“You see,” she patted my cheek. “You have something of mine. And I want it back.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have anything of yours.”
“Yes.” She nodded, her smile growing wide. “You do.”
“What do I have?”
“You’ll see.” She walked away, whistling to herself.
“Where’s Nika?” I asked, praying with everything in me that she was okay.
“She’s fine.” Morgan waved it off. “I slapped her around a bit.” She turned back to me, looking over her shoulder. “I did like you, Mae. But when I saw you with Matteo, I knew something had to be done.”
“Leave him alone. Please. Haven’t you done enough to him already?”
She tsked. “Is my boyfriend telling lies again?” She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m not a monster, no matter what he says.”
“He is not your boyfriend!” I screamed, the shackles on my restraints clinking with my struggles. “You are delusional. He doesn’t want you. He’s never wanted you. You broke him. You destroyed him. You are nothing to him. Do you hear me? Nothing!”
Morgan stared at me for a moment. “You got it all wrong. He does want me. He proposed to me. You were there remember?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I was not there.”
“Yes you were. At the club. He proposed to me that night. We watched the whipping scene together. Don’t you remember?” Her chin quivered, her eyes welling.
My mouth opened and closed. She honestly believed that Matteo proposed to her. That he belonged to her. That they were happy. A part of me felt sorry for her. She was clearly sick and I only wished I could get her the help she needed. If I couldn’t, I knew Matteo could. “Morgan, I don’t—”
“Morgan?” she tilted her head. “Who’s Morgan?”
“What?” I asked, gaping at her. “You’re Morgan.”
“No, I’m not silly. I’m Emily. Emily Griffin. We work together. And now you’re going to be in my wedding.” Emily or Morgan, whatever her name was, moved around the room, opening and closing the drawers with the smaller toys in them.
“You’re not Morgan?” I asked again.
“No.” She smiled at me. “You must have hit your head a little too hard when I brought you in here. I’m sorry about that. But nope, I’m Emily.”
Confusion coursed through me. I swore she was Morgan. She even matched the description Matteo gave me. Blood red lips. Ruby nails. Pale skin. Tall and beautiful but deadly. Maybe she had completely lost it.
“How long have you and Matteo been dating?” I asked her, playing along with her game. If you could even call it that.
“For a couple of years. I met him at his office when I got lost. He was so helpful.” Emily picked up a black leather flogger, giving her palm a light tap with the small toy.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She honestly thought that she was with him. That they loved each other and were going to live long and happy together. “You’re crazy,” I blurted.
“Excuse me?” Emily snapped, her head whipping around.
Before I knew it, she was on me. The chair toppled backwards and I landed hard on my back with an oomph.
“I’m crazy? I’ll show you fucking crazy.” Emily wrapped her hands around my neck, squeezing until I gasped for air.
My mouth opened and closed, pleading with her to let me breathe. Oh dear God. This was it. I was going to die. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
(Matteo)
Something wasn’t right. I had texted Marketa knowing we needed to talk and asked her to meet me in the lobby of my apartment building. When she never responded, a twist of anxiety ate at my gut. She was supposed to be hanging out with Emily and Nika. I wasn’t sure if Emily would try anything but I remembered her at Duncan’s club. She clearly saw us together. Maybe she snapped. Maybe that was why Mae hadn’t returned my texts.
As the elevator reached the top floor, my nerves were on end. I ran to my door, thankful it was closed with no signs of forced entry.
“Marketa?” I called out, slowly making my way into the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room or on the balcony. Just as I was about to head down the hallway, a groan sounded from the kitchen, startling me. I rushed to the soft noise, finding Nika on the floor.
“Nika,” I knelt at her side. “What happened?”
“Matteo,” she mumbled, bringing her hand up to a cut on her head.
I grabbed a cloth and called 911. “An ambulance and the police are on their way,” I told Nika, kneeling beside her head.
Her eyes shot open. “Marketa.” She struggled to get up, her body shaking with the added effort.
“Take it easy, darlin’. Where is Marketa?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” I asked roughly.
A sob escaped her. She dropped her head in her hands, her shoulders trembling. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?” I demanded, my heart racing so hard, my chest hurt.
“I didn’t know who she was. I had no idea.” Nika’s body wracked with cries.
“What do you mean?” I tried to be patient but I needed to know where the hell my woman was.
“Emily took her.” Nika’s eyes were wide with fear.
Spots danced in my vision at the mention of her name but it wasn’t possible. I gripped my chest, forcing the nightmares to the recesses of my mind.
“I’m sorry,” Nika cried.
I shoved to my feet, reached for my phone and was about to call Marketa again when I heard a thump from my playroom. “Marketa.”
Rushing to the door, I pushed it open, finding Emily on top of Mae. “Get the hell off of her,” I yelled, charging into the room. Emily didn’t seem to hear me, keeping her hands tightly wrapped around Marketa’s neck.
“He’s mine. Do you hear me? Mine!” she yelled over and over.
Everything next happened so fast. A bang sounded from the hallway. Loud deep voices demanding answers. A woman, lying on the floor, a gunshot wound to her chest. A trembling Mae…Mae. I shook my head, snapping myself out of it.
Picking up Marketa, I held her shaking body tight against mine and carried her out into the living room. I never said anything. I just waited.
Marketa and Nika hugged, crying and apologizing to each other profusely. The police questioned them, asking them if they knew the woman.
