The Break (Unbroken Raine Falling 2)

Beck swallowed down a healthy gulp of Scotch and hissed. “What did you do this time?”

Hammer filled the sadist in on all the ugly details as he refilled their glasses.

When he was done, Hammer closed his eyes. He could still see Juliet’s pale, naked body lying on their bed. Her blonde tresses spilled out over the gray silk sheets; white foam congealed around her blue lips. Her eyes were open, lifeless, staring past him as if he wasn’t there. And he hadn’t been when she’d taken her own life. When the world had crumbled beneath Juliet’s feet, she’d given up, welcoming the end without him.

“I should have told Liam how much guilt I was drowning in a long time ago. But I didn’t.” Hammer rubbed at his forehead. “He was so young, and I thought I was protecting him because he wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. Besides, she was my wife. Liam had signed up for sex and good times, not…all that. I didn’t know how to cope, so I shut down. I shouldered all the responsibility for her death. When he moved on to a normal life and got married, I resented the fuck out of him. I just kept getting more and more pissed off. I ended up blaming him for pretty much everything.”

“You’re a dumbass.” Beck shook his head.

“Yep.” Hammer groused, then downed the contents of his glass and filled it once more. “I accused him of helping to push Juliet over the edge because he frequently fucked other subs.”

“Is that true?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Hammer sighed. “She never told me how she felt. About anything.”

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought. You blame Liam for maybe upsetting Juliet because he couldn’t keep his pants zipped. But you know your manwhoredom crushed Raine and you didn’t take responsibility for that one whit. Really, dude?”

“I know. I was just pissed as hell and looking for a way to unload my guilt.” Shaking his head, he swirled the liquid in his glass and watched it turn. “What Juliet did completely shell-shocked me. I didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with it. I sure as hell couldn’t bring myself to examine my own role too closely. Blaming him was easier.”

“Are you examining it now?”

“I’m trying not to. Hence the Scotch,” Hammer replied, then tossed back a healthy swig.

“Yeah, that’ll really do the trick,” Beck drawled.

“No, it won’t. Trust me. I’ve tried for years.” But that didn’t stop him from pouring another. He tipped back the glass in a futile attempt to wipe away the memory. Sure, it numbed his guilt, but never eradicated the stain from his soul.

“So maybe you should stop trying to drown your crap. Dissect it and then let it go. Hell, who knows, you just might end up a happier son of a bitch.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?”

“Gee, I have no clue.” Beck shook his head. “You’ve got to come clean with Liam.”

“Why would I do that after he stole Raine?”

“Stole? Let’s cut the shit, shall we?” Beck leaned in and narrowed his eyes. “You owe Liam an apology. And then you need to pull your balls out of your purse, cupcake, and tell Raine how you feel about her. See what happens.”

“Don’t you have a home to go back to?” He glared, nursing his drink.

“Aww, but digging in your head is a lot more fun.” He slapped Hammer on the shoulder. “Besides, you need a friend who’s not afraid to put a stop to your big ol’ boo-hoo pity party.”

Hammer winced. “Don’t hold back, Beck. Tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m trying. Pull your head out of your ass, unless you enjoy the smell. If you didn’t tell Liam anything about Juliet’s death, how could you expect him to take half the blame?”

“She killed herself, and he never asked why. What the hell?”

“What would you have done in Liam’s shoes? The woman you’re sharing in an open relationship offs herself, and her husband won’t talk to you.”

Hammer drained his glass, wishing he could strangle Beck for such an ugly goddamn question. “I guess…” He sighed. “Fuck, if I’d been Liam, that would have been my sign to keep out. He said he didn’t want to pry, but I think he blamed me.”

“But he didn’t tell you that?”

“No.”

“So you’re assuming?”

“Shut up, Freud.” He poured more Scotch. “You’re a vascular surgeon, not a shrink.”

Beck shrugged. “I did my nine weeks’ psych rotation. I’m almost qualified.”

“Then why don’t you examine your own life? There’s plenty of shit there.”

“Nah. I’m screwed up, but not nearly as much as you.” Beck chuckled.

“Fuck off.”

“Seriously. Stop drowning in your booze and go apologize to Liam.”

“He won’t listen to a damn thing I have to say, especially after I told him I’d fuck Raine again when I got the chance.”