Beautiful Broken (24 page)

I don't tell her that her face is covered in bruises and she's got more cuts than I can count on two hands. It wouldn't help, and from the look of panic in her eyes, it would just overwhelm her.

"I wanna go home," she says, and a brittle tension I didn't realize I felt eases. She tightens her grip on my hand. "Don't leave me, D. I love you. I know it's hard, and I know I'm a mess. I know you love Atti, but I...I can be better. He'll get used to us," she says. She's babbling, her words tripping over themselves, and tears are tracking down her cheeks. So I do what I do best—I kiss her, stilling her words with my lips. She melts into me, her hand coming up to feather in my hair. Four days is too long. Any time away from her would be too long. I don't ever want to be away from her—I'm not sure I could survive it, if I were. She's soft and pliant, tasting faintly wrong, sterile. I want that taste gone—I want her warm in my bed, with no wires or machines or nurses. Nothing but us.

She's panting, her monitor beeping annoyingly behind us when I pull away, her eyes a little glazed. "I told you, Ittybitty. You’re beautiful broken. And you aren't going anywhere without me."

She smiles, a brilliant smile. And we both ignore the nurse opening the door behind us as she draws me down to kiss her again.

Later, we’re all sitting in her room, Avery curled in a chair not far from Atticus. A respectable distance. The doctors have been in and out for hours, checking her and running X-rays, fighting with her about the pain meds she’s on.

I’m sitting in her bed, and fuck if it annoys Atticus. She’s nestled against me, her cast bumping my leg, feeling so damn fragile I want to scream. I brush her hair back and kiss the little cut on her temple.

"How did you call?" Avery asks. It’s the question we’ve all been wanting an answer to—the cops said her purse was found outside the car, the phone inside it.

In my arms, Scout goes tense. "I didn’t. I lost my purse, when I went to UB."

"Why the hell were you on campus?" I demand, trying to piece together what I know. How upset she was, that night. Her bolting when she came to close to telling Atticus…"Scout, what happened?C

She takes a deep breath, shifting away from me. "I saw him."

The world falls away, and red colors my vision. It’s all I can do not to grab her and shake her. I want to kill someone. "Scout."

She looks up at me, and I ask it again. The question she never answered. "What happened?"

And she destroys me when she finally does.

Scout

Avery is staring at me with wide eyes, tears tracking down her face. Atticus is shaking his head, refusing to look at me. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I can’t breath—I feel raw and exposed.

"He followed you, the other night."

Dane’s voice is icy cold, so dangerous it makes me want to hide. Even knowing he would never hurt me, I want to run from that dangerous tone.

"If he hadn’t, I probably would have died," I murmur.

Atticus finally looks at me, jaw clenched. "Who was it?"

I shake my head. I don’t need either of them in jail for assault or murder. "It’s done. I’m tired of this running my life—of me running from it. I won’t let him steal any more from me."

"You knew about this. And didn’t tell me," Atti murmurs, staring at Dane. Avery puts a hand on his arm, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. "How could you not tell me?"

"What would I say? I found her drunk and wrecked in our room, got no details, but you should do something?" Dane’s voice is hostile and dismissive.

"She’s my sister. You should have
told me."

"I didn’t want you to know," I say quietly. "I didn’t want you to look at me, like that."

Atticus pales, and I want to sob. Dane’s grip on me, so gentle, tightens, pulling me into him as he kisses my hair. Atticus watches, and I take a deep breath. "I know you aren’t crazy about me and Dane. But he’s good for me—even when we weren’t together, he’s been taking care of me. You can’t deny that."

Atticus shakes his head and stands. Approaches the bed, leaning down to hug me. It’s awkward as hell, with the bed rail in the way and my IV and Dane smooshed into my side. But it’s soothing, healing, and I can pretend I don’t feel the tears that dampen my hair when he holds me.

It’s a tiny piece of the puzzle—but surrounded by the man I love and the brother I’m beginning to trust, I feel like maybe I can put myself back together.

Later, when Atti and Avery vanish for the night, I sit awkwardly in my bed while Dane paces and talks to Glenda about the office.

He hangs up after arguing and arranging to have work delivered first thing in the morning. He slumps against the wall, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I’m sorry."

His head snaps up, questions in his eyes. "For what?"

I shrug. Everything. Leaving the other night. Getting hurt. All the years of drugs. The rape, and putting so much on him. I can’t say all that, so I shrug again. "For keeping you from your work? And the Viper."

A grimace twists his face, and he comes back to bed, wrapping himself around me as we share the tiny space. "The Viper is replaceable, Ittybitty. The only thing I can’t replace is the thing I’m holding—and I’m not sure I’ll ever let you go."

I smile, his promise ringing in my ears as snuggle against him, and let his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

I move gingerly, easing my way from the dining room to the couch as Dane mutters something to Atticus. I should probably care more. I’m too damn tired. Dane put off my homecoming party almost a week after my actual homecoming. But with the end of the semester less than a week away, and everyone heading off to the four winds for winter break, I couldn’t put it off any longer.

