Beautifully Broken

BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN

Christa Simpson

The Destiny Series

Book #2

BLACK WIDOW

Publishing

BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN

By Christa Simpson

Copyright 2014 Christa Simpson

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-1-926478-02-9

Author: Christa Simpson

http://christasimpson.com

Editor: Intuition Author Services

www.intuitionauthorservices.blogspot.com

Black Widow Publishing: February 2015

http://BWPbooks.com

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to anyone other than the person who purchased it. In the case that you wish to share this e-book with others, please purchase an additional copy. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use, then please return it to the author immediately and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

To Jenica, for always being there for me when I need you.

Small age, big heart.

Table of Contents

| Title Page | Copyright | Dedication |

Prologue

1: Rumor Has It

2: Unleash the Blackness

3: On Your Knees

4: Let Me Sleep On It, Baby

5: Bus Stop Blues

6: Hopeless

7: Touch Me

8: Bad Medicine

9: Like Magic

10: Picking Names

11: Painful Promises

12: Shit Happens

13: Just One Kiss

14: Think About It

15: Don’t Cry

16: Mortified

17: Radiant

18: Cherry Kisses

19: Countdown

20: Wrong Way

21: Fireworks

22: A Fit of Passion

23: Heal Me

24: A Test

25: A Splash In Time

26: I Want More

27: Interrupted

28: Miss The Bus?

29: Broken Butterfly Wings

30: Not Today

31: Can You Fix Us?

32: Innocence

33: Call Me

| Support This Author | About the Author | Acknowledgements | Other Books By Christa Simpson |

Prologue: Wake Me From This Nightmare

My hands are freezing. It feels like my fingers might fall off if I don’t finish this job soon. It’s funny what a little bit of pussy can do to a man. Felicia has me eating out of the palm of her hand. She wants her friend’s truck fixed. I’m a mechanic. It only follows that I fix the truck, get her friend on the road and get Felicia and her wild ways back in my bed.

I am so eager to get her alone again that I agree to an onsite visit. I open the door to my truck and the three of us cram in. I shift her into four-by-four and we set off past the place where I’d met Felicia a matter of hours earlier. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Unlike the ladies, I’ve come prepared. Having lived up north my entire life, I’d learned a thing or two over the years. My tires are trimmed with chains. It isn’t considered very friendly on the local streets in town but, when driving out in the boons, it’s been really handy. Four-by-four is my best friend and has gotten me out of more than a few tight situations out here.

Once we pass the spot where I had found the ladies, I slow my truck to a crawl. I know, in this weather, if I’m not careful, I could pass by their stalled vehicle without ever knowing it.

Felicia cups a hand over her eyes to dim the shine from the snow. I don’t see it anywhere. Are you sure this is the right place?

She questions my geography?

Yes, bright eyes. This is the place. I know these roads like the back of my hand. You must be along here somewhere.

I spot the truck first. No surprise there. Ah. You see?

Felicia’s friend, Natalie, stares out the passenger window but still misses the truck. I can’t see a single thing out there.

Natalie’s truck has been snowed over. It is literally covered to the roof, disguised as a pile of snow. We’d have passed it, mistaking it for a snow drift on the roadside, if I’d left it up to the girls.

You’re lucky we don’t get any traffic out here. You’re barely off the road, I tell them, as I turn on my four-way lights and swerve to the opposite side of the road. I park directly in front of Natalie’s truck, while she babbles about her above average driving skills. Her truck is so snow covered that I can’t even tell what color it is. This is you.

I pop my hood and tug on my hat. Are you coming with me?

Felicia’s lower lip comes out in a pout. Do I have to?

I can’t help but kiss her. Then I deliver the slanted smile that I know she loves. When she flutters those long dark lashes at me that settles it.

I can handle it, I answer, wanting to be the man to take care of her. But while you’re waiting in here, you’d better think about what you’re going to give me in exchange. I raise my eyebrows, pry open my door and jump down from my truck.

