Shattered (The Clans Book 7) Read online

  “I honestly don’t know much of what’s going on. Natasha and I haven’t seen her in two years, and she calls out of the blue the other night. I don’t know many details because I let that stay between the girls, but when Simion was born, Bethany was supposed to be here and wasn’t allowed or some shit by her husband. He’s some do gooder douchebag that I would guess is hiding some serious issues. I figure this whole thing must have to come down to him. Did she tell you anything?” Anton asks, leaning against the counter.

  “Yes, definitely the husband. She mentioned that he showed up at the hotel after tracking her down with the credit card. He was trying to get her back, but he was drunk and got violent when she said no. I would say you’re probably spot on about him having some hidden problems. It didn’t seem to me like he had ever hit her before, but I don’t doubt it would have come up at some point since he clearly has it in him,” I analyze, almost emptying my cup of coffee like my life depends on it -which, really, it does.

  Anton shakes his head. “That is such shit. I know when we met him before after Nina was born he seemed like he was going to be the perfect guy for her. Those political types are always out to fool someone.”

  I nod my head silently, letting the caffeine seep into my system and make me feel more alive.

  “So, since you’re only in town for another two days, what would you like to do?” he asks me, and part of me wants to just say right now I am not going back in two days. Romania has its positives, that’s for sure. There are a lot more things you can get away with in that kind of old world, and the landscape it beautiful, but I also do like to stay away for weeks at a time when I can. I love travelling and experiencing different places and cultures. I get so bored just sitting at home alone and guarding a territory that is pretty much guaranteed to us. I may have the reasons for wanting to hang around, but I am not ready to show all my cards yet, not even to Anton.

  “I actually need to go to the drug store and get some purple hair color,” I tell him with a shrug.

  Anton bursts into a fit of laughter. “Are you sure you aren’t a fairy?” He punches me on the shoulder playfully, and I laugh with him for a second. Not that I think it would even bother him if I was gay, but he just likes giving me so much shit.

  “No, man, I need to get purple hair color for Bethany. I think dying her hair some crazy color will make her feel better.”

  Anton instantly stops laughing, and while he says nothing more as empties his cup, he gives me a look like I might have a bug crawling on my damn face. Maybe that did reveal a little too much, but I genuinely want to help her. I don’t know why just yet, but that’s part of what today is, figuring it all out.

  Why does she intrigue me so much? What’s under all the makeup and surgery?

  “Well, she’s in the guesthouse now. Natasha moved her in there late last night so she can stay. Neither of them wanted to be explaining to the kids this morning what happened to Bethany with the bruises and shit.”

  Anton drifts out of the room, and I pour myself another cup of coffee and drink it before I slip on some jeans and run a comb through my hair before I head out, borrowing one of Anton’s many lavish vehicles to get me to the drug store just a few miles down the road. I leave the radio on whatever station Anton has it turned to last since I don’t now a ton about American music and just jam to the rock rap tune that is playing. It’s not half bad, and I am in a good mood when I pull up to the drug store.

  I get some looks as I enter and go straight for the hair dye aisle. I probably look out of place in such a nice car and my designer jeans, even though we are near a gated community. I know a lot of people think rich Americans are flashy, but they have nothing on Europeans who remain isolated in their little pods of money or no money.

  It doesn’t take me long to find some semi-permanent color in bright hues, and then I see this shiny, metallic, deep purple and grab it, checking out quickly so I can head back. When I get back to Anton’s house, instead knocking at the main house, I go into the guest house, which is unlocked. Hopefully, that means she is not still asleep, because I don’t want to wake her up if she is. But what I find is her curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her legs, a coffee mug in her hands, and an episode of Maury playing on television, probably a rerun.

  I smirk. “I don’t think watching fucked up TV is the answer for your troubles.”

  “Shit!” she curses as she jumps and spills her coffee on the couch cushion. I go into the guest bathroom and pull out a towel, helping her dab at the brown splotch she’s left behind. “What are you doing here?” she asks me, still a little startled to see me.

  I simply smile at her and pull out the hair color to show her. “We’re dying your hair today.”

  Chapter 6

  Bethany

  “Oh my fuckin’ gawd, I look ridiculous!” I squeal into the mirror as I see myself for the first time with my hair tangled and clipped up in various places. It has been about an hour since Leon came into the guesthouse offering to dye my hair purple, two boxes of dye in hand. I didn’t realize how long my hair was until he began to work the color through it, using almost all of the color in both boxes and having to separate chunk by chunk to make sure he got all of it.

  I didn’t know he would take me seriously when I told him I thought my next move should be something cliché like dying my hair, but I find the process both relaxing and liberating. It takes my mind off of things that have been going on like the bruises on my face and the fact that I am going to have to fight for a divorce with a man who doesn’t want it. Though, I still don’t understand that. What’s the point when he doesn’t want me anyway?

  I share the thought from my head and continue to laugh as my hair flops down when Leon pulls out the strands. The color has been setting in, and I can see a little of the results, though I know it will be more obvious in the coming days. It’s always been like that with the brown dye, so I am sure it will be just the same with this.

