Chapter 24
Bella
Rage.
Love.
Passion.
They were often closely tied together, and with Creed, that had proven itself time and time again in the few days we’d known each other.
I still considered the night an amazing fairytale, everything a girl could want right down to the incredible sex. However, seeing the haunted look on his face, as if he was remembering something horrific from his past had reminded me that he was in a precarious position.
So was I.
This wasn’t a fairytale no matter how much money he spent on me or the fantastic places he took me. Still, the closeness I’d felt with him, including the man allowing me to be in his arms for several hours continued to jab at my mind. I was uncertain how to act around him or even what he wanted.
What I had been certain of was that he’d been afraid of hurting me, which is why he’d left, returning smelling like scotch.
I bit my lower lip, wanting some fresh air. While I’d been hesitant to try any of the locks, as I stared out the set of the French doors leading to a fabulous deck, the lake not far away, I wanted the feeling of real freedom if only for a little while. The moment I placed my hand on the latch, I glanced over my shoulder. I’d seen several soldiers walking the grounds, including Christen, who obviously didn’t like me very much after our sparring incident, but no one was in the house at this point.
At least other than the two girls I’d seen tidying up the place. They’d been polite but certainly not talkative.
And I felt so lonely, missing Jonas more than anything. I’d even turned on the news hoping to hear something but even with his father being the DA, I’d found no mention of his murder. Maybe that meant his family had bought that it was a suicide. The ache was still raw, just like what I’d felt the night before. Everything was far too complicated, so much so I wasn’t certain what to believe about anything any longer.
I turned the handle, shocked that five alarms hadn’t gone off in tandem. I took a deep breath before heading outside. For a man who lived by rules, Creed had been in a hurry, not bothering to lay then out for me.
Other than he would go hunting if I dared try to leave him.
As serious and dangerous as the statement had been, I found myself laughing about it as I walked onto the deck. The air was crisper than it had been, the light breeze providing the heavenly scent of freshly cut grass. Whoever he’d hired as a landscaper was doing an incredible job. From the perfect patterns from the lawnmower to the perfect shade of green, the area in front of the lake was breathtaking.
There was that word again. Perfect.
There was no such thing in this life or any others for that matter, including with me. But Creed continued insisting that’s what I was. As well as his salvation.
I shuddered from the thought, moving closer to the railing. I could see a soldier in the distance, walking as if trained in the military. Maybe he had been. At least I could breathe in the fresh air, which helped to start clearing the cobwebs from my mind almost immediately.
I’d paid little attention to the outside surroundings given the amazing trip. There were two boats attached to an incredible dock stretching far out into the water. It was funny. I’d had one boyfriend in my life, a guy who’d ended up far too controlling but he’d taught me to appreciate boats, even showing me the ropes driving one. They were floating silently and I wondered how often a man like Creed allowed himself to enjoy any of the luxuries he owned.
The light breeze was chilly enough that even in my sweat gear I folded my arms across my chest and headed to the far side of the deck. I also hadn’t paid any attention to the insanely gorgeous pool and outdoor kitchen, complete with a real tiki hut. There were various vividly colored umbrellas and matching lounge chairs with pillows. It was crazy, but I could envision a birthday party for a little girl or boy. I could almost hear the laughter and cries of a bunch of kids enjoying a gorgeous afternoon in the pool while their parents sipped on adult libations.
At least I could smile at the thought. I doubted that Creed was the kind of man who could ever understand how important it was to have a close family. What was I saying? I wouldn’t know. The only time I’d ever felt close to my mother was when she had me coiffed and looking perfect while standing in front of a camera and her adorning fans.
Thoughts and images rushed into my mind, including about my mother. He’d allowed me to call and confirm she was safe in a new place, one I’d heard of but would never have been able to afford without his help. Help? He’d taken a huge burden off me, but he was almost as angry with the way my mother had treated me as I was with his father. We were two strange birds, our upbringings not the best.
I felt a presence behind me a few seconds later and was shocked how excited I was instantly, eager to see a man I should hate. When I turned around to see Christen standing in the doorway, I was certain he was planning on chastising me for disobeying some unknown rule.
“Yes?” I asked, the defiance in my voice dripping.
“Something arrived for you. It’s in the kitchen.”
He studied me intently before backing away, saying nothing else.
I waited a couple of seconds before heading back inside, immediately shocked to see my favorite color roses in yet another gorgeous vase. The scent rocked the entire room, the sweet thought adding tingles to my system.
