Surviving Broken Page 9

  “Please don’t talk like that, John. He’s not worth the trouble.”

  John kissed her forehead. “Whatever you need, JC, just ask. Love you.” He growled several curse words as he shut the door.

  ****

  JC took time over the next several months to heal. Her lip mended and bruises faded, but the nightmares replayed almost nightly, leaving her sore and fatigued. Her Mom and Tom were exhausted too. Every night JC woke up kicking and screaming, and within minutes, one of them would be by her side. She appreciated their love and support, but apologized saying, “You must feel like you just had a newborn baby. I keep waking you up at night.”

  Tracy and Vincent visited several times over the next few months. Her Mom and Tom suggested that JC see a therapist, but she assured, “I am. She’ll be here this weekend.”

  When Tracy came to visit, JC drug her by the hand into her room, slapped a hundred dollar bill on the dresser and lay down on her bed. “Apparently I need to start paying you to get better results. If I don’t start sleeping at night, Mom and Tom think they’re going to take me to a shrink.”

  Tracy climbed into bed with her sister. “Maybe you should see a therapist.” Tracy’s words hit a sore spot.

  “Are you out of your mind? That’s what I have you for. You know me better than anybody.”

  Tracy turned on her side and snuggled up to her sister. “I know, but all I’m really doing is listening to you, JC. Letting you share your story. It’s not like I know how to advise you.”

  JC furrowed her brows. “Bullshit. You always give me good advice and you never sugarcoat anything. Now listen. You simply need to add a few catch phrases like, ‘Hmm. Let me ask you this?’ Or you can say, ‘That’s interesting.’ Or you can say, ‘How does that make you feel, JC?’ If you say those idioms, you could seriously be my shrink.”

  “He’s a piece of shit, JC. A leach. Cockroach. He was trying to drive a wedge between you and your family to control you. You can’t get over that without help.”

  The mood sobered, blanching her humor. “I love you, Tracy.”

  “I love you too.” Tracy entwined her leg around JC’s. “I wish you would have told me. Don’t ever hide anything else from me, okay?”

  Ugly memories that sifted through her nightmares crawled to the surface. She grimaced, working up the courage to unload the burden and pain. “He called me a whore. And a slut. He even accused me of having a thing for Benny and Tom.”

  “I didn’t think I could hate Luca anymore than I did ten seconds ago, but I hate him more.” Tracy’s face contorted with anger.

  JC’s lip curled with resentment and discomfiture. “So what if I’ve had a handful of lovers.”

  Tracy smirked and raised her brow.

  “Okay maybe two handfuls.”

  The brows raised higher creating a defined point.

  “Big fucking deal! So what! Fine! I’ve slept with seventeen men and a couple halvsies. Give or take a few. I didn’t start till I was eighteen. If you do the math, it’s less than three guys a year.”

  “I have never judged you JC. You’re an amazing woman,” Tracy assured tenderly.

  “The number could be triple that…at least! I say no a lot. Honestly, I think I’m fairly particular.” She rambled on in a defensive rant. “I can’t help it I like men. I always have safe sex. I never use men for material things! I don’t date men who have girlfriends, wives or kids. Does my entire reputation come down to how many lovers I’ve had? I’m a good person. I just don’t want—”

  Tracy interrupted, “JC? What’s a halfsey?”

  JC exhaled with a chuckle, shaking her head mockingly. “I was…nice a couple of times.”

  “Nice?”

  “A halfsey. You know, a blowjob.”

  Tracy nudged her sister with her shoulder. “I was nice once too.”

  Gratitude burned in her chest, appreciative of her sister’s admission. “Do you think that makes me a bad person Tracy?”

  “Of course not. I’ve always admired your spirit.”

  “Sometimes I wish I were more like you, Trace. You hardly ever stray too far from the path. And if there’s a fork in the road, you always consider your options before turning.”

