Below Unforgiven (19 page)

Read Below Unforgiven Online

Authors: Kimberly Stedronsky

So I did what I do best; I ran. I ran away from Matthew, my parents, and everyone and everything that reminded me of the stage, my dreams, and the family I almost had.

The man that I almost married.

Gram called next, and I smiled, answering. She immediately began singing ‘Happy Birthday,’ and I waited, consumed with warm memories of her and my childhood. “Thanks Gram,” I said as she finished, and she chuckled.

“You’re welcome, honey. Are you having fun? Being safe?” She prodded.

I cringed, hoping she meant safety as in numbers, and not safety as in birth control, because that would just be too much. “Of course. Keaton’s family is wonderful.”

“I mean in bed, honey. Condoms.”

I sighed. There it was. One unplanned pregnancy, and I was a careless whore for the rest of my life. “We’re just friends, Gram, but thank you for caring about me.”

“I know you have that birth control shot, but I just don’t trust that kind of new medicine. I love you, Vivie. Nothing wrong with a little roll in the hay, as long as you’re careful. Double wrap it, sweetie.”

Oh, Jesus. “Okay, Gram, love you too. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

My Gram was a pleasant mix of Mother Theresa and Betty White, and I decided to just accept her words without comment.

A roll in the hay. I had to smile, settling back on the pillows with the book in my hand. Not a paragraph into
Doubting Damon,
my eyes were heavy. Letting the pages flutter, I closed my eyes, thinking about Keaton.

Something about him felt like
home
.

I couldn’t explain the feeling if I tried. Matthew had been my only serious relationship, and after the baby, everything felt forced. Obligatory. As much as I had loved Matthew, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible as soon as I realized our son was gone.

Usually, when I started to think about the tiny baby in my arms, I’d close my mind. This time, I let the memories in, just one, just the smallest recollection.

“It should have been me,”
I’d whispered, staring at the empty, hospital grade bassinette. They were the first words I’d spoken since I’d last held our son.


It shouldn’t have been either of you
. I couldn’t let you go, Vivian,”
Matthew replied, sitting next to me on the bed and wrapping his arms around me. I was still so weak, but I had forced strength into my arms to drop them around his shoulders.

The IV had gotten tangled with the bed rail. I remembered watching the bubbles inside the tube, hoping one would make its way to my aching heart.

As soon as I heard the door open, I bolted upright, shaken from my half-dream.

“Hey, Viv, you in here?”

I narrowed my eyes, watching Dean saunter into my room. “Hi… yeah. What do you need?”

“The guys aren’t back yet? Robin sent me up to see if they’d come up the back elevators.”

“No, Keaton’s not here.”

He nodded, and I became hyperaware that the door was no longer propped open with the latch. Checking to see that it was completely closed behind him, he smiled. “Robin told me about your job.”

“My job?” I sat up more fully, smoothing my sundress over my knees.

He nodded, his too-big arms flexing as he dug into his pocket. “I have a hundred bucks. What will that get me?”

“Excuse me?” I was on my feet in seconds.

He counted the cash in his wallet. “Well, I have a hundred and ten. Robin was all bent over your job, but I was like, hell yeah, there’s a girl who knows how to use what she’s got-…,”

“If you say one more fucking word to me before turning around and getting the hell out of my room, I will punch you in your teeth.”

“I love mouthy actresses.” Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha went his stupid laugh. His blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail and streaked with highlights, and the expression on his face disturbed me.
He’s completely serious.
I went for the door, stumbling. He caught me by the shoulders, actually put his
hands
on me, and stopped me from passing. “Do I have to pay extra for the rape fantasy?”

Okay, now I was freaking out. Pay, rape, and fantasy obviously were a trigger for my gag reflex. Swallowing hard, I glared at him. “I am not a prostitute. Let me pass.”

“Get on your knees. I want those thick lips around my cock. Let’s go.” He chuckled again, scratching at his chin hair. “Huh, that sounded fucking awesome.”

I laughed, because that’s what I did when I was scared out of my mind. “Keaton will be back any minute and walk in here. You are completely ridiculous. You really believe I’d take your money and
do
that?”

