Chapter One

Chapter One

I gaze at the ceiling where the fan spins out of control, and my eyes flicker, unable to focus. The moans intensify, I hear them, loud, almost piercing. A slight stir awakens me. I stiffen, not wanting to fall back into the morbid place my mind is calling home.

But I am weak.

The feeling starts to build, and I hear her call my name like a purr from a wild animal, a carnivore circling its prey. I feel her stroking me, the sensations feel wrong, but they’re all I have now. The control, I’m losing it.

Just one more time.

I see her face.

And I explode.

It rips through me, powerful and destructive all in one fleeting moment, forcing me to grip the headboard, my knuckles turning white, and every muscle in my body tensing from the ferocity.

I’m done.

Satisfied, she pulls away, running her tongue from the edge of her mouth along her stained lips. Her chestnut hair falls over her shoulders, and she quickly sweeps it away, exposing her naked torso. I stare because it’s nice, but it’s not beautiful, and it’s not her.

I can see in her eyes that she wants more of me, a part of me I don’t want to give, simply can’t give. She wants my soul. She wants to own me.

“What’s wrong, buttercup?” she hums as she leans over to the nightstand and pulls a cigarette out of her purse.

I hate smokers. It’s a nasty habit and a serious turn-off, but one she argued as a non-negotiable if I want to fuck her.

“Don’t light that in here.”

“C’mon, give a girl a break. I blow ya dick that hard, I deserve a fucking medal,” she gloats.

As she attempts to light the cigarette, I pull it out of her hands and throw it in the trash can beside my bedside table. Angrily, she huffs and folds her arms. Her tits are pushed up, the silicone looking about ready to explode from the force.

“I’m really over this, Julian. What the fuck do you want, huh? One minute you’re ignoring my calls, and the next, you’re begging me to fly here so you can screw my brains out.”

The answer is simple—I want Charlie.

And Roxy isn’t her, no matter how much I try to change her. Her hair may look the same, but it lacks the shine, the floral smell, the way it softly falls, allowing you to run your hands through it.

“I’m hopping in the shower. Please be gone when I’m done.”

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” she shrieks, grabbing my arm and pulling me back to her. “First, you make me dye my hair, then you send me to Lex’s place to fuck him, again. It’s not my fault that backfired in your face! Does she fucking wear the same perfume and clothes you buy for me? I’m not a fucking fool, Julian. I look exactly like her. I’m just waiting for the moment when you scream her name during sex and not mine.”

It almost happened, or should I say I’ve had to bite my tongue every time.

“Roxy. Leave. Now.”

“Gladly. Don’t go fucking calling me again to fulfill your sick and twisted fantasies.”

Roxy grabs her clothes and quickly puts them on. Fully dressed, she heads for the door but stops to face me. “I’d watch my back if I were you. If Lex Edwards gets wind of this, you’re dead fucking meat. I wouldn’t mess with him anymore… or his wife.” Roxy slams the door behind her, leaving me to bask in my own pity.

She’s right. I have been lucky not to be caught out by him.

I was playing with fire, knives in hand, standing at the edge of the tallest building, and with one gust of wind, dead. If Lex knew what I’ve done, what I do, you might as well pay your respects now.

But I’m not that stupid.

And I’m always one step ahead of him.

Bowing my head, I sit at the edge of the bed, trying once again to figure out where I went wrong and how the fuck I let myself get to where I am now.

Charlie is the one, the only woman who makes me forget Chelsea ever existed. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her that day at the gym. Sure, there were similarities, uncanny similarities, but only physical ones.

She’s perfect in every way, unbelievably beautiful and sexy, not to mention intelligent, witty, and knows exactly what she wants in life. And she is the most amazing fuckI’ve ever experienced.

I know women like her don’t just fall into your lap. Most of the time, they get loose nuts in their head or are bitten by the marriage and baby bug. I’ve had my share of clingers, but Charlie is nothing like those women.

Everyone warned me she was too good to be true, so I proposed to her after a few short months. Why the fuck not? She satisfied every desire of mine and gave me hope of a future without the nightmares which continue to plague me since Chelsea’s death.

When she said ‘yes,’ I couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Turns out, marriage and starting a family isn’t so bad if you’ve got the perfect woman by your side.

I wanted her—all of her—the entire package. She’d be my happily ever after, and most importantly, Chelsea’s ghost no longer haunted me.

But with anything good comes the bad, and I still remember the moment she withdrew—if only I knew why.

“Gorgeous, you’re tense. Bad day at work?”

Charlie’s shoulders stiffened. She normally enjoyed when I massaged her. In fact, it always led to me taking her from behind, pulling on her hair and whispering profanities in her ear just the way she liked it.

“Yeah, something like that,” she mumbled.

She turned around to face me, her eyes looked pained. Something was weighing heavily on her mind, but it wasn’t my style to push someone if they didn’t want to talk.

I moved my hand toward the back of her neck, and with a slight force, I pulled her into me. There was resistance at first until her tongue circled mine, and she moaned slightly. It was my cue to take what was mine, but she pulled away, out of breath, apologizing that she needed to clear her head. She stood up from the couch and searched for her purse, stopping only for a moment to lean down and kiss me goodbye.

I clutched her arm. “Are we okay?” I asked, not that I had anything to worry about, she was my fiancée, after all. Charlie accepted my ring and wore it proudly on her finger. She’d soon become Mrs. Baker.

