Painkiller (Fatally Flawed Book 4) Read online

  Painkiller

  (Fatally Flawed Series)

  Book 4

  By: Dusty Lassetter

  Painkiller

  a Fatally Flawed novel

  Copyright ©2017 by Dusty Lassetter

  All rights reserve. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means. Without prior permission from the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are wither products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity.

  Prologue

  Dalton

  The bar in the hotel I’m currently sitting at is full of business men, like myself, trying to drink away their long day. I’m still sipping on my first glass watching the people around me when a raven-haired beauty captures my eye. The way she is sipping her drink from a tiny red straw has me wishing it was her mouth on something else. The black and white polka dot pattern of her modest dress reminds me of something a secret naughty girl would wear, my curiosity is starting to get the best of me. Standing from my seat while downing the rest of my drink I make my way toward her.

  “I’ll be Burger King and you be McDonalds,” I say leaning into her personal space. Those big blue eyes framed with a pair of black-glasses, considering mine.

  “What?” She retorts beginning to slowly edging away from me.

  “I’ll have it my way and you’ll be loving it.”

  A small smile breaks out on her face bringing out two-deep-dimples on her cheeks before she gives a shy giggle.

  Giving her a wink and a smile I take a seat beside her.

  “That was probably the worse pick-up line I’ve ever heard,” she states honestly.

  “I got to see that gorgeous smile of yours so I’ll stand by my corny-one-liner,” I declare making her smile deepen. “To whom do I have the pleasure of taking home tonight?” I ask with confidence in my voice.

  “If I give you my name will you promise not to forget it?”

  Considering her blue-eyes before trailing a path down her heart shaped face, I can since the vulnerability coming off her. I tell she’s nervous by the way she keeps taking sips of her drink like she isn’t sure what to do with her hands.

  “Let’s play a game,” I declare, “if I am able to guess what your name is I get to take you to my room upstairs, and show you just how memorable I can be.”

  With a look of uncertainty in her eyes she gives me the slightest nod of her head. Jumping on the opportunity, before she can have any doubts, I give my first guess.

  “Carly?” I question, and watch as she shakes her head no while teasing me with her lips once again attached to the straw.

  “Rachel, “I try again getting it wrong for the second time. Running my hand through my hair pretending to be deep in thought I inwardly smile knowing I’ve won the game. Waving down the bartender I grab her hand, “put Autumn’s drink on my tab, Brian,” I command while helping her off the stool.

  “How do you know your right?” She asks following me to the elevators. I stay quiet as we wait for the cart to arrive, enjoying the reaction she has to my silence. Shuffling her weight from foot-to-foot, she finally looks up at me nervously, “I don’t usually do this sort of thing.”

  I’m saved from having to make a comment when the elevator doors open, inviting us into its small empty space. Walking in with confidence, I turn around and notice she has yet to follow me. Not wanting to pressure her into anything I patiently wait until she decides what she wants to do. When she finally takes the small step forward I inwardly smile. I find the excitement and apprehension shining through her eyes to be contagious.

  “I didn’t have to get your name right.” I state stepping into her personal space. She is small, even for a woman, her head barely coming to my chest. Grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at me, I close the distance even more.

  “You want this as bad as I do,” I declare before taking her lips in a rough kiss.

  ##########

  Throwing my shirt on, opting to keep it untucked, I start to button it up when I hear the rustle of sheets behind me. Not bothering to turn around, I walk into the bathroom, readying myself to go back home to an empty house.

  “What’s your hurry?” I hear her ask from behind me. Spinning around, seeing the longing in her eyes, I realize I am going to have to end this now.

  “I can’t see you anymore, April.” I say. The small smile, of satisfaction, on her face is soon replaced with a frown. Taking a step back, I can see her trying to hide the tears now pooling in her eyes.

  “It’s because of her, isn’t it?” She questions. When I first met April, several months ago, we were both trying to nurse broken hearts and tired of doing it alone. We’ve never gone on a date, never had dinner, and both agreed sex was the only thing we wanted. Pretending to be someone different each time helps me cope with the feelings of betrayal I get when I’m with someone that is not Bethany.

  “You knew what this was when we started.” I remind her, walking to the door to leave. “I’m sorry, April, but we both knew this would never be anything more.” Opening the door, I walk out to her whispering, “she doesn’t deserve you.”

  Bethany

  Twisting my hands, on my denim covered lap, I think about the question my therapist, Mary Robinson, just asked. Am I nervous that Dalton is going to be with my mother, to bring me home tomorrow? The thought of seeing the only man I have ever loved should feel me with a sense of happiness and joy, but the only emotion I feel, thinking of finally staring into his forest green eyes again, is panicky. The time I have been in this rehab facility I’ve opted to have no visitors or phone calls, so I have not spoken to Dalton since that morning, that forever will be seared into my memory, nine months ago.

  My head is throbbing and my mouth is as dry as the Sahara Desert. Blinking open my eyes while trying to move my heavy limbs, I grimace from the light coming through the window. The taste in my mouth suggest I may well be dead, but I know that to be a lie by the aching in my soul that never goes away. Slowly turning my head to the right I can hear soft footsteps in the kitchen. The smell of coffee has me rising from the couch, confused as to why I am naked under a dirty sheet, I gradually make my way to the aroma.

