sex and lifestyle advice column for
Bella
magazine, and she wasn’t above looking to her own life for inspiration.
Kit laughed softly. “You and Jake are so paranoid!”
“Yeah, only because we appear like every other month.”
“Don’t worry. If I write about you, I’ll be sure to make you completely unrecognizable.”
Karen said good night and flopped back on the bed.
No, her old habits hadn’t brought her much happiness. She’d learned to use her looks to get almost anything in life, but she never believed that anyone—except maybe Kit—ever really liked her. For a long time she hadn’t even liked herself.
Mike—she thought—for a brief time, he had liked her. She was sure of it.
Two weeks, she thought, wrapping her arms around her knees and rocking a little on the king-size bed. Two weeks to figure out how to apologize to Kelly for a lifetime of being a terrible sister. Two weeks to muster up the courage to tell Mike the truth about what happened that night. And pray that in that time she would grow a thick-enough hide to survive their likely rejection.
“Lauren, what the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be over at the Hillside place finishing the railing,” Mike yelled as he got out of the truck. He slammed the door and stomped over to Lauren MacLean, the carpenter they’d hired after Nick moved to San Francisco.
Lauren froze, nail gun in hand, as she prepared to attach siding to the house Donovan Brothers was building in an exclusive gated community.
Mike glared down into Lauren’s sweat-streaked face. “I told you we need to get that railing done by the end of the day today so we can start working on the deck!”
Before Lauren could answer, a big hand gripped hard on his right shoulder. “Mike, lay off her, okay?” Mike turned to meet his younger brother Tony’s glare.
“Look, I told her to get over to Hillside and—”
“And I left you a message that the materials weren’t going to be in until Monday so I called her over here.”
Mike looked down at his cell phone. Sure enough, the screen indicated he had a new voice mail. Shit.
“I think you owe Lauren an apology,” Tony said.
Tony’s condescending tone set him off again. He thumped Tony hard with two fingers to the chest. “From now on, don’t reassign people. You may be my brother but I’m the boss, and I decide how to prioritize our schedule.”
“Is that so? Last time I looked the name was Donovan
Brothers
—”
Mike pushed Tony’s shoulder, hard. “Don’t start with me, Tony—”
Tony pushed him back, sending Mike back a couple of steps. “You don’t want me to start? Don’t come out here yelling at Lauren like she doesn’t know her ass from her hammer—”
That was it
. Mike charged Tony. The tension, the fury that had been boiling in his gut finally erupted. He’d been wanting to pound his fists into someone for two weeks, and now he had his chance.
They grappled like Greco-Roman wrestlers, staggering around the work site as each tried to knock the other down and get the upper hand.
Suddenly Mike felt something—or someone—attach to his back, accompanied by a harsh female voice blasting in his right ear. “CUT IT OUT.” Arms wrapped around his neck, a feminine hand splayed against Tony’s face, and a foot lodged against his chest as Lauren tried to pry them apart. “Stop it right now, you two.”
Tony broke free first and stepped back. But his stance was still poised, aggressive, as though ready to charge at the first provocation.
“You can get off me, Lauren,” Mike said. Or rather croaked, as Lauren’s strong forearm was still clamped across his throat.
“Not until you promise to ease off.”
“I will if he will.” Mike indicated Tony with his chin.
Tony threw up his hands. “I will if he stops being an asshole.”
Lauren slid off Mike’s back and came around to stand between them. “I don’t know what’s up with you two lately. You,” she whirled on Mike, “have been acting like you never got over the hangover from Nick’s bachelor party.”
“Yeah,” Tony said. “You’ve been acting like a dick.”
“And you,” Lauren said, a virago in a tank top and jeans as she turned on Tony, “have been baiting him at every opportunity. Now I know it’s hard for you, being men and all,” she said with a derisive sneer, “but why don’t you two work this out like adults so the rest of us can get some work done.”
She picked up her nail gun and went back to work. Thankfully, the rest of the crew followed her example.
“She’s right,” Tony spoke first. “You’ve been totally wacked ever since Nick’s bachelor party, and that’s just not like you.”
Mike looked sheepishly at Tony. He’d been an unreasonable prick ever since that night with Karen. No question, they had a lot to get done as this was the busiest part of the year. But that didn’t excuse how hard he’d been riding Tony, Lauren, and the rest of his crew.
He, who prided himself on being unemotional, who always kept his cool and rarely let anything get to him, was a tangled mess inside for the second time in his life.
And once again it was because of Karen Sullivan.
If he could have beaten the crap out of himself, he would have. That was how pissed he was for not just walking out of that bar and running like a vampire from garlic.
He couldn’t get her out of his head. Her scent. Her taste. How it felt to be buried to the hilt inside her slick, tight pussy. The sounds she made when she came, shuddering and completely out of control.
He wanted to scrub his mind clean of her.
He wanted to savor every vivid memory.
He was as shaken now as he’d been that night when he’d left her with nothing but harsh words and a harsher kiss.
She was driving him crazy. Again.
“Come on, man, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Tony said in a much calmer tone. That was Tony. Quick on the trigger but equally quick to calm down.
Mike and Tony walked back to his truck and Mike pulled two sodas out of the cooler he kept in the cab.
Mike unlatched the tailgate so they could sit. “You know that night at Caesar’s?”
“When you went AWOL?”
“Yeah.” Mike paused, took a sip. “I ran into Karen Sullivan on the way back to the club.”
“You didn’t—”
Mike nodded, mouth set in a tight line.
Tony shook his head as though trying to make it not so. “Oh man. She is bad news.”
Like he needed Tony to tell him that. Mike was silent, staring off into the grove of redwoods that abutted the property. “I don’t know what it is about her,” he said finally. “It’s like I get close to her and I can’t control myself.”