Page 1 of Hell of a Mess

Her

I’d never thought about the sound of bones when they broke or if it was even something one could hear.

However, the crunch of mine as they shattered echoed in my ears while I struggled to breathe.

I pled as I held my wrist, which had been bent back abnormally, when the backhanded slap across my face, followed by a hard shove, sent me falling to the pavement below.

There was a throbbing in my skull where I couldn’t catch myself due to my injured wrist and my head had hit something.

The impact was making it hard to think, or maybe it was the pain.

The cracking noise, however, hadn’t been from the fall, but from when the expensive Italian loafer made contact with my ribs. Drawing in oxygen became as painful as my wrist, if not more so. My head was the least of my worries.

“Arun,” a voice I thought I knew but was struggling to place called out. “That’s enough.” There was amusement in the man’s tone. As if this was entertaining. “She has learned her place. Come back inside.”

Yes, please go back inside.

I watched his feet, not daring to look up at his face and meet his eyes. I hadn’t wanted to come here. My father had made me. He’d said Arun and I needed to be seen together. The engagement had been announced.

Pain seared through me, and I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure I could survive much more. Something was wrong in my chest.

“You say anything,” Arun Al-Bahrani spat angrily, and I knew he was talking to me. “I will kill you. Go back to Texas. When I want you I will call for you.”

I nodded, keeping my head down. Terror crawled up my back as my future played out in front of me.

Perhaps death would be better. A hot tear streaked down my cheek.

Where the beating hadn’t brought me to tears, the thought of my life and the lack of those in it who would even care if I were dead did.

The last time I’d known what it felt like to be loved, I’d been six years old.

“The blonde you were fond of has been taken back to a private room,” the voice I realized was Saeed, Arun’s very close friend, said.

“Send someone to deal with this one,” Arun ordered. “But first, leave her here to remember what it feels like when she shows me disrespect. It will be a lesson that serves her well.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’d come here on a flight my father had put me on and when I landed Arun hadn’t been at the airport to get me.

I had called my father who had told me to find him then hung up.

Arun’s father was behind my being here. My father would rather I never leave the house.

But for both our fathers, appearance was everything.

It had taken me hours to find Arun and he’d ignored all my calls and text until his father had contacted him.

That had been the beginning of Arun’s wrath.

The sound of footsteps as he began to walk away sent relief through me.

I didn’t want to die. There might not be anyone who would mourn my exit from this earth, but I still clung to the hope that, one day, I’d know happiness.

The fairy tale my mother had once told me when she tucked me into bed at night, where a prince would come along and love me, remained a dream I clung to just as I held the memories of her close.

Short, labored breaths were all I could manage.

With my good arm, I slowly tried to sit up, but the agony that came with it stopped any real movement.

I couldn’t stay out here like this, and I couldn’t go back to the house that had been more prison than home for the past twenty-two years.

If I was going to survive, I had to find the strength to get up, walk, and keep walking until I was so far away that no one could find me.

I had a jump-start on getting lost. I was in Mississippi. Not Texas, where I could be recognized.

Staying here meant Saeed would come back like Arun had ordered him, and I’d be taken wherever it was he wanted me to be.

My father wouldn’t question Arun. I was part of a business deal for my father and nothing more.

I’d been raised to be the perfect wife, pure, obedient.

The merger my father had been orchestrating the majority of my life.

Texas oil wasn’t enough for him. He’d bought all the oil land in Texas that he could and wanted the wealth that would come from a connection to the oil in Abu Dhabi.

Arun was his key to that power, and he’d sell his own soul for it. His daughter was an easy price to pay.

The heavy sound of more footsteps snapped me to attention, and I sucked in a breath, wincing as I did so.

Those weren’t expensive Italian loafers.

The way they hit the ground wasn’t light and polished.

There was an aggressiveness to it instead.

One that had me moving back in search of a shadow to hide in.

I should have gotten up and run when I had the chance.

If breathing wasn’t so hard, I would have.

Please, God, if you’re there, don’t let that be someone Arun sent for me, I prayed silently.

A deep chuckle felt like a warm breath brushing over my skin, although it wasn’t anywhere near me. Not yet. But the sound was appealing, which made me a fool because it was masculine and I’d known nothing but pain from men. Starting with my father.

“Better be a damn good reason,” a voice drawled, causing me to shiver. “I need a goddamn break.”

“Oz said it’s a debt collection,” another male voice said.

“Why the fuck am I needed for that?”

“Hell if I know. Linc sent the order.”

“Fucker just wants to piss me off. I bet your dad wasn’t called,” the deeper voice said.

“Actually, he was.”

They were getting closer. Scanning the parking lot from where I’d been left behind a dumpster, I tried to scoot back closer to the wall so I’d be completely out of sight.

Closing my eyes, I took the deepest breath I could manage and held it before using my good hand to push my body. The stabbing pain that shot up my chest seized my lungs and a cry I was unable to stop broke free.

