Beautiful Disaster (The Bet) (34 page)

"You know," Nicholas began his voice light as he approached her. "I've seen just about every inch of you right?" he tilted his head slightly amused by her sudden bashfulness. "Every beauty mark is etched up here." He pointed at his head and laughed when Ellie flushed. He cupped her face, lowering his head, his eyes bore into hers. "You're like air to me, Ellie." He said quietly. "A necessity I can't do without."

His candor alarmed Ellie, the intensity in his eyes more than she could bear.  Her heart hammering like thunder in her chest she felt completely overwhelmed. It frightened Ellie that he could need her so much. Want her with such desperation.  "I love you too, Nicky." She whispered, eagerly accepting the kiss he offered.

"Do I get to shower too?" she asked moments later, slightly breathless.

"So long as I get to join you."

"But you just showered." She replied dubiously, jumping off the bed.

"Yes," he said slowly, effortlessly sweeping her off her feet, "but I'm a very dirty boy.

"Nicky!" Ellie squealed. "Put me down!" impervious to her demands, Nicholas marched them to the bathroom closing the door behind them, stifling Ellie's screams.

Life had been good for them. Their friendship, stuff of legends. Their destinies set in stone. Nicholas was the leader, the bronze God everyone could not help worship and he'd been more than happy in his shadow. Loving and basking in the glow of Nicholas's enigmatic charm and those devastatingly good looks.

Matt had believed in them, in their friendship. He'd believed that they would inherit their fathers' empires and go forth together to forge a new era in business. Merge both companies together and rise to the top as titans. He had grounded his faith in Nicholas, planned a future for them that now seemed so dismally far out of reach, all because of the black bitch that poisoned Nicholas's mind against him.

Never had Matt regretted anything more than the afternoon he'd initiated the bet with Nicholas. Had he curtailed the urge to demoralize yet another one of John Edgar’s gullible pupils, he wouldn't have found himself in this situation. Leg broken, in agony and downright pissed off that his plan hadn't worked. With all the time and effort he'd spent on said plans one would think he'd at least come out the situation with something aside from broken bones and a slew of cops now on his ass with questions he'd chosen not to answer without his attorney present.

God, everything had gone to shit and Matt did not take a moment to rationalize his thoughts when he piled the blame on everyone else's doorsteps. Carlyle was a fucking moron and Matt knew he should've known better than to trust a junkie with anything but dealing. And Maddie, the poster child for self-deprecation had proved nothing more than a decent fuck. Then there was Nicholas. How could he possibly find himself attracted to that girl, when Matt was the one who'd waited...wanting...needing Nicholas to acknowledge him as more than just a friend?

He was the one deserving of Nicholas!

He was the one who loved him most! The one who'd stayed up with him clearing out his father's liquor cabinet when Nicholas's whore of a mother abandoned him. He'd been the one who'd talked Nicholas out of countless suicide attempts, had even gone so far as to stand on that bridge with him when Nicholas had wanted to jump. He, Matthew Bates, had been the one who had manipulated and plotted to ruin a girl's life just so Nicholas could acknowledge him. He loved him so damn much that his obsession ate away at him like a festering wound.

"I loved you first!" Matt roared, swiping his arm across the bedside table, dishes clattered to the floor. Nurses were quick in coming to his aid, anxious in discovering what had happened. One hastened to floor to pick up the broken dishes, while the other checked on his vitals and fussed with the sheets.

"Get the hell out of my room, I'm fine!" Matt shoved her away when a slip of her hand caused the searing pain from hours ago to return with vengeance.

"I'm sorry----"

"How many fucking times do I have to ask for a nurse who doesn't have the limited vocabulary of an immigrant? Learn some fucking English before talking to me! Until then, leave me the hell alone!" The Haitian nurse remained indifferent to Matt's harsh words, although she did exchange a knowing look with the other nurse.