  ****

  JC had about all the recovery and relaxation she could stand. Tom and Tess were leaving Greece in a few weeks to start up a humanitarian project near their home in Bora Bora to build a new school for local children. She didn’t want to be in Greece alone.

  It was too close to Italy and Luca.

  After months of living with her mom and Tom, JC began to feel like a third wheel. Being around them twenty-four-seven gave JC the opportunity to see what real love was supposed to be like. The way they touched each other spoke as if they held an entire conversation just by a slight touch of hand. The passion they shared was enough to make anyone envious of their relationship. The love in their eyes and the way they laughed together made JC realize what she had with Luca wasn’t even close to love.

  They spent all their time with her, which made her feel like a nuisance. JC blushed when she caught them making out on numerous occasions. And the funny thing was, JC knew they were holding back on account of her presence.

  Grasping onto the fact that her mother obviously had a better sex life than JC had ever dreamed possible, she approached Tess with the subject of the The Big O. To her wondrous surprise, Tess sympathized with her, explaining she too had the same elusive situation with the first few men she dated until she had met JC’s dad.

  “Sex is great, but making love is entirely different. I can’t really put it into words, but the desire and hunger you feel for a man is stronger when you’re in love.”

  “But how do you know when you’re in love? Do you grow to love someone or is it love at first sight? I tried to figure it out with Luca, but obviously what we had wasn’t even close to love. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust a man now. I should’ve stuck to my rulebook.”

  “Love might be the connection you’re missing. Someday you’ll meet a man and let your guard down.”

  It took a full two seconds for the realization of her mother’s words to hit her in the face like a brick wall. Scowling at the mere possibility that orgasms might be connected with love, JC groaned, “Oh great! I’m never gonna have great mind blowing, life altering sex. I’m screwed!”

  Tess chuckled and squeezed her arm around JC’s shoulder. “I said might. You’re trying too hard honey. You just haven’t found the right man, JC. Love or no love, you’ll find the right guy. Luca was not the right man, for many different reasons. Just don’t settle. Ever! Never settle for less than one hundred percent. Everything happens for a reason. It’ll happen for you when the time is right.”

  JC questioned softly, “Momma, do you think all that stuff with Luca was supposed to happen to me for a reason?”

  Tess sighed. “If you’re asking me if I believe Luca was meant to beat the shit out of you, the answer is hell no. However, if you’re asking me if I believe this experience will be part of what makes you who you are as a woman, I do. You can’t undo it or take it back. It’s part of your past now. It’s like a scar, you’ll always have it with you, but over time, it will fade.”

  JC shook her head in frustration and shame. “I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did.”

  “Life is only crystal clear when you’re looking back. Luca’s a good liar and very charming. Just like with every abuser, he created an image of what he thought you wanted. Everybody makes mistakes. It’s what you take away from it that matters.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JC headed to Malibu. On her flight home, therapy was back in session with a whole new line of questions. Do I even want to fall in love? Do I want to continue modeling? Where do I want to live? Maybe it’s time to think about getting my own place. My own home.

  Prior to the last year in Europe, JC spent a significant amount of time in Malibu while modeling. She loved California and her career, but found it difficult
to stomach the bullshit that went along with it. She’d learned the hard way to be careful who to trust and never reveal too much information to your so-called friends.

  The warm California sun heated her skin as she leaned on the stainless steel balcony overlooking the Pacific and took in the humid salty air. The house nestled into the hillside high above the ocean, hidden from the public eye. The modest modern décor and floor to ceiling glass panels created the perfect zen atmosphere she craved.

  JC intended on laying low for a while, hoping to avoid the paparazzi. If they suspected Tom and Tess were in town, things would get crazy in a hurry and she didn’t want to see even one camera pointed her direction. Tess thoughtfully called ahead, stocking the fridge full of JC’s favorites, so she didn’t have to leave the house until she was ready.