There was a note on a gold foil package, the huge iris-colored bow adding a stunning touch. I took a few seconds before racing toward the items like a kid on Christmas morning. The card was written in calligraphy, another step in Creed’s determination to seduce and own me.
I hope this makes up for what I almost ruined last night.
I need you to dance for me, perfect dancer.
You drive the demons away.
It’s time to enter your new world at the end of the hall.
Your presence is requested.
Do not wait for my return.
Feel free, my little butterfly.
You remain on my mind…
Always yours
Creed
His almost apology was heartfelt, but the man wasn’t certain how to react to guilt or misunderstandings, which is why he remained so volatile. And I honestly had no idea what to make of the gesture. Was this some crazy aspect of mind control? I rubbed my fingers on the bow before a grin slipped across my face and I ripped into the package, unable to help myself.
When I opened the box, I laughed at first because they were so beautiful. Red toe shoes.
They reminded me of the ruby slippers that allowed a girl and her dog to return home to Kansas once upon a time. I chewed on my lip as I continued to hold them in my hands. The crazy thing was that I was wearing dance clothes under a pair of sweatpants, longing to be able to dance my sins and my anxiety away. In another small box were the wraps I needed and a cotton pad for my toes. He’d researched everything, including my size.
With the shoes in my hand, I raced from the kitchen, trying to remember how I’d gotten to the blocked off room in the first place. When I noticed the closed door at the end of the hall, I stopped short, listening for any sounds.
There was nothing but the same silence that had greeted me the moment he’d walked outside of the house. I took tentative steps at first, finally lunging toward the door in seconds. When I opened it, I couldn’t have been more shocked.
He’d turned what had to be three rooms into a very large dance studio, two walls covered with mirrors and ballet bars. One housed the same style of oversized windows as every other room in the house and the other held bookshelves with music, a stereo system, and backed a gorgeous Steinway piano. The floor was perfect and I ripped off my shoes, walking barefoot across the floor before spinning around in glee.
Was it so wrong of me to enjoy the fact he wanted to provide me with everything I needed?
He’s a madman. You can’t forget that.
My inner voice would need to poke me now, reminding me of all the bad things, just like she’d done when I was a child.
If only you could make straight A’s, she’d love you.
If only you were pretty like her, then she’d love you.
If only you weren’t such a problem child, then she’d love you.
I closed my eyes, becoming furious I’d thought about the past at a moment like this.
You’re just like him. Broken. Broken. Broken. Broken.
If you hadn’t been born, I’d still have him. He’d be with me!
Her hysteria and fury were always worse when she was sucking down vodka, but some nights were worse than others. They were the ones when I’d crawl under the covers, pretending I was a princess locked in a castle, just waiting for my handsome prince to take me away.
“I hate you,” she’d sobbed so many times. “I hate you for taking him from me.”
“I know, Mama. I know.”
I closed my eyes, a horrible chill drifting down my back. I couldn’t allow myself to relive the nightmare all over again. I just couldn’t.
Finally, the ugly little voice faded, but her nagging would leave enough unwanted thoughts to build a nightmare.
No, I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to dance. I headed for the music system, finding exactly the kind of piece that could help take my personal demons away. As I tore off my sweatshirt and pants, tossing them onto one of two benches, I was already swaying to the music. Who in their right mind would perform a little disco number to Chopin or Prokofiev?
It didn’t take long before I was in a better mood, once again running my fingers down the side of the crimson satin. The toe shoes were beautiful, albeit not something usually worn in various ballets. Well, maybe Joffrey. They always matched the leotards and costumes to the point shoes.
I added all the necessities, holding my breath as I slipped my right foot into the first one, pressing the tip of my toe onto the floor. Yes, it was perfect. As I laced one then the other, I tried not to think about all the bad things that had occurred.
Including the loss of my friend.
Maybe staying in the haze I’d been in for three or four days was the best option, the only way I could handle the events and tragedies. But for right now, it was time to dance. Given it had been a few days, I moved to the bar, doing several pliés followed by a series of relevés. After bending over and stretching my hamstrings, I moved further away from the bar, straightening my back before shifting into a pique turn. I held the stance, lifting my arms in a perfect formation, my hands just so as I’d been taught to do my entire life.
I was supposed to be regal, royalty. At least that’s what my very first teacher, Mrs. Chamberlain had told the class of six-year-olds. She’d made dancing seem magical, which was why I’d fallen in love with the art in the first place.
Even though my mother had hated her, trying to get her fired.