  Hearing the kitchen door being swung open Dalton turns and pins me with a stare. His soft green eyes, I once longed to be the main focus of, are looking at me with relief and a hint of pain. His curly hair is messy, most likely from rubbing his hands through it, and the black circles under his eyes shows me he didn’t get much sleep.

  “Sit down, Bethany.” He orders, causing me to flinch from his tone. He no longer calls me love, not that I should expect him to, I have been the one slowly destroying our relationship. That doesn’t mean the hurt isn’t there when he uses my real name instead.

  Doing as he asked, I take a seat at the table and give him my full attention. Making sure the sheet is tight around my chest, I place my hands in my lap, and start twisting my hands together. “Tell me what you remember from last night.” Dalton says, his voice now void of any emotion.

  “We had another fight.” I state, not wanting to mention what the argument was over. I don’t feel like hashing it out, again. It’s obvious he thinks I have a problem, but it’s not like I am shooting heroine up my arm. “I left and….” Saying that, I begin to realize I don’t remember anything past walking out the door. I remember being angry and hurt. Dalton had taken away the only thing I have to numb the constant fee
ling of anguish I now walk around with.

  “And?” He questions, his eyes hardening like I’ve never seen before. His arms are shoulder length apart, hands resting on the counter top, muscular shoulders slumped making him look troubled. Trying to rake my brain for the tiniest clue, I start to get a sinking feeling in my stomach when I come up empty handed.

  “I don’t remember.” I whisper, twisting my fingers to the point of pain. How is this possible? Why do I not remember anything past slamming the door, almost glad I had finally destroyed the only good thing left in my life.

  “You don’t remember meeting up with, Keira, and going to a drug dealers house? Do you recall letting a strange man strip you naked and take what you so willingly gave him?” He asks, defeat and betrayal clear in his tone. Shaking my head no. Feeling my eyes start to fill with tears, I bite down on my lip so hard I can taste the blood. The look on Dalton’s face tells me he wishes it were a lie.

  “Do you hate my touch so much; you had to go looking for someone else’s?” Dalton whispers, his head now hanging down, undoubtedly trying to hide his pain. “It’s up to you to get the help you need, Bethany. I’m done.”

  Before I can reply he walks out of the kitchen. Leaving me to watch his retreating back knowing I am the cause of his shoulders hunching in misery and fist clinching at his sides. I stand on shaky legs, with my mouth even more dry now, and walk to the refrigerator for a bottled water. In order to make the phone calls needed I am going to have to hydrate myself first.

  “Bethany, did you hear me?” Mary asks in a patient tone.

  “No.. No..” I whisper. “I heard you, I was just remembering the last time I saw him. To answer your question, my heart is soaring at the idea of seeing Dalton again, but my mind is having a hard time not shutting down from fear.”

  “Why would you fear Dalton, Bethany?”

  “Let me rephrase, that.” I say, finally looking her in the eyes. “I don’t fear Dalton because he would never intentionally hurt me.” I clarify, thinking of all the times I had set out to hurt him after the loss of our son. Taking my pain and anger out on the wrong person. There was a time when I had blamed Dalton for everything because of his friendship with K.J. and Jasper, but that was just to cover up my feelings of guilt. Deep down I wanted him to leave me. That is what I thought I deserved. My punishment for not being strong enough to do what any mother should do, protect their child.

  “I fear the look of rejection in his eyes.” I finally whisper.

  Chapter 1

  Dalton

  The receptionist at the, giant oak, desk presses the number two on the telephone before placing it to her ear. Her name tag says, “Sunny,” making me smile because the name suits her perfectly. Short blonde hair and a bright smile reminds me of a time I would have been attracted to her. Now as I watch as her get nervous, under my stare, I can only think of the reason I’m here. That is why being with April was so easy. She has long black hair, eyes the color of the sky, and a broken heart to match mine.

  “If you could just have a seat, Bethany, will be down shortly.” Sunny says, avoiding any eye contact with me, only looking at, Sarah, Bethany’s mother. Gently grabbing Sarah by the elbow, I walk her to one of the bench seats by the large window overlooking the ocean. Sarah is older than both my parents, having had Bethany in her late thirties, she is also a widow. Bethany’s dad, David Myers, was found dead in their home when she was thirteen. The doctors said he had a massive heart attack. So, that is why I decided to come along with Sarah today, she has become like a second mother to me. She needed the support, I remind myself, and that is the only reason for me being here.

  Placing her hands in her lap, much like Bethany does, Sarah starts twisting her fingers. Taking my hand, covering her much smaller ones, I consider her sage green eyes. Hair the same color as Bethany’s, naturally blonde, that has turned darker throughout the years, with soft curls flowing down her back. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” She says, giving me a small smile. When I first met, Sarah, I was surprised to find out her age, considering she looks younger than my mother. That just turned thirty-eight.