  In the weeks following, JC got into a routine of running, swimming and doing yoga. No amount of working out brought the much-needed comfort of a good night’s sleep. The same reoccurring nightmare of Luca’s black eyes filled with rage as he tried to choke the life out of her plagued JC nightly. She wondered if she’d ever sleep peacefully again.

  She phoned her agent Dan, remembering their last conversation. She’d explained she had some personal issues to work out.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to call. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Relief resonated in his typically monotone voice. “I’m truly sorry about the whole incident with Tom.”

  “What are you talking about?” JC asked. “What incident with Tom?”

  “When you called a few months ago saying you were ready to go back to work, I lined up several jobs for you, and then you practically did a no-show, JC. I couldn’t reach you for a week and I thought you were flaking out on me. Tom heard through the grapevine I wanted to cut you loose—”

  “Jesus, Dan. I wasn’t on my period or getting a boob job or running off with some guy. I have a great work ethic! I don’t use drugs or drink. I don’t even have an eating disorder!” JC protested vehemently. “I couldn’t work. I…I’d prefer not to go into detail, but I needed to recover. I’m the most responsible person you represent.”

  “I’m sorry, JC, but you left me in a bind. I was simply venting to a friend of mine. I had no idea my conversation would get back to you or Tom. The man called and reamed me a new asshole. The last thing I need is Tommy Clemmins pissed at me. I’d have to shut my doors.”

  JC softened. “I didn’t mean to put you in a bind.”

  “Are you all right now?” Dan asked ruefully. “I should’ve known it was serious.”

  “I’m fine.” As the short words slipped from her lips she wondered if she would ever know the definition of normal again. However, the idea of hiding behind closed doors, scared and afraid of living life, sparked a defiant rebelliousness deep in her spirit. “I’m ready to work, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone I’m in town.”

  JC didn’t need her old so-called friends calling up, putting on a fake mask, attempting to get the low down on her life. She’d never fall for that crap again. She loved Malibu, but if she decided to call it home, she’d be much more careful picking her friends.

  “No problem. I’ll call you when I have something lined up. Get some rest.”

  ****

  Rest was the last thing she needed. However, a good night’s sleep would be heavenly. She’d tried everything; hot tea, bubble bath, wine, whiskey, soothing music. She even slept with the window open. Nothing relaxed her mind. At eleven o’clock she climbed out of bed, slipped on her silky blue robe and trudged into the kitchen to make herself a cup of lavender tea.

  JC stood in the dark and gazed out the wall of windows encompassing the back of the house. The full moon cast a glimmer of moonlight over the ocean, illuminating the pale gray walls inside. She traipsed into the living room, sipping her hot tea and watching steam rise above the heated pool.

  She opened the sliding glass door, and grabbed the soft white fleece throw draped over the sofa. Taking measures not to spill, she carefully sank down onto the sofa, finishing her tea. The chill of the rich brown leather warmed as she snuggled into a ball, tucking a pillow under her head. Inhaling the salty ocean air calmed her, slowly releasing the tension from her tired limbs. Steadying her breathing to the distant sound of the ocean crashing against the rocky coastline below, JC drifted off to sleep.

  As her nightmare began to replay, JC thrashed back and forth on the sofa accidentally kicking the driftwood coffee table. Jolting upright, covered in a film of perspiration, she rubbed her aching foot. The moon now tucked behind a thick layer of fog, blanketing the room in complete obscurity. She lumbered into the kitchen to see how long she’d slept. “Oh, man,” she grumbled, glancing at the clock reading twelve thirty.

  Scrubbing her tired eyes, her hip slumped against the kitchen counter.

  What would you do if you were in my shoes, Momma? JC wondered, staring out the window into the blackness. She chuckled to herself. “You’d probably run.”

  It was too late to go for a jog, but the warm pool looked tempting. Placing her empty mug on the counter, she ambled toward the open sliding glass door. JC let out a little giggle. “You’d definitely be skinny dipping.”

  She’d made it a habit of not swimming alone, but the calm water lured her in. “Screw it. What’s the worst that could happen? I’d fall and get a concussion. I could use the sleep.”

