Page 28 of Tempting Bad

  I should have gone with my instincts. I should have ended it the afternoon that I left Madam’s office.

  I didn’t.

  I’m a coward.

  I’m my father.

  There I was staring at my past, with my present standing beside me.

  How the fuck did I let it get this far?

  “You two know each other?” Devon questioned, looking back between us.

  “You could say that,” Landon nonchalantly responded.

  “We grew up together. She and Christine were best friends.”

  Devon’s eyes instantly amplified, understanding the simple, yet significant sentence that would change everything.

  “It’s him,” he whispered, only for me to hear.

  I nodded.

  “Dad!” Ethan yelled, running over to him as fast as his small baby legs would let him. Devon picked him up, kissed his head, and placed him on his hip.

  “Oh, Devon, I’m so glad you could—” Her face faltered when she saw me. “Brooke?”

  “Hey, Christine,” was all I could say.

  “What are you doing here? Are you here with April? I thought she couldn’t make it,” she explained.

  I shook my head. “No… I’m here with Devon.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Devon?”

  “Christine, I think Brooke is Devon’s girlfriend,” Landon cautioned.

  “No!” I yelled out from nowhere, making everyone look at me. “We’re friends. That’s all. We’re just friends.” I didn’t have the audacity to look over at Devon, but I didn’t have to. I just stabbed him in the heart. Purposely.

  “Oh…” Christine breathed out.

  “I’m going to use the bathroom. Where is that?” I asked, needing to get ahold of my emotions, and away from all the crazy stares.

  I wanted to cry.

  I wanted to scream.

  I wanted to run away.

  But mostly… I wanted to hide.

  “Down the hall to your right. Here, I’ll take you,” Landon offered.

  I nodded and followed him inside, still not looking back at Devon. There was a line down the hall for that bathroom, so Landon took me up the stairs, saying that one wouldn’t be occupied.

  He turned as soon as we were alone and away from prying ears. “Jesus, Brooke, we go from not seeing each for over a decade, to seeing each other twice in a few months.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “So you know Christine’s ex-husband?”

  “Yeah… I didn’t know. I mean, I knew he was married, but I had no idea it would be to Christine. He’s never said her name and I never asked.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “No shit, Landon. What am I supposed to do now? Go back down there and pretend like we don’t all know each other, or there isn’t a history there that makes us want to gouge each other’s eyes out.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  I shrugged. “No… yes… I don’t fucking know. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Brooke, I don’t know. Jesus. I don’t… I never thought… I mean…”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I get it,” I said, understanding his babble.

  “Landon, Landon, are you up there?” I heard a female voice say.

  “Yeah! I’ll be down in a second, babe,” he hollered from the stairs.

  “Awesome. Let’s add her into the equation. We could all be one big, happy family. It’s like a fucked up version of the Brady Bunch. What are the odds? Seriously? What are the odds of this happening?”

  “Fuck… if I know,” he justified.

  “Where’s your bathroom?” I questioned, not being able to deal with him standing in front of me any longer. I was in the home he shared with his wife and children, and the man that I loved was downstairs, with his ex-wife and child.

  This shit was right out of some book or movie.

  He nodded toward the door behind me; I turned around before giving it a second thought.

  “Do you love him?” he called out, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  I didn’t answer, I couldn’t.

  “It’s okay to love someone, Brooke, Devon’s an amazing man. My sister fucked that up, not him. You deserve to be happy.”

  “Do I?” I murmured loud enough for him to hear.

  “Brooke, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I didn’t care if it was with me or without me. You can’t keep punishing yourself over something you can’t control. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You don’t know me, Landon.”

  “That’s rich coming from someone who doesn’t know herself either.”

  I closed my eyes, taking in his words, and opened the door, before he could say another word. I turned on the sink and splashed my face with water. Avoiding the mirror like it was disease infected, but my eyes landed there anyway.

  Except this time, it wasn’t my reflection staring back at me.

  It was my father’s.

  “God… what a small world. How do you know Brooke?” Christine questioned, not taking her eyes from the direction they left.

  “I met her through a friend,” I said, shocked as shit by the turn of events.

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? What kind of answer is that? She either is or she isn’t.”

  “It’s confusing.”

  “That’s Brooke,” she stated.

  I finally looked at her. “What?”

  “Devon, Brooke is broken, she’s been broken, God… since I can remember. She’s fucked up. You think I was bad; I’m not even close to her. She nearly destroyed Landon. It took him years to forget about her. Even now, he looks at her the same way he used to. His wife might not notice, but I sure as hell do. She’s going to hurt you.”

  “Like you did?”

  “Oh, come on! That’s not fair.”

  “Keep your voice down,” I ordered, stepping closer to her.

  “Devon, I don’t want to see you get hurt. Please.”