“She’s a patient of mine from over a year ago and I…she sent me love letters,” I explained to Marketa and the police. “She was obsessed with me.”
“When we find out more, we’ll let you know.”
All I could do was nod as I stared at Mae’s ring free finger.
“Oh, and I found this.” The police officer handed me a diamond ring.
A breath left me on a whoosh.
Mae sobbed when I put it back on her finger.
Never again would I leave her. Never again would I doubt her love for me. Never again would I let my darkness take over.
I was a sick man but with the proper help, I would be fine.
Mae
It had been a year since I watched the life leave Emily Griffin’s eyes. She stared up at me, pleading. But it wasn’t my fault. It was never my fault. The police shot and killed her, protecting me and my baby. If she wouldn’t have run, if she wouldn’t have come barreling towards me with that knife in her hands, she would still be alive. Locked up in a mental hospital somewhere, but she would still be breathing getting the help she needed.
I could still remember the metallic taste of her blood on my lips. The gunshots rang out. Matteo’s screams. My shock that a person was dying right in front of me. I never wanted her to die. I never wished her any harm. I felt sorry for her. Her demons were so strong, they controlled her. They made her sick and deranged. A part of me wondered if she even knew better. She had kept shrines of other men. Matteo being one of them. She had every newspaper clipping on
Matteo and his success as a psychologist. The police had found journals of her saying that she got the job at Cello’s only because Matteo was a regular customer. He had helped her once and she repaid him by becoming possessed.
I had asked Matteo about that day and what his professional opinion was but he never gave me an answer. He said she was ill and left it at that. But I knew there was more to it. I knew because Matteo had experienced what Emily had. Hallucinations. Nightmares. A darkness so strong, it controlled even the healthiest of minds.
It had been six months since Matteo was diagnosed with schizophrenia and PTSD. Doctors tried diagnosing him with multiple personality disorder but since he only heard one voice, he didn’t believe them. He had shown me the video. Him screaming at Morgan even though it was Emily. She played it into it, making him think all along that she was the monster inside of Matteo’s head. Even the phone calls he had with Morgan never existed. I couldn’t understand exactly how the mind could be so powerful into making up full conversations, full scene’s but it never happened. But the victim thought it did. It was sad and it broke my heart that millions of people lived that way, not getting the help they needed or deserved.
Morgan never existed in our world. But Matteo saw her. Every day. Every time he closed his eyes. But she was never there. Not to me. But to him, she was a physical life form even though she hadn’t been alive since before Matteo killed her years before. It had been self-defence but it had eaten him up throughout the years that it made him relive those nightmares day in and day out. Never truly being free of her.
“I ended her,” he had told me, explaining the video that Cathy had revealed to him. “But I never killed her in here.” When he had pointed to his head, I kissed him. His mouth. His nose. His forehead. His temple. His whole face.
I could see the shining fear in his eyes of me leaving him. But I didn’t. I married him instead.
But he knew. I knew. He was sick. And if he didn’t take his meds, or have the therapy sessions we gave each other, he would have jumped off that cliff long ago.
He told me every day since then that because of me, he felt normal. Safe.
And I agreed.
He gave me our precious baby boy, Malik, and I could never repay the gift.
After everything that had happened, the demons we dealt with on a daily basis were gone. Morgan. Andre. Thanks to both of our fathers, Matteo and I could start our healing process.
The beautiful pain of our past threatened to destroy us but we finally overcame that darkness.
Our hearts had stopped before they started beating again…
…together.
While traveling to Italy last November, Matteo Santos appeared. I knew he was Mexican but never in a million years would I think that he was half Italian. He demanded my attention and nine months later, Beautiful Pain was born.
It’s been a long, emotionally, exhausting road but thanks to all of you, I’ve been able to make it through this unexpected journey.
To my husband; for putting up with my mood swings, the pressure I put on myself, the sleepless nights…you are my rock and without you as my foundation, I would have crumbled long ago.
My family: Although most of you have not read my work, you support me. You give me countless hours of encouragement. And I can’t thank you enough for just standing by me.
Twinsie Talk Book Reviews, I can never write an acknowledgment without giving you girls some form of shoutout. Everything you have done for me goes beyond what I ever imagined. I remember when I told you I was going to start writing. You were so supportive and encouraged me to write harder and faster. Your love of my stories has kept me going. I love you!!
Angie Stanton-Johnson and Tammi Plummer; two of the best PA’s a girl could ask for. I couldn’t do any of this without your help. I love you girls like sisters. I don’t tell you enough.
Brenda Wright, your patient knows no bounds. Love you!
Rachel Mizer with ShoutLines Designs. Thank you once again for another beautiful cover.
Golden Czermak with FuriousFotog: Thank YOU for the hottest cover image ever! I love forward to working with you in the future! #FuriousArmy
Dustin Sherer: Thank you for allowing me to have you on my cover and for bringing Matteo Santos to life! Here’s to future covers!
My Jems!!!!!! My girls. My readers. My loves. You ladies are the solid ground I walk on! You keep me going. You deal with my craziness. You deal with me! I love each and every one of you. You all have a special spot in my heart. You are my family!
To the blogs, authors, readers, everyone who has stood by my side through the writing, plotting and release of this book; thank you. I don’t have enough words to tell you how grateful I am. So thank you.
I love you all!
xx
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
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J. M. Walker, Beautiful Pain
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