Showing posts with label Hurt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hurt. Show all posts

Friday, March 31, 2017

Therapy

The wishes I have are simple.
The hopes I have are not new.
The things I have seen are not unheard of.
The faith I have has been betrayed.
My trust has not gone untested.
My heart has been broken.
But my eyes do see things.
My ears do hear.
My ways may be different.
My insight difficult to hear.
But I do know one thing.
It must be heard.

Friday, March 24, 2017

Chapter 4 (Except From "Things We Left Unsaid")




4



Paint Day
Humming she bent down slowly. The pregnancy slowed everything down. She was using a knife to open the can of buttercream paint she brought last week. Today was paint day and nothing was going to stop her.
Not even her pregnant protruding belly. They were going to do everything themselves. Taylor insisted she and Ian be the ones to decorate the rooms their child would sleep in. It was what expectant parents did. It was a bonding opportunity for the both of them.
Plus it was fun watching Ian struggle with figuring out how to work most of the tools. Used to paying others to decorate his home. Ian did not have a clue where to start.
Most of her morning had been spent directing him on how to properly prime the walls and place the painters tape. Carefully placing the paint top on the ground she bit her lip in concentration.
“Are you sure you want to paint the room yellow,” Ian asked for the fiftieth time.
Taylor smiled and looked over her shoulder. Shirtless, Ian looked sexy as he walked into the room wearing only sweat pants and carrying a cup of coffee. Because she refused to know the sex of the baby, he had been pushing for more gender-neutral colors.
“It is not yellow. It is buttercream.”
“Right, buttercream.”
Taylor picked up the paintbrush beside her and stirred the paint. “We chose a zoo theme. The buttercream will brighten the entire room.”
As he took a sip of his coffee, Ian walked over to her and slipped his hand over hers. Gently taking the paintbrush from her.
“You did most of the priming. I will do this. The last thing we need is this baby coming early because you can’t sit still.”
“Dee says I am nesting.”
“And I am all for it, but how about I take my turn?”
Taylor rolled her eyes and sat back as she gently rubbed her abdomen. In three more weeks she would finally be able to see her toes again.
The paint covers on their floor crinkled beneath her as Ian handed her his cup. She held it up to her nose and breathed deep.
“You have a serious problem.”
“It smells so good,” Taylor moaned longingly and settled onto the floor.
Oh caffeine… How she missed thee? She had given up coffee, sushi, hard liquor, red meat, and heels. Taylor practically lived in yoga pants and loose flowing blouses.
Ian only drank his coffee black. So simple. So plain. But she would take it. She would take anything at this point.
She liked her coffee with just a drop of creamer. No sugar. Or honey. Just creamer to make it just a little brown. Ian poured the paint into a pan and dipped his brush in.
Taylor sat back to watched her husband’s first attempt at painting. Licking her lips, she watched as the muscles in his back rippled. She really was a lucky girl, Taylor thought playfully.
The baby kicked causing Taylor to chuckle. “Keep up the good work and I will have to think up some type of prize.”
Ian laughed. The deep tenor of his voice sent spark of lust through her spin. Lately when she wasn’t thinking about food, she was thinking about sex. Her mind would spin off into these wild fantasies about Ian and herself sans the sixty pound she’d gained carrying their child.
Shaking her had she cocked her head to the side and studied the room. Because they weren’t sure about the baby’s gender. Taylor had opted for a gender-neutral room. Lots of non-specific gender colors.
“I still think we should paint a mural from a scene in the book “Where The Wild Things Are”,” Taylor wondered aloud.
“You are going to give the kid nightmares.”
“My kid is going to be fearless,” Taylor denied.
Ian dipped the brush back in the paint. “Fearless, huh?”
Taylor nodded. “Of course, with me as his or her mom. What else could he or she be?”
“Just you, huh?” Ian grinned over his shoulder.
Taylor caught his intense dark grey eyes. She could see the love and desire there. Ambling to her feet, Taylor had long given up looking like the graceful pregnant lady. She walked over to him and slipped her arms around his waist.
Kissing his shoulder blade before she laid her head on his shoulder. Taylor breathed in his scent.
“I am sure you will help too.”
*          *          *
There was an insistent buzz in his ears. Once Taylor dropped her bomb, Ian could not think or hear. He forgot everything and insisted she take him to Saint.
His son.
He had a son. Saint was currently sitting in Taylor’s lap and explaining to her the importance of a puppy in his life. Taylor was listening with an indulgent smile. They were seated on the cream leather sofa across from him.
Ian could hardly believe what he was seeing. The boy was smiling as he faced his mother. His curly hair looked brown beneath the sunlight streaming in through the main window of Taylor’s living room.
Saint had not paid much attention to him since their introduction. His campaign for a dog was not superseded by his curiosity over the stranger his mom brought home.
“The puppy can sleep on my bed. And Deedee and I can walk him. And feed him.”
Taylor rubbed his back as she sighed as she talked to him patiently. “Puppies like space. Living in our apartment would be torture for a puppy.”
“Piper has a dog. And she lives across the hall,” Saint pointed out.
“Piper’s dog is tiny,” Taylor reasoned.
Ian stared at the picture the two of them presented. Taylor had walked away from their marriage with enough money to by five homes and a small boat. Instead she lived in a small three-bedroom apartment.
From what he’d seen, Taylor drove a four-door sedan and did not dress in designer clothes. She’d never been a big spender. Because of the way she grew up, Taylor was practically allergic to what she considered to be wasteful spending.
“Mom,” Saint exclaimed placing his hand on Taylor’s cheek, “a boy needs a dog. Its man’s best friend.”
Taylor bit her lip in an effort not to laugh. “Okay”
Holding up her hands in surrender, Taylor nodded and smiled down at the boy. “How about this? If you stay out of trouble for a week with both Deedee and I. I will start looking for a dog.”
The toothy grin on his son’s face made Ian want to run out and buy a dog. The kid was perfect and he was health. The kid was his.