  “I’m a big boy, Christine. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s fine. Can we enjoy the rest of the day without any more drama? I think I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she cautioned before leaving.

  Brooke came back shortly after.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, pulling her hair away from her face.

  “I don’t know anymore,” she whispered and it nearly broke my heart.

  “What can I do?” I asked, rubbing the side of her cheek.

  “Nothing. Let’s just enjoy the day.”

  I kissed the tip of her nose, and tried to ignore the thoughts that were looming.

  I separated myself from the guests and Devon. He was playing with Ethan in the bouncy house. I walked into the kitchen, and served myself a glass of whiskey; taking it down in one swig.

  “Still a whiskey kinda girl, huh?”

  “You taught me.”

  Christine laughed, and sat on the chair in front of me at the kitchen island.

  “This isn’t where we fight, is it?” I asked, expecting anything at that point.

  “I have nothing to fight about.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  She grinned. “I just wanted to have a few words with my childhood, best friend and the future stepmom of my son.”

  “It’s not like that, Christine.”

  “It is to him.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Yes, I do. See here’s the difference between you and me, Brooke. I can see that he loves you. He never looked at me like that. Ever.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t either considering you fucked the help.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I don’t want—”

  “You’re right,” she interrupted, still maintaining her glaring stare. “I did fuck up. Royally. You don’t know him, Brooke, not like I do. I may not ha

ve been the best wife to him, but I do love and care for him. He is the father of my child.”

  “I know…”

  “Don't push him away, like you did with Landon. Some of us don’t get that second chance, but for you, Brooke, your second chance at happiness and love is right out there. I see the way you both look at each other.”

  I bit my cheek.

  “I’m Ethan's mom, don't fuck this up. Being a part of Devon's life makes you a part of Ethan’s. And I don’t want to see my son get hurt. He’s attached to you, too.”

  “I understand,” I whispered.

  “Brooke, it took me a long time of making mistakes, and I’m paying for it by fucking up my relationship with Devon. I won’t have you fuck up or hurt these men that are important in my life. The Brooke who was my best friend, wouldn’t push away the people she loves. I hope you realize that the people in this house love you so much, and it’s time for you to realize that, before you lose everything.”

  She grabbed the glass and bottle away from me, and poured herself a drink. “Don’t hurt him, Brooke.”

  “Trust me. It’s the last thing I want to do.”

  She grabbed another glass, pouring another drink and handed it to me, raising her glass in the air. “A toast. To you not fucking this up, too.”

  I clinked our glasses together and drank mine down…

  Knowing what I had to do.

  We drove in silence and I didn’t stop him, when he parked his car in my guest parking. He followed me up to my condo.

  “We need to talk,” I announced as he closed the door behind me.

  “Words every man loves to hear.”

  “I’m serious,” I cautioned, staring at him.

  He shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the door. “So am I.”

  “Devon…” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to find the strength to say what I needed to. “I care about you. I care about you a lot. I never thought I would be able to think about someone, the way I do you. I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish things could be different. They can’t. We can’t.”

  “What are you saying?” he interrogated, not moving away from the door.

  “I’m saying. This.” I pointed between us. “It needs to end. We can’t do this anymore.”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Brooke. We’re way past that,” he argued, stepping closer to me.

  I put my hand up in the air in front of me. “No, we’re not, we’re still there. Nothing has changed. You need to know that.” My cellphone rang, but I ignored it. “It’s not right. What I’m doing to you, what you’re doing to me. It’s not right.”

  “And what exactly is that, Bambi? Huh? Is it the fact that we love each other? Is that the problem?” he vowed, as if it were the easiest thing to say. The words just rolled off his tongue.

  My jaw dropped. The sound of my cellphone ringing took me out of my coma-induced glare. It stopped ringing, but I could still hear the sound in my mind. Or maybe that was my hastily, beating heart that felt like it was bleeding out my ears, and onto the floor, for him to see.

  “I don’t love you, Devon,” I lied and by the look on his face he knew it. It didn’t matter; I had to keep going. Whatever it took. “I’m sorry… I care deeply about you, but I don’t love you.”

  He didn’t say anything, nor did he move or stop eyeing me with an unrecognizable stare. Both of us stood there contemplating what to do next, who would win this power struggle…

  Heart over mind.

  Body over soul.

  Love over truth.

  Hate…

  It’s what makes the world go round.

  The moment we heard my cellphone ring again, the shutters were opened and the light shined in, bright and blinding. I reached for it and the rest proceeded in slow motion, I observed it from an out of body experience. It was the only way I could go through it.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” my client huskily groaned into the phone.

  “Hi,” I tempted like a woman possessed ready to destroy the only thing that made sense, but didn’t stand a chance.

  The odds were against us since day one.

  “I want to play… do you want to play?” he urged in a voice I recognized all too often.