As soon as I close the door, Felicia has her finger on the power window button. She opens the driver’s side window and smiles at me. Thanks, babe.

Natalie rolls her eyes. Just fix my truck, please. We’ve done enough sitting around. I’d like to get on with my vacation already.

Stop your moaning, I insist. I’ll have it up and running before you know it. I’m a bit of an expert. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m good at fixing things.

I give them a wink. I love the way my arrogance tickles them every time I throw it out there.

It’s kind of my specialty, I add.

Felicia smiles at me with those full, wide lips and starts to close her window. I agree. Those fingers are special.

The window closes up before I can hear Natalie’s disgusted rebuttal, but Felicia’s words warm me enough to get me through the first five minutes of digging. After spending another five shoveling the front end of their truck out of a snow bank, I finally try the door.

Locked.

I swipe my gloved hand over the glass to clear the snow. I can see through the window that it’s locked. With a wave at the ladies, Felicia hops out of my truck and rushes to the door with keys.

Voila! she cheers when she reaches him. She appears as relieved as me to be even just a little closer to leaving this place. She yanks on the frosty silver handle and her gloved hand slips off.

Here, let me get it, I suggest, dusting the last bit of snow from it.

She doesn’t seem to like that idea very much. I think I can handle it. She tries again, but it doesn’t work. She’s obviously a stubborn woman—determined, but stubborn.

Knowing she isn’t going to be one to give up too easily, I make a brilliant suggestion. Why don’t you put your back into it?

She glances at me through those dark lashes and it slices razor sharp across my heart. Felicia is a modern day fantasy, and she knows it. I watch her wrap her fingers around the handle once again and see the way she grips it with both hands, bending her knees this time. I can’t help but watch that magnificent ass when she’s sticking it out like that. She tries the door again with a swift pull and lands flat on that beautiful thing.

I laugh. What? It’s funny. I can see that Felicia doesn’t agree with me. But she still has the icy, metallic handle in her palm.

Oh yeah? she says, whipping the handle to the ground like she’s just scored a touchdown. She gets on her knees, gathers up an armful of snow and molds it into a huge ball. She closes her gloved hands around it and tosses it right at me. But I’m fast.

I dive out of the way and collect up a ball of my own. I toss it before Felicia can even get to her feet. She screams just as the snowball connects with her face and bursts into flakes of snow that decorate her hair and eyelashes. Oh . . . she’s mad.

I’m laughing so hard, I forget to dodge the snow flying at my head. She gets me flat on the forehead. It’s on now!

Matty, no!

I don’t listen. I run straight at her and tackle her back onto the ground into a pile of fluffy snow. I am hopeful she doesn’t get mad and it’s looking like I’ve done something right. She’s smiling and staring right into my eyes, with a beautiful laugh that lights up my life.

I lean in until our lips meet. Those lips, all soft and warm; a guy can get lost in moments like this. I deepen the kiss, wishing her friend wasn’t around to tarnish what we could be doing if we were alone. Our tongues touch and Felicia whimpers softly.

Waaaaaaaaa, wails the horn of my truck. Waaaa, waaaaaaaaa. Natalie has clearly grown impatient.

I give Felicia another soft kiss before uncovering her body and pulling her up from the snow.

Now I’m soaked. You’d better get to work before I freeze to death, she teases, not knowing the first thing about dressing for this type of weather.

I pull off my snow glove, reach for the door, and wiggle my finger inside the hole where the handle once rested. I find the sweet spot and, click, pull open the door.

Ladies first, I tease, holding the door for Felicia to hop in.

Aren’t you Mr. Perfect? She sweeps past me, hops onto the seat and slides the key into the ignition.

Go ahead. Give it a try.

She turns it forward. See? Nothing.

I smile when I hear the clicking noise. I wouldn’t say nothing. The battery is still registering. That’s something.

Still, she starts to look worried. Can you fix it?

I can fix anything, baby. I pull the black latch near her boot and hear the hood pop open. This truck has to be closing in on twenty years. It’s no wonder the beater broke down on the side of the road. Whose brilliant idea was it to drive this animal?