“Julian, we’re more than okay. In fact, we’re perfect.”

We were perfect.

Until the day he walked back into Charlie’s life.

Deep down, I knew there was more to Charlie than she had let on. Yeah, okay, we all have a past. I wasn’t one to pry, and I didn’t want her prying into my life, either. She didn’t need to know about Chelsea, nor the fact that the only girl I ever loved, the girl I gave my everything to, was burned to a crisp right before my eyes. She especially didn’t need to know that nightmares haunted me every night and only stopped the night she first slept beside me.

I was a fucking idiot to think she loved me enough that any ex who would stroll back into her life would be insignificant, but, of course, luck was never on my side.

It had to be Lex Edwards.

I knew who the fuck he was. I wrote an article about him which took me months to prepare with extensive research. I had studied his entire life. I could even tell you his damn shoe size. He was a force to be reckoned with. His intelligence drove him to become a mogul, and like all the other billionaires, he led the saddest existence. Random floozies photographed with him at all times. His dick had been in every blonde in sight.

But even throughout all that, I had no idea Charlie and Lex had a past, and him coming back into her life would effectively end our relationship.

I tried to trust her, but when I felt myself weaken, I ran. Just like the night of the charity ball, I was weak, and so I did what I had always done when I was scared I visited my dealer. Alone, in the dark, I’d do a line as I talked to Chelsea. I told her my fears, told her I missed her, that I loved her. I prayed for a miracle that she wasn’t really gone, that I was living a fucking nightmare, and I’d wake up at any moment.

Those prayers were never answered, and the nightmares were only beginning.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew Charlie was betraying me. And in some sick and twisted way, I thought, let her do this, let him hurt her, and then she’ll see him for what he really is. Lex Edwards isn’t the man she left behind in high school, his narcissist trait will eventually be found out, and he’ll break her in ways to the point beyond forgiveness.

When she said she was going to The Hamptons, I wanted to hurt her—a side of myself to this day haunts me. My dealer just got in a fresh shipment, and the timing was perfect because I had no other way of escaping. I was on the verge of doing things, dark things I allowed my imagination to conjure up, but it was almost like someone was looking out for me, holding me back from destroying everything.

I cleaned myself up enough to drive to The Hamptons, ready to fight for what was mine until I received a call from my mother dragging me back to South Carolina because Chelsea’s parents took their own lives. Tortured by the death of their only child, they had driven to the same spot where Chelsea died and drove their car into the lake, drowning instantly. It was twelve years later—what would’ve been Chelsea’s thirtieth birthday.

It rocked the community, and the nightmares started again.

I was spiraling out of control.

The days became nights, and the nights became days.

I knew I shouldn’t have let Charlie go when she handed me back the ring, but I was so high on coke, I had no idea what the fuck was happening anymore.

I miss Chelsea. The pain is fucking unbearable.

The nightmares plague me, the flames visible, and my lungs hurt from screaming her name.

Life became a big blur. I lost my job in New York, and my landlord evicted me. My mother begged me to stay with her. I had officially hit rock bottom, a fatality waiting to happen.

I needed to escape my drug dealer—as long as he supplied it, I’d take it.

Moving across the country was the best decision I could’ve made for myself—fun in the sun, back to enjoying surfing and other outdoor sports that I used to love. California was the answer.

The universe had other ideas, or perhaps it was fate. Charlie? Living in LA? You could imagine my shock. The signs were there—we were meant to be. I just needed to make sure I didn’t fuck up this time.

So here I am today, exactly eight months after the gala when I last touched her. My gorgeous Charlie. She was glowing in her strapless black gown, and every part of me broke down the second we touched. Her smile was enough to erase all my bad history, enough to make me believe we were meant to be together.

Enough for me to tell her I still loved her.

She told me she loved her husband, not that I believed it for a second. There were too many pauses, and I knew Charlie better than anyone else—her marriage was falling apart. Rumors had begun spreading of Lex Edwards screwing his young assistant, Montana Black. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything to a fellow colleague who happened to work in our ‘gossip’ department. But nevertheless, Charlie’s life was falling apart, and she needed saving.

The problem was, I allowed my insecurities to weaken my position with us, begging her to leave him for me. Every part of me prayed for a miracle, but it never came. Instead, she walked back into his arms, and I walked into another dealer’s stash after three months of being clean.

I stand up from the bed and walk over to my closet. Behind my sports jackets is a slight cavity in the wall. I reach in and pull it out—the photograph of Charlie I took when we were together, naked, spread out on my bed. The lust in her eyes, the way she begged me to fuck her, I feel myself harden instantly. And with that, I reach into the cavity again and pull out the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t, the one thing I battled with myself not to do anymore, I pull out her panties, the ones I stole from her house a few months ago.

I struggle with my morals. I know it’s wrong, but the obsession takes hold of me, and so I pull it toward my nose and inhale the scent.

The scent belonging to Charlie.

Like a shot of morphine, it spreads through me, igniting my senses, my greed, and my lust—all of the things I promised myself I wouldn’t allow myself to feel. Tonight, I’ll sneak into her place again, just to watch her one more time.

He’s in London.

I’ll be safe.

I can protect her.

Just one more night, then I promise to stop.

One more night.

But I’m wrong.