“What, more than a hundred?” He pushed at my shoulders, and I jerked away, rushing for the door.
This is really happening. I can’t believe this. I can’t-
He had my back against the door to my hotel room, his breath hot on my neck. His hands were shoving my skirt up to my thighs, and I fought him, trying to squirm away. “What, my money isn’t good enough for you?”

When his fingers forced their way between my thighs, I fought to keep from screaming. “Do you
hear
yourself? Dean!
Listen to me!
What you’re doing is
illegal
. You’re hurting my arm,” I cried, unable to hold the tears back any longer. “I don’t want to have sex with you, not in any way.
Let go of me!

“Come
on
,” he growled, and in my effort to turn away from him, my cheek was flattened against fire exit information on the door. He was too strong, and I slipped into a state of utter incredulity.

“Get
off of me-

And suddenly, Keaton was pulling Dean off of me and punching him.

Repeatedly. In the face.

Blood sprayed from Dean’s nose, and I gagged at the cracking noise before screaming, backing against the wall. “Keaton, stop!”


Fuck
,” he slammed Dean to the floor one more time, standing and delivering a purposeful kick to the man’s side. He was unconscious, and Keaton’s knuckles were bleeding. “Are you okay?” He panted, reaching for me.

“Did that just happen?” I stared in disbelief, at Keaton, at Dean, and the hotel room, shaking my head. “Did you just beat off my potential rapist?”

“Did he touch you?”

“No,” I reached for his hand, leading him toward the bucket of melting ice on the bar. “He’s out. You broke his nose.”

“Fuck,” he said again as I lowered his fist into the ice water. “I just got off probation. I can’t let this happen.”

“Um, too late?” I pulled his hand out of the bucket and carried the bloody ice water to Dean, turning it over his face.

He came to consciousness, choking and spitting at the water. When he saw Keaton, he backed against the wall. “Yo, man, I wasn’t gonna… what the hell, you broke my nose…,”

I stepped forward, pointing at my chest. “No,
I
broke your nose when you tried to rape me. You’re lucky Keaton walked in, or you’d be dead. I’m a ninth degree black belt.”

Sounds good. Were there nine degrees?

I continued, on a roll. “Go clean yourself up and make up a story that’s better than a little girl breaking your face. I’ll try not to tell Robin what you did.”

He held his bloodied shirt up to his nose, looking between me and Keaton, and then back to me again. Finally, he climbed to his feet. “Don’t tell Robin. I’ll tell her I… I don’t know yet.”

“Just get the hell out of here, you fucking
jack
ass,” Keaton grabbed him by the arm, and I opened the door in just enough time for him to toss Dean into the hallway.

The door slammed closed, and I stared at Keaton.

“Now what?” I asked, exhaling slowly, staring at the blood on the wallpaper and in the carpet. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Now, I have him escorted out of the hotel. You tell Robin what happened. I’ll meet you here in twenty minutes.”

I nodded, turning toward the door. He caught me and spun me around, and I gazed up at him, holding my breath.

He looked grave. “I would have
killed him.
Thank you for stopping me.”

“Thank you for… defending my honor.”

He grinned, that wide, crazy grin that made my knees buckle.

“I had to defend it, because I’m taking it later.”

I smiled, letting him tuck a loose strand of my auburn hair behind my ear. “Are you sure you didn’t set this up? I don’t think I can handle another cliché. I leave my door unlocked, waiting for
you
, and random rapist guy meanders in for an easy target? If I catch the bouquet tonight, you’d better not touch that garter.”

His eyes focused on my lips. “Did you just say meander? You are fucking awesome, kiddo.”

I sighed, flicking his aviators from his forehead to his eyes again. “Likewise, Maverick.”

He smirked. “I’m
going
to catch that garter. Then, I’m going to do the Hokey Pokey with you, the Electric Slide, and maybe even the Chicken Dance.”

“Oh, god,” I groaned, and he grinned against my lips.

“You’re mine, Vivian Hale.”

I was never one for the possessive types, but those words from Keaton’s mouth tightened my body in all the best places.

“I like that. Let me go mop up my passion potion, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

He laughed, smothering my grin with his kiss.