Matthew Bates had made a name of himself since he'd been wheeled in from the OR. Every RN or NP in the West wing avoided his room like a plague, no one wanted to be scorched by his scathing words. Poor Mary-rose because of having to work around her son's school schedule had been stuck with the bastard. She would've gladly exchanged patients with any of the other nurses, only no one wanted the burden that was Matthew Bates.

Mary-rose had dealt with a lot in her life therefore handling someone like Matt was a cakewalk. It wasn't exactly her first time hearing such ignorant comments and it certainly wouldn't be her last. In her opinion Matt was another prime example of a spoiled rich white boy who believed he owned the world just because daddy made it so.

"How you feel, Sir? Can I get you something to drink? Apple juice, Ginger Ale?" Arsenic, she silently added, a blithe smile on her lips.

Matt scowled. "I want you to leave me alone and while you're at it, get my doctor. I'm ready to get out of here." Of course the police had asked that his doctor inform them when Matt was ready to be discharged, but Matt was sure his father had taken care of it.

Mary-rose forced a smile. "Okay, you try get some sleep." She left him then, the other nurse close at her heels.

It wasn't until they were completely out of the room before Matt fell back against the mounted pillows with a heavy sigh.

He needed to see Nicholas and make him understand. There was a distinct blueprint of their lives that they were meant to follow. It was predestined. Their fathers had followed the blueprint and their fathers before them. They had all sown their oats, married when time had called for it, produced heirs and gone on to conquer the business world and he and Nicholas were supposed to follow. Walk down the beaten path and follow their fathers to glory.

How had he allowed Nicholas to stray so far? Matt wondered morosely. Was Ellie's hold on him so strong that he could throw away years of friendship so easily? Jesus, was she that good of a lay?

Matt sighed and carded fingers through his hair. It wasn't lost on him how crazy he sounded at times, especially when his thoughts came to Nicholas. But he sincerely believed his obsession well founded. Nicholas---Nicholas was an amazing guy, who had all the potential of becoming a magnificent man. Matt wanted to be the one by his side when he reached his glory. But more than anything, Matt wanted to belong to Nicholas. He wanted it more than his next breath.

Transfixed and just a little overwhelmed, Ellie stared at the pixilated image of Nicholas's child blazoned across the cell phone screen. She was the tiniest thing, no larger than the distance between the tips of her fingers to the inside of Ellie’s elbow. Pink and sweet, with all digits and toes accounted for. She had the slightest hint of blue-green veins protruding from her rose tinted skin. She looked at peace in slumber, reminding Ellie of a porcelain doll with all that dark hair on her head.

After they'd eaten breakfast, Ellie had asked Nicholas to recount the events that had led him to this point. Afterwards, once he'd told her about his daughter and her precarious state, he'd taken out the cell phone to show Ellie her picture.

Reality set in quick for Ellie as she continued to stare at the image, her thoughts running ragged. She couldn't really describe the emotions going through her, only that she was afraid for this little girl and her father. Her gaze involuntarily found Nicholas and Ellie reached out to him, settling her hand on his forearm. When he looked at her, a vise clenched around Ellie's heart. The agonized expression on Nicholas's face like her own.

"I named her Isabella...Bella for short." He began with a smile that was far in reaching his silver eyes. "She’s the most perfect little thing, Ellie. I can't wait till you meet her. Sophie too. She’ll have a sister to play with.” His voice was hollow, haunted and Ellie couldn't fool herself into thinking the glitter in his eyes was anything but tears. She was in motion before she could think, her body finding a place between his parted legs.

"She’s perfect, Nicky." The overwhelming jolt she received upon hearing Nicholas say that Sophia would have a sister to play with was temporarily ignored as she focused solely on him. "And Sophie's going to love her."

"The minute she pulls through this, Elle, I want to go away. You, me, Soph and Bella, we'll all go far away from here, just the four of us." With head bowed, the top of Nicholas's head rested against Ellie's chest and lovingly she ran her fingers though his hair. Nicholas's agony palpable. It hurt to see him this way. "I---I promised her a kingdom, Ellie." He was trying so hard to keep the sorrow inside, the strength it took evident in every fiber of his being. Ellie felt it, pulled taut like a bowstring. "I'm…I'm scared..." Ellie gasped when he grabbed her hips, blunt finger nails digging into her naked skin. The pain became inconsequential the minute Nicholas buried his face against her chest and silently wept.