  Always the same…

  I knew Devon could hear what he was saying, the room was that fucking silent. The stillness was as eerie as it was calming, the eye of the storm threatening to pour and take over.

  “Of course I do. What did you have in mind?” I replied in a rehearsed, sultry tone that I had perfected over the years.

  I walked over to my bay window that overlooked all of downtown Miami. It used to make me feel powerful, the world was my playground where I made the rules and set the guidelines. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that again, the emotions controlled me, where I was just another hopeless romantic that thought love would prevail.

  It made me sick, as much as it made me whole.

  It ended now.

  “All of it. I want you to stay the night; I want to wake up to your pussy riding my cock. How do you feel about that? Gorgeous, I miss you.”

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “I miss you, too,” I recited the words that I knew by heart.

  Never did I mean them, until I said them to Devon.

  Words can’t hurt you, unless you let them. And I knew they were slowly destroying him behind me. I could feel his hurt and pain, the damage that I was causing with the simple, yet pungent delivery of my performance. His feelings ran rapid all around me. I spun in it, hoping to feel comfort, but instead all I could feel was remorse.

  I could feel his warmth.

  His love.

  His kindness.

  And his passion for me; only me.

  I felt like I was standing, seconds away from being thrown into the death chamber. It was hard to breathe. I couldn't think clearly.

  Except, it wasn’t my execution.

  It was Devon’s.

  I was the slaughterer.

  I held his whole world in the palm of my hand, and I knew it. It’s where his heart was; I owned that, too. I closed my eyes, and spoke with conviction, about to push him into the flames and never see him again.

  “How much do you want to fuck me?” I panted, heavily breathing every word. “Do you want me to swallow your come?” I viscously spewed into the phone, knowing that he could hear everything. “Do you have any idea how hard you make me come? How good it feels when you’re deep inside me?” I stopped, not being able to carry on, biting my cheek till I tasted blood.

  I could not cry.

  I could not show weakness.

  I could not show emotion, or how I truly felt.

  It was the right thing to do.

  I needed to free him.

  I was not my father.

  “I’m going to fuck you all night… so that I can’t walk tomorrow, would you like that?” I baited.

  “You have no idea—” My cellphone was roughly ripped out of my hands, and thrown against the wall. It shattered into pieces.

  Exactly how my heart was about to.

  I would never expect what would happen next. Not in a million years.

  He crudely pulled me away from the window, before the final pieces of my cellphone splattered all over my hardwood floors. He shoved me up against the wall; my back hit it with a thud, knocking all the air from my lungs.

  “What the fuck?” I screamed out, profusely trying to catch my breath. He didn’t give me a chance to recover, or even acknowledge what the hell was happening, before he came at me. I tried to fight him off, but he was stronger than I was. He wasn’t being gentle or sweet, not the Devon that I knew and loved. I didn’t know this man who was aggressively manhandling me to the point of leaving bruises.

  “Devon, calm down,” I begged, being able to step toward him, but he didn’t falter, he pushed me up against the wall. His hands were firmly placed over my heart. This time my head had collided with the wall, and I was seeing stars.

&nbs

p; “Shhh…” he locked my hands above my head, cutting off my circulation. He grabbed my throat, placing my head securely against the wall… the same place my skull had knocked.

  My eyes swiftly opened when I felt his hold around my windpipe, leaving me with barely any air. It took a few more seconds for my eyes to register his face.

  That’s when I noticed it.

  Devon wasn’t standing in front of me.

  A glimpse of his father was.

  “And what exactly is that, Bambi? Huh? Is it the fact that we love each other? Is that the problem?” I argued, having enough of the bullshit and lies.

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Completely caught off guard with what I shared, and called her out on. Her cellphone rang again, and her eyes found the sound, but they quickly made their way back to me when it stopped ringing.

  “I don’t love you, Devon,” she boldfaced lied. “I’m sorry… I care deeply about you, but I don’t love you.”

  I watched her…

  I watched her every move.

  From her glazed over eyes that wanted to cry.

  To the sound of her voice that she prayed wouldn’t break apart.

  The way she pressed her fingernails into her hand to keep herself together.

  And most importantly, the sounds of her breathing and heart that I heard even with the distance between us.

  She knew that I could read her like a goddamn book, and that’s when she reached over to grab her cellphone that was ringing again.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” I heard the voice say on the other end.

  “Hi,” she lured, not looking at me, but at the floor instead.

  “I want to play… do you want to play?” he inquired, almost knocking me on my ass.

  The same words she has said to me countless times.

  The same phrase she has said to men countless times.

  She stepped out of her kitchen and strode over to her living room. I didn’t step away from the door. I was glued to the floor that felt like it was caving beneath me.

  “Of course I do. What did you have in mind?” Her voice was silky and smooth; it had that same velvety tone that drove me wild.

  The tone that I thought was for me.

  It was the same voice that she shared with other men.