  Cautiously, she scurried across the large white travertine tiles bordering the long rectangular pool, slick from ocean fog. The cool air felt exhilarating against her warm damp skin. Goosebumps skittered across her skin, stimulating her nipples into tight buds. JC untied the silk belt of her robe and tossed it over the chaise beside the pool. Steam rising from the surface of the warm water gently swirled in the light breeze, misting her nude body.

  Loose strands of her long mane brushed against her breast as she bent slightly, dipping her toe into the warm water. Sinking her other foot onto the second step, JC halted.

  Ripples in the water lapped against the edge of the pool.

  Preparing for a mild earthquake, she held her arms straight out to the side for balance.

  Perched on the step, she noticed movement in the water. A shadowy figure swam toward her under water. The dark silhouette of a man did a front summersault under water, pushing off the edge of the pool three feet beside where she stood immobilized on the steps. Without surfacing for air, he glided toward the opposite side of the pool.

  The man emerged from the veil of steam, rising out of the water with his back to her. The loud release of his held breath echoed in the quiet night.

  Her heart raced erratically, pounding in her ears. Time decelerated into fragments of slow terrifying moments. Her voice abandoned her.

  The intruder stood in waist deep water, running his hands through his collar length hair, discarding excess water. A tattoo covered the left side of his heavily muscled back, starting from his hip and climbing up to the top of his shoulder.

  She stood petrified. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump rang in her ears. Her feet rooted to the step refusing to move on command.

  “Help,” she screamed, but the cries were nearly inaudible.

  The man stood erect and cocked his head. Turning slowly, he caught full view of JC standing at the edge of the pool, naked. He stared at her in disbelief, as if she were a dream, until she cried out for help again. Shaking his head into reality. He raised his hands in the air, holding them in front of his chest. “Oh, hell. It’s okay, ma’am.”

  Panic hindered her escape. Her throat constricted and she couldn’t breathe or swallow.

  The man placed his palms on the edge of the pool, swiftly hopping out of the water buck-ass naked.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered, catching view of the massive size of the intruder. Her brain kicked into consciousness. Unsteady hands automatically covered her private parts, hiding them from his gape.

  Though she covered her nudity, the trespasser seemed too flustered to do th
e same. JC’s pulse rampaged thunderously through her veins. Her mouth hung open as she stared at the tall big-framed silhouette of the naked man. The moon peaked out from the darkness, exposing the bearded shadow on his face and the damp hair clinging to his fit muscular body.

  Time slowed, turning seconds into minutes. Every powerful muscle became visible in the moonlight as he bent over reaching for clothes lying in a pile next to the pool. “Oh, hell. I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

  And then he was gone.

  Just like that.

  He jogged naked, streaking down the side of the house, scaling the block wall next to the driveway.

  JC sucked in the air she’d been holding. Her knees buckled and she dropped to her bottom, crumpling beside the pool with her feet still dangling in the water. Dazed and frightened, she sat breathless for minutes, struggling for air and courage. When her feet finally decide to function, she hustled inside and locked the door behind her.

  She locked and re-locked the doors three times, pacing back and forth, peering out the windows into the shadows. JC considered calling the police, but didn’t want the unwanted media blitz that would arrive alongside the authorities. After an hour, she dragged herself back to bed. Waiting for exhaustion to kick in, JC replayed the confrontation. Why was he in my pool? He didn’t try to attack me. She swallowed hard. Merely thinking about him made her heart start pounding again.

  “Did he seriously just call me ma’am? Great! I almost got robbed by the bag-boy from the grocery store,” she grumbled cynically. “That guy was definitely not a boy.”

  Succumbing to fatigue, she slept until sunrise only to wake at the end of a completely inappropriate dream about the imposing trespasser. She jolted straight up in bed, glancing around her room, making certain it was just a dream. “Maybe I should see a shrink.”