  Luckily, the doctor showed up early this morning and reset my nose, taping over it to hold it in place. It hurt like hell, but I am happy it won’t be permanently fucked up like my heart is right now.

  We go over to the tub amidst our giggles, and I take off my top so that I am down to just an undershirt, not wanting to soak my new shirt with color and water. I hang my head into the shower. Leon pulls down the sprayer and turns on the water, which is instantly hot. I had always wanted one of the tankless hot water heaters so I didn’t have to wait, but I had no say in anything in our house once we moved. Strange that I never noticed before.

  I watch as purplish pink water runs from my hair down the drain, some of it staining the white tub, and I know I will have to bleach it back later. Right now, I just want to enjoy the time I have with Leon. I am shocked he wants to spend the day with me, but he seems like a cool guy and really easy to talk to. Why couldn’t I have found a gay bestie like this is Philly to hang with? He would have told it to me straight about Noah a long damn time ago.

  When we get back into the living area, a towel wrapped around my head to keep it from dripping on the couch and staining more than I already have with the coffee, I see that another episode of Maury is on. I guess it’s some of kind if rerun marathon special, and I smile. Leon sits down next to me and takes the control out of my hand. At first, I think he is going to change the channel because of his comment before, but then he turns it up. “If we’re going to watch this fucked up shit, I want to make sure I really hear it,” he says, and I let out a half laugh half groan as my nose attempts to scrunch up with my face.

  “Want some Irish coffee?” I ask him, pointing to the lukewarm pot sitting on the coffee table along with a bottle of Bailey’s I had used to make my drink that morning.

  “Sure, I’ll get some for the both of us,” he says, giving me another one of his winks like he gave me the night before. He gets up and gets himself a fresh mug and pours us both some before sitting back down with me.

  “Thank you
for doing this, I really needed it.” I pat my towel covered head.

  “I figured it was the least I could do. I can’t imagine going through what you did, but I imagine you could use a little bit of color in your life,” he says.

  We both turn to Maury and see that it is one of his paternity test episodes - some of the best ones that I love. I know it’s not supposed to be healthy to watch this stuff, but it is a guilty pleasure of mine.

  When it goes on break, he turns to me and asks me, “So, you’re from here, Miami, right? How did you end up away from here? I’ve heard Natasha and Anton mention you were in Philly.”

  I frown for a moment, but I realize it’s not a big deal. I don’t have many friends anymore. Natasha is it, and she has a whole life to deal with; a husband and kids, so it’s nice having someone to talk to openly about what’s been running through my head. Maybe he can help me analyze this all and stop making it a jumbled mess in my head. What were GBFs for anyway?

  “My husband - fiancé at the time, was into politics and things. He wanted to eventually end up as DA, and Pennsylvania has a better pollical climate for him and his values than Miami,” I explain. “I kind of just went with him without question. I was so in love, and he was my future.” I shrug. It made so much sense at the time, but I can’t say that logically anymore now that I busted my bubble that was surrounding me and hiding the truth; that he isolated me and tried to turn me into something that I wasn’t.

  “It makes sense. It’s something most people would do for love,” Leon comments. I like that he is still trying to reassure me that it’s not all my fault. I don’t know how he can read me so well. As strong as I am, and as much as I absolutely blame this on Noah’s manipulative personality, deep down I do worry that I brought this upon myself for being stupid or always choosing the wrong men. I fall too fast and ignore all the red flags. It’s not something that hasn’t happened to me before, but it’s never been on this scale. Never led to me marrying someone and running away to another state.

  “Thanks, but it was the least of things I did for love,” I admit to him. I don’t know why I am spilling it all, but it just feels nice to get it off my chest. And maybe it’s easier because he is not someone who knew me before, so he is not judging me on that.

  “What do you mean?” he asks me, and I notice we have gotten a little closer, and the blanket is draped over both our legs. Anton and Natasha keep it a freezing 65 degrees in here.

  “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time because this marriage pretty much took little pieces of me until I was someone else. I happily did it all for him, believing the things I changed were minor and would make me better. And I did them out of love. I thought it would make me look good next to him and further his career and strengthen our marriage, but it was never me. I didn’t even know how suffocated and isolated I was until the night I left. It was our anniversary too. I caught him cheating with his secretary, who happened to be one of my only true friends. Well, I thought she was that. She was the only one I was allowed to get close to.”

  I sigh and relax, watching Maury reveal that some douche bag on the show who insisted his beautiful girlfriend was a cheating ho and the baby wasn’t his find out that indeed, it was his.

  “Then, what were you like before? What’s so different?”

  I don’t know why I am taken aback by the question. It’s pretty logical considering what I just revealed, but I don’t think I was ready for it. It means talking about a person I lost, and that’s much harder when that person is yourself.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything. I just was making conversation,” Leon says, sensing my hesitation.

