And again.

And again.

Until it became a part of me.

Until no one would call me soft again.

Until no one would ever again doubt my strength.

Not even Charlie fucking Mallick.--"You are not serious," I said, leaning over the back of the booth I was supposed to be cleaning into Connor's, bemused smile pulling at my lips.

"As a heart attack," he told me, giving me a warm smile he wasn't often known for. "Stark ass naked right there at his desk," he told me, talking about one of his father's co-workers who was apparently having an affair with the nighttime cleaning staff, and had fallen asleep after their, ah, excursions.

"What did they do?"

"What any group of professional, respectful men would do. Drew shit all over him then put his hand in warm water."

The laugh that came out of me was the first real one that day, taking with it some of the darkness that I had been shouldering since I woke up in the morning, terror gripping my throat as I dragged out getting dressed for my day, not willing to admit it to myself, but afraid to go downstairs and see my family.

I eventually did it, a lump in my throat the size of Texas, slipping down the hall to the kitchen to hide with Helga like I was a child all over again.

"Oh, that is a dark cloud, herzchen," she had greeted me.

"When your family gets in the way of your love life... potential," I rushed to correct. "Potential love life, it has a way of putting you in a funk."

"You met a man," she said, eyebrows wiggling with a pure feminine appreciation, and maybe a smidgen, or smidgen and a half, of a motherly teasing. "Who is this man finally good enough to turn your very particular head?"

I chanced a look around, moving close, and whispering in her ear. "Charlie."

I didn't need to explain any further than that. She knew all my father's men.

"Oh, herzchen," she said, sighing out her breath, patting me on the cheek. "You are determined to make your life difficult," she told me, clucking her tongue.

"No worries, Helga," I said, rinsing my coffee cup before placing it into the drainboard. "Nothing is going to come of it."

"Oh, famous last words!" she declared as I backed out the door, blowing her a kiss.

"You alright tonight?" Connor asked, head tipped to the side as he studied me, seeing perhaps too much. "Did something happen with Mallick last night? Do you need me to have a word with him?"

Oh, he was a good man.

It was reassuring to be reminded they did, indeed, exist.

I couldn't help but wonder, though, if I deserved to be the recipient of the attention of one.

"It was just a concert." And a kiss. And a life-altering conversation.

Connor's head ducked for a long moment, studying his half-empty, and likely stone cold coffee for a long moment, considering his words, weighing if he should speak them or not. In the end, his head raised.

"Can't say I am disappointed to hear that, Helen," he said, shrugging a shoulder. "You deserve better."

"That's sweet. I am not so sure-"

"I am," he cut me off before I could continue. "I am sure. And if he has made you doubt that for a second, then he's an even bigger asshole than I thought."

"It's not that," I said, shaking my head. "It's..." I trailed off, sighing.

"It's what?" he demanded, shaking his head. "You need to talk. I'm here. Talk. Believe me, Helen, there's nothing you can tell me that I don't... know about already," he said carefully, reminding me yet again of who he was, who his father was, what he planned to become. A man who might want to take my father down some day.

I bit into my cheek. "Have you ever been bullied, Connor?" I asked, not looking over at him, watching out the large plate glass window instead, not pausing to wait for his answer either. "I mean a lot. Every day. Until their voice is louder than your own in your head? Until you aren't even sure that there is enough of you inside to be anything other than their punching bag, their whipping boy?"

"Helen, you listen to me," he started, voice fierce, so fierce that my head whipped over to him, so used to his softness that his hard caught me off-guard. "You are not a fucking punching bag. And you are more than what those assholes make you think you are. Don't start doubting yourself because of what they say. Their lives are pure ugly. They don't know beautiful when it is right in front of them. Or if they do, they want to destroy it because it is only a reminder of how hideous they are."

I felt a stinging in my eyes, making me blink back the onslaught of tears before I could utterly embarrass myself right in the middle of my shift.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Mallick Brothers Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net