Cut Too Deep, page 15
Miller stepped through the door, staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was more beautiful than in his memories and the photo from the ballet. His hands slid along her jaw as his thumbs brushed away her tears, sweeping over the faint scar on her cheek. He knew how she got it and would give anything to have stopped that night from happening. A sob ripped from her chest, the emotion and the intensity more than she was capable of holding back.
He’s here. He didn’t abandon me.
Hadley finally managed to speak.
“What are you doing here?”
Still cradling her face in his big hands, Miller said, “I’m here to prove that we share more than meaningless unspoken words,” he paused and brushed his lips across hers, marveling in how soft they were, before joining their foreheads, “because I need those words to fucking mean something, and I need them to come from your mouth.”
As another sob tore through her, Hadley grabbed onto his wrists. Miller squeezed her face tighter. His brown eyes pierced her soul.
“Of course, they mean something,” Hadley choked out.
They mean everything.
His hands fell from her face. Miller cupped her shoulders before curling his pinky fingers under the straps of her silk nightgown and pulling them off her shoulders. He held the straps against her arms.
“Show me,” Miller whispered before pressing his lips to her forehead.
With her chin down, Hadley averted her eyes and sucked in a reassuring breath. She was utterly terrified of intimacy, of getting this close to someone, of allowing herself to be vulnerable, of being touched, but she wanted him to touch her.
Her heart had been secure when distance separated them. Hadley wanted to show him how much her words meant. Her ugly past behind her, she should allow herself to love whole-heartedly, but she wasn’t sure she could. That awful voice told her she didn’t deserve him. He didn’t know her, and if he did, he would leave and take her heart with him.
Miller sighed softly and replaced the straps atop of her shoulders. He lifted her chin. Warm tears still streamed down her cheeks. Her words when she opened up to him, the poems, and her internal beauty crashed into him all at once. Her presence sent tingles up his spine. He didn’t remember the exact moment it happened, but he’d fallen hard. Now he feared without distance between them, Hadley would seal herself off, ending any chance for him to show her how he felt.
His eyes bored into hers. “You deserve to be loved.”
“You love me?” she whispered.
Miller trailed a single finger down her bare arm. He wanted to say it, but his failed marriage had affected him. He referred to Hadley endearingly as Love, and thought of her as his love, but admitting it out loud, saying the words, were too difficult.
“I’m starting to.”
“But, you don’t know me. I have a ton of baggage.” Miller shook his head. “Seriously, I’m all kinds of screwed up. I don’t deserve you or your love.”
“Stop!” Miller commanded loudly. “You’re fragile, but you’re not screwed up. I know everything about you. I’ve never felt this way with anyone else.”
I don’t know what he wants me to say.
Hadley couldn’t admit how much she loved him. It hurt. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his chest as she clung tightly to him.
His arms wrapped around her waist, and Miller lifted her up on the tips of her toes.
“Let me love you, Hadley.”
Hadley nodded against his chest. He swept her into his arms, holding her in his strong embrace as he walked toward her bedroom.
“Is this your room?”
Hadley nodded and nuzzled into his neck, smelling him–a marvelous scent of cologne and pure testosterone–familiar.
Miller stopped at the foot of her bed and set her down on her feet.
Unwelcomed doubt brewed in her mind. Her heart was on board, but her brain boycotted their union, trying to protect them both. She feared shaming him and ruining his reputation in the community. More, though, her heart would only survive if he left now.
His hands curled around her arms as he pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing softly.
Her entire body started to tremble and she began to cry, a deep, violent, ugly cry—an uncontrollable cry. Hadley cried at the memory of every guy she ever let callously fuck her, and her former guardian’s violent ways. The memories of what Hadley allowed men to do to her flooded her mind—each of the men in her past void of any genuine closeness, trust, or affection.
She hated those men. Miller had been in her apartment ten minutes and Hadley already felt a deeply rooted connection, pulling her in with a force she knew couldn’t be sustained by someone with her emotional instability.
Miller drew her to his chest. As she pulled away and started to explain, the words caught in every sob. She was a complete wreck, her face drenched in tears and snot. Their intimate moment lost before it began. Miller left the room without a word. Hadley sunk onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. She tried frantically to get a grip on her emotions. Having Miller in her apartment was much harder than she’d anticipated. It was realization she hadn’t come nearly as far in her life as she thought. Moments later, his dark shadow filled the doorway, and then he was on his knees before her.
Hadley looked into his dark eyes and saw pure unwavering trust. It was the first time she’d felt it in another person. His expression was amorous. He obviously cared for her. Miller pressed a warm, damp cloth to her cheek, wiping away tears. The fabric felt rough, but his touch was gentle. The delicate way he treated her made her realize she’d already sank deeply and hopelessly in love with him. She was helpless to muddle or refuse it. He swept the cloth over her forehead and down the other cheek. Hadley stopped shaking. Her tears subsided and her breathing came naturally. Miller’s small smile, full of worry and compassion, worried her. He waited.