I stopped, slumping over as another ugly memory threatened to derail my activity. I’d never thought of it this way, but my mother was so unhappy, I was surprised she never chased me around the house with a coat hanger in her hand.
At least I could giggle at my stupid reference to the old story about another famous actress in Hollywood. I sucked in my breath, moving to execute a series of sautés, leaping high into the air. As I split my legs, the feeling of flying taking over, I was suddenly lost in the beautiful music. It was piped through several unseen speakers, the quality one of the best I’d ever heard. Within a few seconds, I was completely absorbed in the moment, flying around the room, spinning almost out of control.
The moment was as freeing as any I’d had, my heart pounding from the exertion as well as a weight that continued to push down against my diaphragm. But I refused to allow the joy of the dance to be lost.
Another song began and I pushed myself even harder, spinning and twirling, leaping and flying. The beat was incredible, gothic and dark yet exactly what my psyche needed. I even closed my eyes several times, completely comfortable with my surroundings, using almost every inch of the room, including the glossy piano to lean against, lifting my leg higher than I’d ever had it.
I laughed softly, spinning one more time as the music slammed into a powerful crescendo. Everything was perfect. When I came down, crouching onto the floor in a dramatic finish, I was gasping for air from excitement.
And I felt a presence.
He was here.
Watching me.
Hungering for me.
As Creed began to applaud, a warm flush set down from my face and neck directly to my pussy. I was no longer shocked at my reaction to the man, only longing to feel this way forever.
“Bravo,” he came close to shouting. “Bravo. Magnifico.”
He continued clapping and I finally rose to my feet, our eyes locking together. He looked magnificent, a beacon of light in the very strange darkness. I was pulled into a similar vacuum as before and suddenly, we both were drawn to each other. Like flies to honey.
Like moths to a flame.
When he was only a foot away, he shook his head slowly. “My perfect dancer.”
“I’m not a perfect anything.”
“Oh, yes, you are, my beautiful woman. Perfect in every way.”
“Don’t keep saying that. I will disappoint you one day.” The words slipped out easily, but it was another moment of confusion. Did I really expect this was going to last? I had to be out of my mind if I did.
“You will never disappoint me, baby.”
Now he was calling me baby. I wasn’t certain how I felt about that except for awkward. I flitted backward, adding a series of pirouettes, followed by a grand battement. I moved around him, touching his shoulders and arms, enticing him while beckoning at the same time.
“Dance with me,” I finally said as he stood stoically, his entire body ready to erupt into flames, his heated look more lust filled than I’d seen before.
“Not this way. I need you to dance for me. Only me. Always for me,” he finally said, ripping off his jacket and not bothering to pay attention to where it landed. He walked toward the piano, his chest rising and falling. It was almost like he was in a trance, only one thing on his mind.
At least at this point.
Requiring me to dance or him, becoming his perfect doll in a way that would allow him to feel the hold he had over me. As he rolled his sleeves past his elbows, I almost felt as if he was connecting strings to my joints, turning me into a dazzling puppet.
When he sat down, lifting the lid of the Steinway, I moved to the stereo, turning off the music. The anticipation of hearing him play was almost as exciting as dancing. I struck a pose while he cracked his knuckles, shocked how nervous I’d become.
As he started to play, his fingers drifting over the bass notes, I sucked in my breath and lifted my head. He was playing the same concerto I’d danced to the night I’d met him, only his version was even darker, full of such angst and sadness that I couldn’t move for a few seconds.
“I chose that music,” I said, thinking I’d whispered the words but he’d heard them.
“I had a feeling you had, perfect dancer. We’ve been connected for a long time, perhaps our entire lives. The music soothes the beast.”
He was almost melancholy when he issued the words.
I’d also never thought he could be so emotional, his body language totally unlike any pianist I’d seen before. I couldn’t understand why he’d never taken his talent to an orchestra, auditioning. Or maybe he’d been a protégé, forced to play for the bastard of a father he had.
He finally lifted his head, his eyes pulling me further into the darkness than ever before. But with a single nod, he gave not only his approval but also his encouragement for me to dance.
And so, I did.
Being able to get lost in the music I’d heard was a gift. Performing was in my blood but it was truly all about enjoying my craft, not just preening for an audience. And in the ten or so minutes as Creed performed like a maestro, I was allowed more freedom with the dance than I’d had before.