Sonya had never done anything for anyone without gaining something in return. She'd learned at a very young age that in order to survive in a male dominated world, she had to use her God given gifts to get what she wanted. One of the things she had wanted most of all was Charles Grayson.

Born the youngest daughter of a sexually abusive father and an alcoholic mother, Sonya had learned to survive the best way she knew how. Her beauty, paired with her hourglass figure had been her weapons and with them, she'd conquered movie screens. With enough brains and shrewdness to know who the elites were, she'd charmed those who would ultimately lead her to Charles.

Her wedding had been the stuff of fairytales. Her husband, not exactly Prince Charming, but his wealth had made up for that. For some time, Sonya had lived with rose-tinted glasses, believing that everything was right with the world. The illusion shattered the very second she'd discovered the unsettling truth about her husband.

Their former housekeeper Greta Billson had lived in the pool house behind the Grayson mansion with her twelve year old son Joshua, if she remembered the name correctly. Joshua had been a shy little boy with a comely face far too pretty to belong to a boy. But belong to him it did.

He'd been incredibly bright with an affinity for books. Charles's home office had held an extensive plethora of books, floor to ceiling, wall to wall and Joshua had been drawn like a moth. Charles had discovered Joshua's passion and had exploited it to his own perverse pleasure. For every sexual favor Joshua performed on him, Charles was always sure to gift the young boy with a new book.

This had gone on for months before Greta discovered what was happening. She'd threatened to go the police but Charles, being who he was had bought her silence with an obscene amount of money and a few good threats added to the mix to keep them all quiet.

Mortified, absolutely horror stricken couldn't have come close in describing how Sonya had felt upon learning that she'd married the very thing she'd spent her entire life running away from. She'd rummaged through his things after that, when he'd go on ‘business' trips, she'd snuck into his office. The code to his private safe had not been easy to crack, but once she'd gained access, Sonya had seen the abundance of DVDs. There'd been so much, movies, pictures hundreds upon hundreds of them showcasing barely legal boys performing all types of sexual acts on Charles's and his business partners.

Sonya could remember throwing up for days after that.  When she'd worked up enough nerve to confront him, he hadn't bothered to deny the accusations like Sonya had hoped. He'd been quite emotionless and blasé about the entire situation, going so far as to tell her that now he wouldn't need to hide behind business trips when he traveled overseas.

She'd discovered her pregnancy soon after that and had spoken to her lawyers about a divorce. The result of that had been the death of her acting career. Charles had made it so that no one hired her. Going to the police ensured her eldest sister's car accident. After that, Sonya had gotten the message loud and clear. She wasn't going anywhere.

Scared, helpless and with no one to help her, she'd felt so alone. It was then that Sonya stopped fighting her husband and fell into the role of vapid socialite wife. She'd perfected the role so well that now she didn't even know who the real Sonya was.

Her son's hatred was the price she paid every day for her fear and cowardice all those years ago. She didn't want pity, nor did she expect anything from Nicholas for what she was planning. This was a long time coming and this was the least she could do for him for her failure as a parent. The very least. 

Sonya patted the manila folder next to her. In just a few minutes they would arrive at Jacob Manor and the wheels of Charles's demise would be set in motion. Sonya could hardly wait to see the bastard squirm.

The very second the black luxury sedan came to a halt before the imposing structure that was Jacob Manor, Sonya anxiously opened the door. Heedless of the frazzled chauffeur who rushed to her side to open the door for her, she held the sealed envelope tightly to her thundering chest, hoping that she was doing the right thing. Once or twice on their journey she’d almost made the chauffeur turn the car around, sure that Charles was on to her. But the thought of Nicholas had given her strength. She was doing this for her son. She owed it to him.