  “I make most women nervous, Mrs. Myers.” I declare, loving the look she gives me when I call her that. She says the formal name makes her feel older than she is. “I blame it on my bodacious bod.” I finish while managing to keep a straight face. I remember the first-time Bethany had introduced me to her mother, I did what I always do with beautiful women, made her laugh. My philosophy, life is too short. Live and laugh often.

  “You do know how to make an old woman blush.” She laughs out, obviously forgiving me for calling her Mrs. Myers. Removing my hand from hers, I inwardly smile when she no longer winds her fingers together. I can tell the moment Bethany is walking toward us from the relief and happiness in Sarah’s eyes. Turning my head. I watch as the woman I love, but cannot trust, slowly walks toward us.

  She is wearing a pastel blue sundress, reminding me of the girl she was in high school, with her long, thick, curly hair hanging down her sides. The dress is loose around her legs, but tight around the waist showing off the weight she must have gained back while staying here. Her skin looks healthy from a tan that most likely came from spending time on the beach.

  “I remember when my husband, David, used to look at me that way.” Sarah says, while walking by me to wrap Bethany in her arms. Choosing to ignore the comment, I stand from my seat, and patiently wait for them to finish their family reunion. Bethany and Sarah have always been close, but they get along better when they’re not living under the same roof. When Bethany’s dad passed away, Sarah became overprotective in a smothering way. If you ask, Bethany, moving out on her own when she was eighteen was the best decision she ever made.

  When the ladies finally break their embrace, Sarah steps to the side, leaving Bethany staring at me with a look of panic in her eyes. Realizing this is harder for her, than me, I walk the few steps needed to take her into my arms.

  “It’s good to see you, Bethany.” I whisper, keeping the embrace as friendly as possible. While it may feel good to have her in my arms again, my mind can’t help but imagen the last man’s arms she was in. I feel her body melt into mine, hearing my kind words, and immediately step away. The look of loss on her face is swift, before she hides it with a forced smile.

  “Are you ready to go home, dear?” Her mom questions, grabbing onto Bethany’s shoulder to guide her out of the building. “We have so much catching up to do.” Reaching down, before Bethany can, I grab her bag. She is still paying attention to all the plans her mother has for them, so when she blindly reaches down for the suitcase handle her hand lands on top of mine. Pulling it back quickly, she turns her attention to me, “I can get that.” She whispers.

  Giving her a look of fake defense, “I am more than capable of being a gentleman. I’m not a thuggish asshole.” I respond, my voice growing hard towards the end of the statement. She visibly trembles before placing her hands together to start twisting her fingers. Instantly regretting my comment, I force one of my best smiles. “You remember what happened last time my Momma seen you carrying something when my hands were empty?” I ask, watching golden brown eyes lighten up from the memory.

  “I told Carolina I didn’t trust you to carry in the cake.” Bethany giggles out. Without realizing it, I have started to rub the back of my head where my mom smacked me, and both the women begin to laugh at me.

  “It’s good to see you without that ugly hat on.” Bethany states.

  “Yeah, Candice and Izzy made me promise not to wear it with my suits anymore.” I say to her, watching as her eyes start roaming over the rest of me. I left the black suit jacket in my car, rolling up the sleeves to my white button up shirt. I try not to wear ties, only when I must, so the first few buttons of the shirt are undone. Clearing my throat, I watch as Bethany face starts to blush the prettiest pink from having been caught eyeing me like candy. Giving her a wink, she reddens even further, before looking down at the ground.


  “Let’s go you two.” Sarah laughs out, “I think it’s safe to say we could all use some cool fresh air. It’s starting to get stuffy in here.”

  I laugh out loud as well. Knowing Sarah is hinting at the attraction that is still between her daughter and me.

  “Speaking of stuffing, Mrs. Myers, when was the last time you were satisfied?” I ask, making both women turn around quickly. Their huge eyes, and open mouths tell me I may have said to much. Thinking quick on my feet, like I always do, I turn the fault around. “I was talking about food, ladies. You two really need to get your heads out of the gutter. Then maybe we can all have lunch.” I declare, walking past them towards the exit. I can easily hear them when they start mumbling to one another, apparently not buying my story. Keeping the door open for them both, Bethany looks up at me with a huge smile, causing the all too familiar ache in my chest to reappear. Having her near me, not being able to kiss her lips, is harder than I thought it would be. There is a small voice in the back of my head whispering at me to take what is mine, but the much more logical part is screaming a reminder of her disloyalty. This is where the, screw me once shame on me, saying comes to mind. I would be a fool to think we could have what we once did. With that in mind, I place the luggage in my car, before coming up with an excuse not to have the lunch I just offered. Lying about an impromptu meeting.

  ##########

  “What’s it going to be?” A waitress wearing too short of a skirt, too much make-up, and a top so low it can barely contain all her cleavage comes rolling up to my table. Looking up into her blue eyes, I smile. “Cute rollerblades.” I say, looking down at the hot pink and black design that matches her outfit.

  “I haven’t got all day, Mister.” She says, smacking her bubble gum. “My boss gets real cranky if I don’t come up with enough tips. Standing here with you gives me less time to make other costumers happy.”