Don’t look at me. Natalie insisted that she drive. I even put up a fight, but I lost.

I cup Felicia’s cheek with my frozen hand. I find that hard to believe.

She kneels on the seat and hovers over my mouth, smiling before closing in on me. She’s such a tease. Every kiss leaves me wanting more. Even in this cold weather she manages to wake the sleeping beast in my pants.

I’d better get to work, I say, even though it’s the last thing I want to do right now.

She kisses me again, like she wishes I didn’t have to go, then slides back onto her bottom.

Wish me luck.

Good luck, she answers joyfully, as the door clicks shut between us.

The snow crunches beneath my snowmobile boots, as I cover my bare hand with my glove. The hood lifts without any trouble, which is a relief. I tinker around until I find what appears to be the problem. I wipe the corrosion away from the battery and replace the cap. Honestly, the truck is a mess. It could be a host of things.

I peer around the hood and catch Felicia rubbing her gloved hands together, even though she’s inside the truck. Those fashionable mitts do nothing but look pretty. Lucky for her, we should be out of here in a matter of minutes.

Give it a try, I holler.

She glances at me until the fog dissipates from my frosty words. She tries the key once, but the engine still doesn’t turn over.

I hold up a hand to stop her, while I use my other to adjust the connections. Even with my snow gear on, it’s frosty. The snow starts to rain from the heavens, covering the road with a wave of white blankets. The hood of the truck had barely been blocking the wind, when suddenly a blast of snow whips around it and slices across my face.

Felicia rolls down the driver side window and angles her head outside. Need any help under there? Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working. The wind makes her hair dance wildly around her pretty face.

I can always use your hands, doll. But not this time. I think I’ve got it. Give it another try. I catch a look at her smile before she escapes from the blistery weather and reefs on the handle to roll up the window in the old truck.

My smile grows infinitely when she revs the engine to life.

What did I say? Expert.

I hear a loud wail of the horn and imagine that Felicia is celebrating, but then I jump from the loud crackle in the air. A resounding screech echoes through my ears and deafens me, as the truck’s hood seems to turn into the mouth of a crocodile and clamps down onto me like vicious jaws. The twisted wreckage wraps around me, and sandwiches my body precariously against my own truck.

Pain sears through my side and bolts right into my foot, as I gasp for air that can’t seem to reach my lungs. Starved for oxygen, dizziness settles in, but it doesn’t even numb the pain screaming across every inch of my lower extremities.

I’m moaning now. At least I think that’s me. It hurts so bad that I can’t even tell. I don’t know if a man can handle a pain like this. I think I’m going to die. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right about now.

It feels like a waterfall of blood is spilling down my body and I’m suddenly very tired. I’m afraid to close my eyes, though. I’m fighting for a breath as it is. If I fall asleep, I’m afraid I might forget to breathe at all.

With my next breath, it’s like I’ve been knifed in my ribs. Everything burns. It’s like a fire is engulfing my body and I’m going to fall into a sink hole that will take me straight to a lifetime of hell. Nothing is working as it should. Even my vision is blurry. All I see is red. Blood. It’s everywhere. It’s even in my eyes.

If it weren’t for the steady shocks of electricity attacking my legs, I’d have believed that I didn’t have any extremities attached to me anymore. The pain. Someone make it stop!

Help! I holler. I need someone to help me, but my voice sounds so weak. Is that me? Help! I shout again, but it’s barely audible and the tightness in my middle prevents me from taking a deep breath.

I’m so scared and I’m afraid that no one will find me. I don’t want to be alone right now. I need someone to get me out of here. Help me! I cry out at the top of my lungs.

That is a mistake.

Tears pour down my face and mingle with some other liquid that has been steadily seeping from my ear. Everything is foggy. I listen for any sign that help is on its way, but the piercing ring in my ears prevents me from hearing anything over the gasps I take with every struggling breath.

This is it. My life is over. No one is here. No one can save me now.

Another screech rips through my ears. It’s a woman. All at once, everything falls back into place.