Monday, March 13, 2017

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Victim No Longer (Excerpt From "Billionaire's Contracted Family")

Hugging Asha to her chest, Isabella carefully navigated the stairs. Someone was ringing the doorbell like their life depended on it. Evan had gone out to run errands after their walk in the park. She had been about to give Asha a bottle and put the baby down for a nap.
She had a couple of client calls to return and reseach to do. She’d been thinking about taking some online nursing classes. Not finishing school was not something she wanted to regret in the future. Asha should have two role models to look up to.
The doorbell rang again and she rolled her eyes as Asha whimpered. Rushing into the living room, she laid Asha down in the empty playpen. Isabella did not like to answer the door with the baby in her arms.
“Just a minute,” she called out over her shoulder.
She had to get rid of the visitor before Asha realized her bottle had been delayed. Otherwise, she would cry the house down. Adjusting the straps of her top, Isabella turned towards the front of the house.
By the time she reached the door, she was ready to do some yelling of her own. Who the hell thought ringing the bell that many times did anything other than irritating the homes owners? Gripping the doorknob she yanked the door open ready to give them a piece of her mind. When her words caught in the center of her throat.
Tommy…
Every nightmare came crashing down at her as he grinned and pulled the sunglasses from his eyes. “Took you long enough, Bella.”
Shaking off the shock, Isabella tried to push the door close. Tommy slammed the flat of his palm down and shoved it back open.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Leave or I am calling the police.”
“I am the police. I came a long way to see you.”
Tommy hustled his way in and Isabella gave up on closing the door. Their alarm system would be triggered if left open for longer then five minutes. Besides she wanted the neighbors to hear if she screamed.
Like most cowards, Tommy would run if he thought he would get caught.
“You are trespassing on private land.”
He smirked and shoved a hand into the pocket of his faded jeans. The edge of his cotton button up were frayed. She did not remember him looking so shabby or so small. In her mind, he’d always been this tall muscle bound giant. He towered over everything and intimidated everyone.
He was still tall, but he didn’t tower. He still had muscles, but she knew that wasn’t everything. Her self-defense classes had taught her tactics to avoid the full impact of a hit. She wouldn’t curl up and wait for it to be over anymore.
“I just came to see an old friend.”
“We aren’t friends,” Isabella denied as she tried to remember where she left her cell.
She’d tucked it into Asha’s diaper bag when they left the house earlier. Evan hadn’t mentioned when he’d come back and their housekeeper had weekends off. She couldn’t risk leaving Asha alone downstairs while she ran to the nursery to get to her phone.
“That’s right,” Tommy reached out and tried to touch her arm, “we’re family.”
Stepping back, she tried to hide her shock. He couldn’t know about Asha. No one, but her and Evan knew the truth about her paternity.
“We aren’t anything. You are a mistake I will always regret making.”
Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “Is that what you told yourself when you left? Big bad Tommy deserves all the blame. Never mind the fact, you never could do anything right.”
Isabella huffed in disbelief. “I am not doing this.”
It had taken her months of therapy to see just how messed up she was. How ripe she was for a predator like him? Looking for love and acceptance after living in a home that had a short supply of both.
“How could you think I would let you walk away?”
“It isn’t about you. I didn’t need your permission.”
“You look good for a woman who recently gave birth.”
She eyed the alarm panel as a small red light started blinking. Their security team would make a routine check-in within two minutes. She just had to keep him in the front hall.
Asha picked that minute to start her plea for food. Tommy turned towards the noise and Isabella had never felt so scared in her life. He did not deserve to breath the same air as her daughter and he would have to kill her before he could spend any time with Asha.
“You need to leave,” Isabella repeated as she circled around to stand between him and the room Asha was in.
“You really thought you could keep me away from my daughter?”
“She isn’t yours.”
Tommy growled, “you were never a good liar.”
“Right. But I am a cheater, remember. My daughter is my husband’s. She has nothing to do with you.” Isabella saw the flash of anger in his eyes and the way his hands tightened into a fists.
He wanted to hit her and she wanted him to try. He would learn pretty quickly she wasn’t the same girl he terrified. She had something she wanted to protect more than she wanted to protect herself. Asha did not deserve a father like him.
Doubt held him back. She could see that to. He wasn’t sure Asha was his. He was fishing.
“Leave Tommy. You have no reason to be here.”
A SUV pulled into the driveway and two navy blue uniformed security guards stepped out. Isabella felt like she could breath again. First she would get Tommy out of the house, then she’d take Asha to Bianca’s and call Evan. Maybe she could talk him into going away for a few days?
Tommy looked down at her with undisguised contempt. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. DNA doesn’t lie. Do you really think a man like my husband, with the money he has, wouldn’t make sure the baby was his?”
She was lying through her teeth and she would probably pay for it one day. But she didn’t care. He had not business, standing there, demanding entrance into her life. He’d lost the right the first time he decided she needed to know what it felt like to be hit by a man.
“Mrs. Hunter?”
The guards stepped called out as they stepped onto her porch. She smiled and crossed her arms. He was going to leave this house one way or another.
“Leave Tommy. Or I will have security throw you out.”
Asha had one father. He rocked her to sleep and measured her food intake. He blew raspberries into her belly and read to her to sleep. He loved her and cherished her knowing she wasn’t his genetically. Most importantly…

He would die before hitting her. He wasn’t Tommy.

Jen A. Durand