“I’m sorry,” Hadley finally whispered.
Miller set the cloth aside and cupped her cheek.
“Don’t apologize. There’s no need. When I said, ‘let me love you,’ I meant it in any way you need me to—to make love to you, to hold you, to wipe your tears–all of it. I’ve never wanted that before you.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I’m scared too, but I want this to work enough to take the risk.”
It seemed unfathomable for the always in control, and usually calculating, Miller Genetti to be scared.
It didn’t matter. Hadley was too fucked up for their relationship to be anything more than a train wreck that ended in a twisted ball of heartache and pain. Despite what people said, some scars didn’t heal with time, rather they remained open and festering until infection took over and slowly killed you.
“It will never work. My past has damaged me beyond repair. I thought I could… I can’t. I don’t deserve you. Do you remember when you wrote that you wanted a woman who could illuminate the darkest parts of you?” Miller nodded. “That’s not me. How can I offer you light when I’ve spent my entire life in the dark?”
“That is precisely why you shine, Love. One would never see the stars without the night sky. Without dark looming behind dusk, one can’t appreciate the sunset. Even in death, one tunnels through the dark until they see the light.” Miller reached up and gripped her arms tightly. “You’re my stars, my sunset, and my light at the end of the tunnel. Please, let me love you.”
“I don’t deserve it. I’ve done horrible things, and you’re in the public spotlight. What will people think of you then?”
“Stop saying that. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, but I selfishly want you anyway. I’m not concerned with the public’s opinion. I don’t give a shit what people think of me. As for your past, I know what happened. You killed your father. You were eight-years-old, Love, and it was self-defense. You need to forgive yourself.”
How does he know that? I’ve never told him.
The records were sealed and Hadley changed her last name. The news clippings and other media were still around. If one were to dig into it, they could find them, which of course Miller must have done. Hadley couldn’t be mad at him. She knew a man in his position had many moochers. He had to be careful. She understood. As for forgiveness, she’d tried for eighteen years.
It may never come.
“I murdered him…I…oh, God…my mother…I…Miller.” She choked. “But that’s only a small piece of my past. It’s not the worst part. There’s so much more.”
“Hush—shhh—don’t talk.” His hands held her face firmly as he looked directly into her eyes. “We can talk later. For now, I want to hold you. Would that be okay?”
Hadley nodded in his hands.
Miller stood from the floor and scooped her up into his arms. He walked to the side of the bed and set her down in the center. She curled up on her side, watching him as he removed his shirt and belt. The soft cotton undershirt he wore fit snuggly, showing off his nicely sculpted chest and biceps. His slacks hung loose on his hips. Miller was tall, broad shouldered, and beautiful, and he was hers, if only she could bring herself to accept him.
Miller pulled something from his pocket and placed it in her hand, folding her fingers over the object before she could see it. Hadley looked to him with wide curious eyes.
“This is my heart, and it’s yours,” Miller said, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to suppress his emotions.
Hadley opened her hand to a new addition for her charm bracelet. A sterling silver heart, encrusted with bright red gem-stones.
She blinked back tears.
“Thank you.”
Miller kissed her hand and fastened the charm to her bracelet before sliding in next to her. Hadley welcomed him with a soft smile. He brought her close, wrapping his long arms around her tiny frame. The comfort of his touch surprised her. She felt no anxiety in his warm embrace. Her arm rested on his stomach as his fingers glided softly up and down her skin. When his hand reached her wrist, his thumb lightly stroked the pencil thin scars. His breath hissed between his teeth. She refused to look up at him. He knew. Now he’d realize how wrong she was for him.
Miller brought her wrist to his lips and gently kissed the scars of her past. Her eyes burned as they filled with more damn tears she didn’t want to spill. The sob Hadley attempted to choke back heaved deep in her chest, suffocating her.
“Why?” Miller asked, his voice strained.
Hadley simply couldn’t explain to the man she loved how there had been a time in her life when she wanted nothing more than to die. How the smallest of things required more effort than she was capable of expending. How she had no compulsion to get out of bed every day and dredge through a life that society had deemed safe and appropriate. When in reality, it had been perverse, dangerous, and inexplicably inappropriate. It had been torture. She tried to take the easy way out, because attempting to keep her head above water and breathe had become impossible when she was continually being dragged under. She shook her head frantically against his chest, sobbing so violently her head began to throb.
His hand stroked the side of her head as he held her tighter.
“Shhh…Hadley. Please, don’t cry.”
Miller held her close for the nearly half an hour it took for her tears to end.
“Hadley?”
“I’m fine”
“Do you still want to?”
She honestly didn’t. Hadley hadn’t thought about it since the morning she met Mac.
“I have to know. Do you still want to harm yourself?”
“No.”
Her reply came out weak, but she did mean it.
“Are you speaking to someone about it?”
She didn’t want to answer, but he could find out if he wanted to. Miller had been nothing but gentle and kind to her. As much as it pained Hadley to admit something so personal, she couldn’t lie to him.
