Beautifully Broken: If You Leave Part 31

Chapter Twenty.

Gabriel

f.u.c.k you, Gabe.

I stare at my phone, at the last words from Maddy.

My gut clenches with every word, more and more, over and over.

f.u.c.k you, Gabe.

What the f.u.c.k did I do?

For two days I've been asking myself that question. And for two days I haven't had a good answer. The only thing I know is that I can't hurt Madison again and this was the only way I knew to protect her.

But G.o.d. G.o.d, it f.u.c.king sucks. All I want to do is pick up the phone and call her, to check on her... to explain.

You're a f.u.c.king p.u.s.s.y.

Because I can't. If I do, if I hear her voice, I might be tempted to forget all my misgivings and fears about hurting her and rush back to her. Not that she'd likely take me back at this point.

f.u.c.k you, Gabe.

How I got myself into this situation, into a place where I love someone even though I know I can't have her... it's all my fault. I knew going in that I can't ever be with anyone. That I'm not whole. That I'm not normal.

That I'm a monster.

That I'm the bad thing.

I knew all of this. And I chased her anyway... because I had to f.u.c.k her, I had to harness the storm that I knew she would be.

And now I love her and everything is f.u.c.ked up.

I have no one to blame but myself.

With a sigh I return my attention to this f.u.c.king interview.

Brand set up some second interviews for an a.s.sistant, one who would be based here in Denver since this is where the factory will be. He did the first interviews, so I have to do the second ones. It's only fair.

But I overslept this morning and so I had to meet this morning's candidate in my hotel room, rather than the cafe on the main floor.

As she talks to me, her words run together, her voice fades to the background, and I don't really give a flying f.u.c.k what she's talking about. My thoughts are in Angel Bay with a gorgeous blonde.

"So, that's about it," the girl, Alex, finishes up, smiling at me. "And I'm available to start immediately."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I smile absently as I glance at her resume in my hand.

"OK. Well, I know Brand has already interviewed you, so we'll talk and then one of us will get back to you."

Alex smiles again from where she's sitting at the table in my hotel room. She's young and sort of pretty. Her eye makeup is thick and dark, slightly smeared at the corners. Her red lipstick is severe. As I watch, she crosses, then uncrosses her legs.

h.e.l.lo, shaved p.u.s.s.y. I can't believe my eyes. Did she just give me a shot of her crotch on purpose? What the h.e.l.l?

"I really need this job," she tells me, her voice turning husky and suggestive. "Is there anything I can do to get it?"

Boom. She did. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l. It's like the universe is offering her to me, giving me an opportunity to take my mind off Madison.

Surely it won't be that easy.

But Alex is getting up and moving toward me, her eyes on my lips.

"I can be very persuasive," she whispers as she shoves me backward onto the bed, sliding her slim form between my legs.

"You definitely can," I agree, automatically sliding my hands up her hips. "Did you try and persuade Brand like this?"

She giggles. "No. I didn't need to. He told me that he likes me. If you like me, then I get the job."

h.e.l.l.

My conscience disappears as the blood flow is redirected from one head to the other.

"Well, you'd better show me your qualifications."

Alex bends her head, kissing me firmly. She tastes like chocolate. It's foreign, but not unpleasant. I kiss her back.

"You know, you don't have to do this," I finally tell her, and I'm actually not sure if I'm telling her or myself.

"I want to," she tells me. "Have you looked at yourself?"

So now she's appealing to my ego too. Smart girl.

She reaches down and cups my d.i.c.k, making it a perfect trifecta. Hormones, ego, d.i.c.k. She's got her bases covered. My body reacts like it always does. It gets hard.

I roll her over and cover her body with mine, sliding my hand up under her short skirt. I should've known something was up when she wore such a tiny skirt to an interview.

I get harder as I slip my fingers into her.

My thoughts cloud as I move toward an ending that I know will take me away from reality, from stress, from worrying about doing the right thing, from Madison.