The footsteps stopped, and I froze. Had they heard me? Oh God. No. What would I do if they had? The men who frequented places like this were wealthy and powerful enough to be dangerous. Finding a beaten female lurking outside would anger them. It would disrupt their privacy.

I waited, listening for the men to start walking again.

But they’d gone eerily silent. Maybe they’d walked the other way.

A tear dropped onto my hand, and I stared down at it.

My wrist was no longer recognizable. Although I hadn’t heard it break like I had my ribs, there was no doubt it was just as damaged.

The toe of a black combat boot appeared in front of me as if it had come out of thin air.

Not a single sound betraying its arrival.

If I could move, I’d put all those years of running around the perimeter of my father’s property to good use.

But since I was battling for every ounce of oxygen I took in, that wasn’t going to happen. I was stuck.

“What the fuck?” the deep voice swore.

“Jesus,” the other man said in a harsh whisper. “Do you recognize her? Is she one of the dancers?”

The man closest to me bent down, and although I knew I should keep my gaze averted, it lifted to see who had found me. I wasn’t one to be affected by looks. I’d seen the ugly behind too many handsome faces. But this one…it wasn’t like any other I’d seen.

“No,” he said as he stared at me. “She’s not.”

His eyes drifted down my face to survey the rest of me, and when he saw my wrist that I was holding close to my chest, his nostrils flared. “Get the truck.” His words sounded like an order.

“Why?”

He leaned closer to me. “Anything else broken?” he asked, and I realized he was speaking to me.

I should say nothing. Remain mute, and maybe he would leave. But I nodded. “Yes,” I replied in a strangled whisper.

His jaw clenched. “Where?”

Tell him you’re fine. Send him on his way. Arun will kill them. Or have them killed.

“Ribs, I think,” I admitted.

“Who did this?” The ferocity in his tone made me jerk.

I shook my head and tried to move back on instinct, but all it did was make me whimper in my attempt.

“Fuck,” he muttered, then started to stand back up.

He was leaving. That was for the best. Even if I wanted to ask him not to. I didn’t know the man. He wasn’t someone I could trust. I was better alone. If he left, then they were safe.

“I’m taking her home,” he said.

Panic returned, laced with a fight I thought had gone out of me. I wasn’t going back to my father’s house. Not like this.

“No,” I gasped.

I couldn’t go home. My father would blame me. I’d be punished further.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at me. “You want to stay here?”

I nodded. “Can’t”—I struggled to speak—“go…home.”

He didn’t realize I’d flown here. My home was in Texas. He’d be taking me to an airport.

The understanding in his eyes as I gasped the last word gave me a small smidgen of relief.

“My home,” he said. “You need a doctor, and I can get that for you.”

A doctor? At his home?

My eyes drifted down over his jeans, pearl-snap shirt, and leather jacket.

He didn’t dress like a man who could get a doctor to his home.

Lifting my gaze back up—taking in the short beard that didn’t mask his chiseled jaw, messy dark blonde hair that was pulled back in some knot or bun, and the tattoo that was peeking out from the neckline of his shirt—I realized he didn’t look anything like the men I knew that came to this place.

The price tag on the membership alone was steep.

“You’re taking her there without talking to Linc?” the other guy asked him.

A smirk touched his lips, causing his eyes to lighten slightly from the dark, intense gleam they’d had since he’d knelt down in front of me. “Since when do I ask Linc shit? Go get the truck, bring it closer. She’s in pain, and the less I have to move her, the better.”

My gaze swung toward the road that I’d planned to eventually escape to. Was that even something I’d be able to do? I couldn’t move my body an inch without crying out. But leaving with a stranger who looked like some sexy biker who wasn’t on the right side of the law didn’t sound smart.

He lowered himself until his eyes were level with mine again.

“All right, sugar, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he said as he pulled a flask from the inside pocket of his jacket and opened it. “You’re going to take several long swigs of this, and then I’m going to pick you up. It’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch, but it’s the only way to get you some help.”

I shivered, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the man speaking.

“I…I don’t kn-know y-you,” I stammered.

The corner of his lips quirked, but like before, he didn’t smile. Not really.

“Maybe not but I don’t see you got any other choice,” he said, holding the flask out to me.

I stared at it. He could be drugging me.

“I’m not gonna lie and promise you I’m a good man,” he said. “But I’m not the kinda fucked-up monster that hurts a woman.”

Right now, that was the better of my two options. Reaching out, I took the flask, placed it to my lips, and drank it down. The burn was foreign to me, and I coughed as I held it out for him to take it.

“Good girl. Just one more,” he urged.

Blinking, I stared at him. He’d praised me.

That was as foreign as the burn from what I assumed was the whiskey I’d just drunk.

I’d spent years trying to earn my father’s approval but failed.

Even when I did everything he had ever asked of me.

Yet this man was praising me for simply taking a drink from his flask.

Like a child eager to please, I took it and downed more of the horrid liquid.