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I need to know.”
“Dr. LeClair.”
“Ah… Good. Dr. LeClair is more than qualified.”
“And if he wasn’t?”
“Then I’d have you seeing someone else tomorrow.”
“And if I didn’t want to?”
“Don’t be coy with me. Some things are not negotiable. You’re mental health being one of them.”
“Oh.” Hadley also felt things that were not-negotiable, like sharing him with other women. “Why did you go to Thailand?”
His chest collapsed with a heavy sigh. Her intention wasn’t to provide Miller with a test, but her question was asked in faith. He asked Hadley to trust him, but was he ready to be honest with her about his past when he’d finally stopped her from running? Lying would mean losing her.
“Can we talk about this later?”
He opted for a copout rather than a lie.
“No! You asked me to trust you until you gave me a reason not to. Withholding things from me is a very good reason not to. I know you went there looking for a woman. Who is she?”
Miller let out a curse, knowing his cousin had spoken with her when he explicitly asked him not to. He squeezed her tight.
“My wife.”
Hadley sat up swiftly, releasing their embrace. The room closed in around her.
“What? You’re married?”
Miller tried to pull her back into his arms, but she resisted.
“Let me explain.” Her icy gaze shot back a warning. “We’ve been separated for over five years. I’ve been trying to divorce her for a while, but it’s complicated.”
Hadley relaxed. When Miller reached for her, she settled back into his side.
“Paul and I have been friends since grade school. After college, I introduced him to my cousin, Katherine. A year later they married. Paul has a half-sister named Theresa. She lived with her mother. I’d seen pictures of her, but we’d never met. At Paul’s wedding, he introduced us. We were inseparable after that.”
Hadley squirmed, not sure she wanted to hear anymore, but Miller kissed her head, calming her.
“She was wild and carefree. Genetti Industries was a huge success. I was on top of the world and had the woman I loved by my side. We took a trip to Atlantic City. After a night of drinking, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. Other than family, we told no one we were married. She didn’t want to be scrutinized as Mrs. Genetti. It was difficult enough being my girlfriend. It was our intimate little secret.”
He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth, the next half of the story infinitely harder to share.
“We were young and far too irresponsible to deal with a wealthy lifestyle. We partied and drank too much. That led to smoking pot. I was content to smoke a joint now and again to take the edge off. Theresa craved the next big high and soon pot wasn’t enough. She turned to cocaine, but it didn’t provide the thrill she sought, and she moved on to heroine.”
He stopped and Hadley felt his chest heave. Miller bit into his fists. Hadley looked up and into the eyes of a man consumed by regret.
“Miller.”
“Give me a minute.” He scrubbed his face with his hand a few times. His emotions now under control, Miller continued. “Each evening when I looked into her eyes, she was no longer the woman I fell in love with. She was a desperate addict, willing to do anything, hurt anyone for a fix. She stole from me. She cheated on me. She borrowed money from Paul and the rest of her family when I tried to cut her off, until they ultimately wanted nothing more to do with her. As you can imagine, I blamed myself.”
“It wasn’t you fault.”
“It damn sure was. I started her on a destructive path, and I was having too much fun to see how much she changed until it was too late.”
“You were young. You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have, but despite everything, I was determined to fix it. I confronted her and begged her to go to rehab. She refused. I told her I wouldn’t give her another dime if she didn’t go. She was furious and told me she didn’t need my money. When she left me, her desperation for a fix grew, and she ended up near Coney Island, exchanging sexual favors for drugs. A week after she left me, I received a call from the hospital. She dearly died from an overdose. I told her how much I loved her and wanted to be with her. She entered rehab. I took her back, but she was never the same.” Miller exhaled slowly. “I ruined her.”
Hadley glanced up to a faraway look in his eyes.
“You saved her.”
“Hardly,” Miller huffed. “For a while, she seemed okay, but there was always a fire in her that couldn’t be controlled. She needed a fix. Drugs were out of the question if she wanted to stay with me. Her next addiction was sex. I wanted to please her. I tried to feed her desire. We had sex constantly. But, soon it was no longer about how often, but how many different ways. She wanted to be tied up and treated roughly, abused. I tried, but as her lover, I struggled with putting tenderness aside and making demands. I didn’t want to hurt her.” His voice broke and Miller paused, refusing to cry. “I wanted to love her gently, as a woman deserves, but she demanded violence—innocent spankings turned to brutal whippings, she was punishing herself, and I refused to be the one to execute the punishments. Her compromise was to bring a Dom into our bedroom, for me to watch. She told me it was so I could learn what she wanted. I refused to share her, and she left me. Over the next couple of years, I dated often and tried to forget her. She frequented BDSM clubs, sank back into drug use, and prostituted herself. Anytime trouble found her, I was there to bail her out.”
“You were trying to do right by her.”
He huffed again though an indignant smile. “I was trying to ease my conscience.”
“You still helped her.”