As the music hit its peak, shifting into the incredible finale, I caught another glimpse of the powerful man. Beads of sweat were falling down both sides of his face, his expression pained but I knew the man wasn’t suffering. No, he was exalted in the moment, his perfect dancer performing the music that had drawn him to me in the first place.
Why did I have a feeling there was more of a meaning with the gothic piece than he’d yet to tell me? After dropping into the ending position, the song slowly came to a close. And I was the one who was clapping this time.
Creed kept his hands on the keys for a full minute before lifting his head. I don’t know why I’d expected to see a smile on his face. It was exactly the opposite, but I also sensed the music was indeed healing for him, allowing the demons I’d seen several times to be cast out, unwanted.
And more important, unneeded.
“You’re a true maestro,” I said before I realized I had.
He slowly closed the lid, his chest still heaving. I wasn’t certain whether there was tension between us or something else but as I walked closer to the piano, I sensed that for the first time he was uncertain what to say to me.
So, I spoke instead. “My mother used to tell me that she hated me, that she’d wished I’d never been born because the man she loved with all her heart left because she was pregnant. I never told anyone that. I was too embarrassed.”
The way he fisted his hands as he rose to his feet was a clear indication of his extreme fury. He had the ability and means to end my mother’s life if he became that angry. Maybe I was a fool for telling him, but it felt natural expounding on my darkest secrets.
“The truth is I hate her too. I know that’s terrible for a daughter to say about her mother, but I can’t help it. I just…” I exhaled, trying to allow the tension to bleed from my body. It wasn’t working.
He was studying me as if seeing me for the first time. “My father had many enemies over the years, ruthless men who wanted to take what we had. Back then, crime syndicates were brutal in every way. There was no code of ethics. My brothers and I used to think he wasn’t such a horrible man because he was trying to protect us. That wasn’t the truth. He was just a monster, trying his best to hold onto his precious possessions, the money he’d extorted or blackmailed from others.”
I was struck by the lack of emotion in his voice, but the haunted look in his dark eyes made up for it.
“It was like the O.K. Corral back then, the streets filled with blood and violence, the police yet to be completely owned by any of the powerful families. In the early days when the FBI joined in, the heat became unbearable for my father as he continued his quest to get rid of the men and families who stood in his way of becoming king of Chicago. So, he found a perfect way to eliminate those he hated. A hunt on his five hundred acres of property. He thought he was so clever, abducting one enemy after another when they least expected it, pretending he’d give them a chance to live if they finished the course before they were caught. But he was lying as he did about almost everything else. He slaughtered them with primitive weapons, forcing his most trusted men to carve up the bodies, burying them in shallow graves on the property. No fuss. No muss.”
Gasping, I placed my hand across my heart. “Oh, my God. How horrible.”
He almost smiled as he walked from around the piano, taking very slow steps as if expecting I would run.
I had no intention of doing so.
“Not to him. Only he grew bored with forcing his kids to watch on the finish line. So when we reached a mature enough age, he forced us to participate. We became the hunters while he cheered from the side, but if the asshole my father hated came anywhere close to the finish line, one or all of us would be punished and I assure you, it makes the discipline you’ve received like kid’s play.” He took a deep breath, waiting to see if I’d scream or cry.
I was silent.
He needed to unburden himself and he knew I needed to hear the worst of what he’d done.
“Yes, he used a whip, my perfect dancer, as well as cattle prods and sticks, bags of oranges so no bruises would appear. But it was the mental torment of knowing he’d killed our mother that turned us into carbon copies of him. We became very good hunters, which is why when we’d finally had enough of his torture, we fought back in the only way we knew how. We forced him to be the prey. So, you see, my beautiful and very innocent girl, I am a true monster and you should stay far away from me.”
When he turned slightly, as if allowing me the chance to walk away, the understanding that whatever I did at this moment would seal my fate only weighed on my mind for a few seconds. In a move that was unexpected for both of us, I rushed to him, taking a few deep breaths as I gently brushed the tips of my fingers down his face.
“You’re not a monster, Creed. Just a man who deserved better as a boy, as you do now.”
I’d seen men soften from the touch of a woman, but nothing could adequately describe the change in him, the dark cloud fading away, a moment of pure light entering his system. And without any further hesitation, he hauled me into his arms, lifting me off my feet. His mouth ghosted over my hair and in those tender moments, I felt a surge of closeness that I’d always wanted but had never expected to find.
Maybe two broken souls could learn to heal together.
His words were soft, heartfelt, and exactly what I needed to hear.
“You’re my everything, my one true salvation.”