When I do this, I don't have to think.

I just have to feel.

It's natural, instinctive.

Alex moans and I close my eyes. I don't want to see her. I just want to feel her. I move my fingers inside her deeper, faster. And then I shove her skirt up higher, not bothering to take it off.

She fumbles to help me, saying my name. The breathy way she says it gives me pause and I open my eyes.

She's splayed out on the rumpled hotel bed like an offering, her hair mussed.

The way she said my name reminded me of Madison.

I swallow hard, frozen above her, suspended.

"What?" she asks in confusion, opening her eyes. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't sound like Madison now. She doesn't look like her, doesn't smell like her. Because she's not Madison.

She might not be Madison, but in my head that's all I see. Maddy's grin, her blue eyes, her gorgeous body. I picture the expression on her face when she was on my lap the other night, loving, soft, understanding.

f.u.c.k you, Gabe.

I feel the pulse in my throat as I try to swallow around it. Maddy doesn't want me. Not anymore and I can't blame her. And if there's one way to get one woman out of my head, surely it's to f.u.c.k another one.

Someone who does want me.

I shake my head.

"Nothing's wrong," I finally lie.

I turn my attention back to Alex and run my fingers along her side, a side that is thicker than Maddy's. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"I want it hard," she moans. "f.u.c.k me hard, Gabe."

A sour taste pools in my mouth, but I ignore it as I drop my head and bury it in Alex's neck and unfasten my shorts. She grips my shoulders tight, pulling me to her, burying her tongue in my mouth.

She doesn't taste right.

She doesn't smell right.

And my d.i.c.k knows it because all of a sudden I'm not hard anymore.

I push against her again, but it's no use. I'm not hard. I'm not going to get hard. Because all I can see in my head is Madison. I roll off and head to the shower without looking back.

I can hear Alex's confused questions behind me, but I don't care.

As the water rushes down over my head and shoulders, I crank the handle all the way over to cold.

f.u.c.k.

I'm in seriously deep s.h.i.t here.

A flash of Madison pops into my head again. Her blue eyes, soft and sincere. Her long slender legs wrapped around my hips.

You're someone who won't hurt me.

I practically groan. I have the feeling I could sleep with a thousand different women in a thousand different hollow f.u.c.ks and I'd never be able to shake Maddy from my mind.

If I can f.u.c.k someone else, which is apparently questionable.

What is it about Madison that holds me so tight?

Everything.

I groan. Is it possible that I could be with her and not hurt her?

It's a moot question since I've already left her. But it's a question that I can't quite shake.

The idea of that kind of intimacy sends my stomach up into my throat and I lean my head against the shower wall. That kind of intimacy is terrifying.

But all of a sudden, for reasons that I can't understand and can't explain, being without it is terrifying too.

After five days, I decide that I f.u.c.king hate Denver.

I f.u.c.king hate my life.

And I f.u.c.king hate myself.

I'm pretty sure all these feelings are very apparent to everyone around me because I've been a total d.i.c.k.

Today, after meeting with the potential contractors at the new factory site, Alex and I came back to the table in my hotel room to look through their bids. But I don't want to be here. There's only one place I want to be and if I can't be there, then f.u.c.k everyone.

I rub at my red eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. The whiskey I've been using to try to fix my bad att.i.tude has had the exact opposite effect. Hangovers f.u.c.king blow.

Alex hands me some ibuprofen. "Here. This will help."

"Thanks," I mutter, knocking four of them back with some water.

For some reason Alex is sticking close by, she gets here early and she stays late.

It's like she took my inability to perform with her and my distance and my d.i.c.khead att.i.tude as a personal challenge. I can't figure it out, but then again, I can't figure out women in general.

"How long do you think you'll be here?" Alex asks absently, running her finger along my back. I instinctively move away. She's been touching me at every opportunity, because she clearly believes that she's irresistible. She has no idea how much it's not working for me.