I ease down into the couch and prop my leg up on the coffee table as Dane comes back into the living room. "You okay?" he asks, his voice silky warm in my ear. I nod, and he inhales the scent of my hair before kissing me. "Need some Tylenol?"

I shake my head, a little more vigorously. The pain is still insane, but I don’t want anything if I can help it. I don’t want either of us around pain pills. A little pain is something I can tolerate if we both stay clean.

Dane comes back, kissing my hair as he hands me a glass of sweet tea. I lean back and he watches me. "I’m gonna clean up." I watch him walk away, hear him throwing pizza boxes and plates away, tossing cups in the sink and wrapping up the brownies.

Shit. Brownies. I swing to my feet and limp into the kitchen. I’m getting good at maneuvering with this cast. I come up behind him, slipping an arm around his waist to snag a brownie from the plate. Deliberately let my hand brush his cock as I pull back. Dane goes still, and I paste an innocent look on my face when he glances at me over his shoulder.

"You keep treating me like I’m gonna break. You have ever since I told you about Boyd," I say, softly. Bite into the brownie and lick a dribble of chocolate off the top. His gaze tracks the movement of my tongue, and I see his hand clench on the counter top.

"You might," he says, his voice strangled. "I don’t want..."

"You won’t break me," I whisper. I put the brownie down and reach for the hem of my dress. Tug it up and over my head. His eyes close, and he takes a deep breath before he’s got me in his arms, cradling me to him, his jeans rubbing against the skin of my right leg. It feels good, but not nearly as good as it would if he were naked.

I back up. "Clothes. Off.
Now."

A smile flashes in his eyes, but he does as I say, and I watch him strip. It’s a show, and my mouth is dry, my core wet and trembling, when he’s finally naked in front of me. I want to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. Because of my damn cast, I can’t. He comes to me, his hands closing over the flare of my hips, drawing me tight to him, so my panties rub against his cock. I whimper, and his hands tighten on me an instant before he bites down on my neck. I shudder, almost coming from that alone.

Then he drops to his knees and drags my panties down. He leaves them on me, keeping them just above my knees. Keeping me from spreading my feet to give him better access. And then he kisses me, slow, wet kisses along my thigh, over the still healing surgical cut. Up to my navel. Tantalizingly close to where I want him, but never there. Never what I need. Until I flick my bra open and fill my own hands with my breasts, toying with my nipples as I sag against the wall. His eyes darken, and then he seals his lips over my clit, sucking softly while he shoves two fingers into me. I groan, trying to spread my legs. Dane laughs. Slaps my ass lightly. I jump against his lips and he pins me to the wall with one arm. Holding me still, his lips on me, his fingers deep in me, he proceeds to finger fuck me senseless. I’m whimpering, my legs trembling, and Dane shifts, whispers against me, "I love you so much, Ittybitty."

I shatter, all the pleasure spiraling tight and exploding as his words brush against me, his fingers moving inside me. I gasp, my head falling back, his name a broken plea on my lip. Before the orgasm eases, he’s standing in front of me, his cock pressing against me, sliding deep inside. It’s the best kind of invasion, and we groan together as he fills me, my core clenching down on him. He kisses me, and I can taste myself on his lips as he slowly makes love to me. Until we’re both crazy with need and he comes, hard and hot inside me as I whimper through another climax.

And I smile. Because this is the best homecoming I could ever ask for. And Dane will always be home.

About the Author

Nazarea Andrews, author of
Edge of the Falls
and
This Love,
is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. She loves chocolate and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, and overgrown dog.

You can follow her on
Facebook
and
Twitter
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Nazarea Andrews
Official Website

Acknowledgements:

First, always—thank you, Jesus, for all my stories and the ability to string them together.

My extended family—inlaws who continue to feed me and the kids, my mom and dad (please don’t read this one, Mom. Seriously). The Niece for babysitting, and Tim and Hailey for keeping my mind in the gutter—it really doesn’t take much.

All of the bloggers who asked for Dane’s story after reading Atti’s. I hope it lived up to what you expected. :) The lovely ladies of Indie Ignites—you guys are the best and I adore each of you. Coffee and cookies for EVERYONE!

Dhalia and Leigh Ann and KT and Cait—y’all kept me so amused and sprinting to the finish. Your support and friendship means so much.

And the ones I couldn’t do without—

Mel Stevens, for the gorgeous cover. She is seriously the best. And her notes when she reads aren’t bad either.

Rachel Bateman, my insanely awesome editor. For the violent text messages and the random trivia and getting rid of my em dashes and use of the word ‘and’. I know you're cringing reading this sentence.

Brianna—dude. Just everything. Cuz what else is there to say?

Chantee. I made you sit through two romances back to back. I promise dead people and blood in the next book. Thanks for all the work you do and making the formatting look so damn good.

KP and Jess at InkSlingerPR. I am so incredibly lucky to work with such amazingly talented and dedicated people. Y’all are rockstars.

And Michael. Thanks, babe. For always believing, for half listening when I ramble about books and twitter and stories, and for chasing this crazy dream with me. You and the girls make everything worthwhile. Love you the most.

Table of Contents

Beautiful Broken

Copyright

Books by Nazarea Andrews

Dedication