Felicia.

Oh God. Tell me she’s okay. If you must take someone, take me.

Now that my eyes are shut, it takes a great deal of energy to open them. I have been hit. I know that much. But what’s pinning me in place? I can’t move anything but an arm. Why can’t I move?

As my mind floods with my bleak reality, I scream—a full-on scream—knowing it could be the death of me. Help! Someone please help me!

I don’t know what feels worse: the stabbing pain my side, or the throb inside my chest with every wayward beat of my heart. It feels like my chest is crushed and my heart is dangling from a vine. I’m running on empty. I can’t feel my legs.

I pry my eyes open and hold them there like they’re stuck open with toothpicks. Oh, God. Please help me, I cry out softly. I slowly wake from the darkness to a beautiful angel surrounded in a storm of white searing pain. She’s pleading for me to stay with her. Lucky for her, I can’t go anywhere at the moment.

The angel struggles with the passenger window. The door is pretty mangled and she can’t get it open very far. Why is she still in the truck? She’s determined to escape now. I think to do the same. I try to move my legs again, but I can’t—at least I don’t think I can.

Noooo, I moan, when pain shoots up my spine and settles in my chest. I try to move my upper body, but I feel a lot of pressure in my gut. It feels like someone has thrown an entire set of knives at me, like I’m a dart board, and now that the knives are removed, my intestines ooze from the holes.

Don’t move, Matty. I’m coming, the angel cries.

My eyes lift just enough to reach the white creature. She’s so magnificent. I’d do anything for the girl, if she’d just take my pain away.

Please, I beg. Help me.

Matty—I swear to God—if you leave me, I will kill you myself, she shouts through the broken window. The angel sounds so angry. Why is she so mad at me?

My eyes blink open again. My life is so hazy, but I have a glimmer of an angel lying in the snow, with her luscious brown hair tangling above her.

Wait a minute. That’s no angel. Felicia?

Oh, God. Thank you, she cries, as she squeezes out through the passenger window.

She has a horrible limp, but she seems to ignore it as she drags her injured leg behind her. I watch her climb awkwardly onto the mangled hood and I see how it tears at her jacket. She lies right on top of the shattered windshield and reaches out to me. It takes every ounce of energy I have just to hold her hand.

Hang on, Matty. Please . . . you have to stay with me.

I gasp for another breath. What are you talking about? It takes so much energy just to talk. I’m not going anywhere.

She smiles through tears, but her eyes can’t hide the fear. She swallows. They got you pretty good. I’m not going to be able to get you out of this mess alone.

When I cough, it feels like I just ejected my appendix. I try to look down, but a stinging sensation clings to my spine and clamps my chin in place.

Felicia, if I die, know that if I had more time in life I would have wanted to spend it with you.

My life seems to flash before my eyes, as she chokes on her tears.

Shut up! she cries out. No one’s going to die.

I can see that she’s squeezing onto my hand with a death grip, but I lost all sensation in my hands minutes ago.

The cold grips me and seizes my insides. My eyes slide shut and it takes too much effort to reopen them. Help me, I whisper. Even my voice is tired. It’s like it has run out of time. I’m dying.

You’re not going to die, she stammers. You hear me, Matty? Not today, you’re not. You’re going to hang on for me, okay? You’re going to hang on and live for me. You have to.

Her voice cuts off. She’s sobbing now. I can tell she’s trying to be strong for me, but nothing can wake me from this nightmare. I’m going to die. I can feel it in my badly broken bones.

Matty, she screams. You have to wake up.

I can’t do that. Too sleepy. I can hear the sirens, but they aren’t going to make it in time. I can feel my life draining from my broken body. This life that I lead is officially over.

Chapter 1: Rumor Has It

Wake up! Felicia cries. You have to wake up! Matty, please!

Felicia forces herself to a sitting position. She’s covered in a layer of sweat, soaking her bed sheets. It feels like she’s just stepped out of the bath. She wipes a hand over her forehead and cries into her hand. The memory is just as strong