  “No, that’s okay. The sooner I can talk about it, the sooner I get to heal and move on, right? So, I was a lot of fun, really ambitious, and certainly not some trophy wife type. I was really a hopeless romantic, a little desperate maybe, but I was definitely a Miami bitch. I actually had blonde hair and a flat chest, believe it or not.” I bite my lip, hating to admit that unless I am ready for another surgery, I will be carrying that one around for a while. At least the other modifications will wear off if I so will them to. I haven’t decided yet.

  “Ah, boob job. I figured but didn’t want to say anything. I am guessing then that it wasn’t your idea exactly?”

  I shake my head. “No. He brought it up first and offered to pay. He made it sound so smart and like I would feel so great about myself, not at all like he had a problem with how I looked. I think it was the influence of the community we were in. Men in politics and rich men like to brag about whose wife is the best looking, and their standards aren’t exactly PG. I have lip fillers and other stuff too. All his idea.” I frown, realizing for the first time just how bad it is. It’s like not a single piece of my body or mind has been mine at all the past two years.

  “Bethany, if I ever cross the path of this dick, I will make sure he suffers greatly before he dies.”

  I raise my eyebrow at Leon for a moment before I burst into laughter. “Good one, thanks. I know what you mean.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh, just what you said. I know there’s no way my GBF is going to actually hurt anyone, but that made me feel better thank you,” I tell him, clapping my hand down on his thigh as the towel falls out of my hair from my sudden movement. I let it sit feeling like my hair must be dry enough for now.

  “GBF?” he asks, repeating it as if it’s foreign. Which, I guess I can see. I think he is actually from another country; Italy or Romania or something. I’ll have to remember to ask him.

  “Oh, yeah, that means gay boyfriend. It’s what us girls call our besties who are gay men,” I tell him.

  He lets out a little chuckle and then shakes his head. “I am very much not gay, Bethany. In fact, if this shit with your ex wasn’t going on, I would have hit on you already.”

  My cheeks get hot as I realize how open and close I have been with him all day, and he isn’t even gay. I don’t know whether to run or kiss him for saying that.

  Chapter 7

  Leon

  Fuck.

  That is the only word for what is going on with me right now.

  Firstly, I can’t believe that yet another person assumed I was gay, but it’s funnier than it is offensive. The look on Bethany’s face made me want to burst out into full on hysterical laughter, but I somehow held it in and told her it was alright. That she hadn’t hurt my feelings or embarrassed herself as much as she thought. That I had a good time with her. Then, we had all joined in the dining room in the main house for dinner, following me helping Bethany cover up her bruising with heavy makeup. Yes, I know, that doesn’t really help my case. I can’t say I would do such a thing for just anyone whether I am skilled at it or not. But there is something about her that makes me just want to be near her. I think it is this new journey she is about to take rediscovering herself. It’s fascinating to watch her bloom, coming out of this horrible relationship and realizing all the things she missed. It makes her seem so alive, and despite all the fake stuff all over her body, she is glowing.

  I am sure over time the fillers will all fade, and she will probably choose to let them go, appreciating who she really is. And there seems to be nothing hotter than a woman who is confident in herself and truly knows who she is with no apologies.

  It’s ironic that right after I am summoned to New York to discuss my lack of relationship and if I am going to be giving my Clan an heir that I met a woman with the potential of bringing me out of this funk I am in. Though, I don’t consider it a funk. It doesn’t bother me to be alone the same way it does other people. I like company but don’t need a woman. I want to want a woman and not have to have her, to possess her. I think that’s better for both of us. But it’s a little scary that I feel something for her so quickly. It was something instant between us when I looked in her eyes, and the conversation comes so easy. Maybe it was because she thought I was gay, but I’d like to think it’s because we have a na
tural connection.

  I know it is totally the wrong time to go directly after her. She is about to go through a divorce and needs a little space, but I can be patient while I am there for her. But I am afraid to be away from her and lose my spot by her side and my spot in her head, for that matter.

  After dinner, she goes back to the guest house, and Natasha follows her with the kids to have some girl time while I stay in the main house with Anton, having promised a guy’s night since technically it was supposed to be my last night here. I doubt that’s happening, though because I can’t imagine not continuing to build whatever this is with Bethany right now. I have to follow my heart and all that shit.

  I follow Anton up the stairs into the game room and den and help him set up a game of pool. He’s already got the alcohol poured, at least for him. I have declined considering how much I have already had today. I don’t like being super drunk, so I need to sober up here.

  He breaks the rack and shoots two stripes in before he turns to me and narrows his eyes. I know something is coming, some kind of lecture, but I don’t know what it is about this time.

  “So, what the hell do you think you are doing with Bethany?” he asks me. He doesn’t look mad but seriously curious, and maybe a bit like I am insane.

  “I know she doesn’t look like my type, but she needs some encouragement right now -”

  “So, you feel the need to hit on her?” he cuts me off, and I shake my head.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From Natasha.”

  Well, that was fast. I don’t even know when the two of them had to talk privately. Maybe the two had texted or something. Women were good at that. But something must have been lost in translation.