 

Save the Last Dance

K

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I am so
so sorry.

“Robin,” Vivian protested, dabbing at my sister’s cheek with a tissue. “Please don’t. It’s not your fault.”

“Why do I always fall for these assholes? Why do I have such a big mouth? I mentioned the contract, but
never
even insinuated… that you…,” she shook her head and sniffed, and Vivian sighed. “I didn’t want anything to ruin Luke’s day, and it’s my own fault-…,”

“It’s not your fault, Robin. Come on,” I turned to Vivian, taking her hand and squeezing it before moving toward the procession. “Vivian, you’re sitting with our mom, okay?”

“I know,” she squeezed back, nodding and dropping her voice. “You look so handsome.”

I traced her palm with my thumb, shooting her a roguish smolder. “So do you.”

She rolled her eyes, and I grinned, remembering watching her as she emerged from the hotel room dressed in the blue gown I’d bought her from the bridal store. Her eyes were popping accordingly, and throughout the entire ceremony I’d focused on only Vivian, sitting in the audience. When it came time for me to produce the rings, Luke had to elbow me to draw my attention, which only made her smile brighter.

“Which do you find more attractive about me, my rugged physique or my strong, manly jaw?” She teased, and I tugged her close, pretending to examine her face.

“Hey.” Robin took a deep breath and brushed at the last of her tears, turning to us both. “I don’t know what you two have planned, but you need to know that you look amazing together. I’ve never seen either of you smile
more
than in the past two days. Please, please be careful with each other’s hearts, okay? Love you both.” With that, she kissed my cheek, and then Vivian’s, before taking my arm. “Come on, procession time.”

I followed her to the line and took my place next to Lindsey, but all I could think about was the way I’d lost my entire mind when I walked in on that fuckface holding Vivian against the door. His hands were all over her, and she was crying, doing her best to fight him off.

The rush of fury nearly forced me to my feet. I was ready to hunt him down and finish what I’d started.

Robin sat at the table across from me, and it was as though, even after all these years, she could still sense when I was losing my temper. She raised her hand to her forehead and saluted me, a secret gesture that used to mean something between us.

You’re the head of this house, Keaton. Not Dad. You’re in charge.

When I’d left, her words only added to my guilt.

It’s all my fault,
I wanted to confess to Robin. The contract was my idea, my stupidest one yet, and I was surprised at how Vivian had completely taken over the situation in the hotel room. She found her seat next to my mom, Kelsey’s seat, and I had to laugh at the thought of Kelsey sitting next to my mother for the whole evening.

The dinner and the reception were held at the banquet hall in the hotel, and we were served our meals while Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin crooned from the DJ’s speakers. I knew that Madeline and Luke had butted heads over a DJ versus a band, and in the end Luke had won. “There’s no way a band is going to rap a Nelly song at my wedding,” my brother had argued.

“There won’t
be
any Nelly songs at my wedding!” Madeline had shrieked.

I grinned, remembering the summer of 2003 when I was sixteen and learning to drive, and Luke was my eleven-year-old eager co-pilot. We blasted Nelly from the speakers of my grandfather’s Buick, riding as low as possible.

Academically, high school had been a boring breeze for me. I had the highest GPA in my graduating class-and the worst attendance. Apparently, my give-zero-fucks attitude was hot with the girls, and I had my pick of any one of them.

So I picked them all.

My longest high-school relationship lasted three weeks, and as I scanned the crowd from the banquet table, my gaze stopped on Lucy Mayer. She was watching me, and the moment our eyes made contact, she blushed and looked down at her lap. I watched her lean closer to the man at her side as I deflected a fuck-you look from him.

I assumed he was her husband.

I’d taken her virginity, I remembered, and then her best friend’s, too. After an all-out war between the two of them, they ended up mutually hating me. Looking back, I couldn’t blame them.

Luke responded to the customary tapping of forks against glasses, kissing his new wife, and I watched him with pride.

Luke and I had remained close. The summer after I’d graduated, I took him under my wing like any good big brother would and helped him buy beer for himself and his friends, only to be the one picking their asses up at the police station at one o’clock in the morning.

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