Beautiful Disaster /A Jordan Knight FanFic/ Book Two in the Beautiful series ✔️

28

Jordan

BETWEEN THE STRAIGHT-BACKED CHAIR BY Dallas' hospital bed last week, the couch in Glory Falls, the dusty, lumpy mattress in the shed, and sleeping again under my piano last night, I haven't been in a bed in what feels like weeks.

I'm like a homeless person living in a mansion, minus the shopping cart. I sit up slowly, making sure nothing hurts. The floor is worse than Aunt Ruthie's couch. Just days ago I woke up with that damn cushion like a springy knife in my back and Kai curled up to my front instead of in her nice, comfy bed up the hall.

Only days ago I thought we were on the right track. In addition to being in the best place we've ever been in our relationship, or so I thought, she had given me permission to get her out of the shitty deal with Malcolm. She was coming to work with me at Prodigy. She promised to marry me when the time was right. We even talked about kids.

It was heaven that all went to hell with just a few words in a few moments. Dallas should have said to me weeks ago. I know I had a strong reaction when I first found out Drex and Dallas had a one-night stand. I understand her hesitation, but to lie to me for this long? To set a plan in motion . . . and I use the word "plan" loosely . . . that would leave me in the dark completely about something so important? A secret she would have kept from me forever? That's our problem, not the fact that someone is threatening her with a sex tape.

But damn if that video didn't cut through me like a scythe, leaving a curved trail of guts and emotions. I knew Gep would need to see it, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to. I only made it through a few seconds, but I wish I could take those seconds back. Like I'm gonna watch some punk ass fucking my girl for five minutes. Even if it wasn't Drex I couldn't do that. Each frame was a nail drilling into my eye, an anvil swinging at my head. And that smug smile on his damn face, I'll punish him for that. I'll punish him for making the tape at all. I've never felt this level of unadulterated hatred for anyone. Not even for him, but doing this to Dallas goes too far.

Even if I can barely be civil to her right now.

I know I have to find a way to forgive her. She forgave me. I get it, but it doesn't change how betrayed I feel. How galling it is to know that once again she trusted San with something she didn't give me. That she held a threat in the palm of her hand in that shed and lied to me outright about it. Every time I'm with Dallas I feel emotionally naked, like she has unrestricted access to every part of me. I don't want to hide anything from her, and that was only possible because I thought she felt the same.

But she didn't.

And I'm really struggling to get past how I deceived myself that she felt that, too.

When I saw her curled up last night at the base of the stairs from my music room . . . God, I just wanted to fuck her right there on the steps, to bury my body so deep there would be no room for even vestiges of anyone else. To exterminate all the termites chewing through my brain after seeing Drex with her in a way that only I should ever be with her. But I couldn't do it. Sex between us right now would do exactly what Dallas thought it would have done before. It would give us a false sense of intimacy. Give us a false sense of rightness. Because nothing is right, not right now.

In addition to the knotted muscles in my back, I'm starving. And there's not much time to eat. I have to hit this day running. Gep assured me he'd find Drex where San and his minions failed, and I need to be ready to move as soon as he does.

And when I find that motherfucker . . .

After a quick shower, the sight of Dallas already in the kitchen truncates the thoughts of how I'll punish Drex. Several delicious scents hang in the air around her. The smell of strawberries from the jar of preserves open on the counter tangles with her cinnamon pear soap. I smell the toast popped up in the toaster mingling with the rich roast coffee brewing. The sweetest and most addictive scent is the most subtle—just Dallas. Just whatever chemistry mixes in that tight, petite body to make her skin, unadorned, smell the way it does without soap, perfumes, or anything else. I can never get enough of it.