Beautiful Devil: The Rockstar Duet Book 2
The only man who deserved my love was Ryan. The pain written on his handsome face and his pleas to make me stay would always remain stamped vividly onto my mind.
9
Ryan
Two weeks had passed since Emily left me, taking my soul with her and breaking my heart. I couldn’t fault her for her actions. But I hoped she didn’t hate me—the murderer of her father. The father whom she’d secretly loved, keeping his picture close to her heart.
After quitting her job at Wild Angels, Emily went back to France. Misty, her friend, told me all she knew about the situation and assured me Emily had left for good. But I secretly hoped my girl would return. Her life and career, as a dancer in Wild Angels, was here. Emily was too sensitive to forget everything that happened between us. The love we felt for each other was too great to be buried deep into the past.
Leaning on the headboard of my bed, I spent hours staring at my cell phone’s blue light, scrolling through our photos. We had so many great memories together, memories that’d keep my heart warm until its very last beat. I so wanted her to be beside me right now, so I could make her laugh and whisper in her ear how much I loved her. She was my muse, my inspiration. During our time together, I’d written my best songs, inspired by the emotions she elicited in me.
Now I felt empty.
I’d never be able to fill the hole inside me.
In those days, I hit rock bottom. Several times, I came very close to using cocaine again. But whenever I got that urge, Emily’s image would swim up in front of my eyes and stop me. She’d be terribly disappointed in me if she found out about my weakness.
I wanted Emily to be proud of me.
Nothing could alleviate the wrenching pain and emptiness in my heart. Empty beer bottles covered the floor around my bed, but the alcohol didn’t drown my sorrow.
In war, there could only be one victor, but I couldn’t see how good would overcome evil in this battle.
No matter how hard it was, I needed to get it together and move on. But did I have enough strength to succeed?
The prospect of life without Emily was soul-destroying.
I’d reached the limit of my self-control. I couldn’t take it any longer, so I decided to send her a text. Misty had given me her cell phone number in France.
My fingers quickly tapped: I miss you.
I had no idea when she’d read my message but needed her to understand that I never stopped thinking about her.
My heart started racing when I heard the message-received beep.
Emily: I constantly think about you and pray to God every day to keep you safe. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help writing that I love you. I still love you lots, Ryan, and it hurts me so much that we can’t be together.
Closing my eyes, I imagined she was in my arms, with me breathing in the sweet strawberry scent coming from her hair. Her words affected me much more deeply than I’d expected.
I had no idea how long it took me to regain my senses and write back:
I hope one day you’ll forgive me for everything I did to you.
I’d forever taken away her opportunity to meet her father. At the same time, I’d protected her from all the bad stuff he would’ve done to her. But I had no idea if she saw things the same way. Or did she only see her father’s murderer when she pictured my face?
Emily: There’s nothing to forgive. You did what had to be done.
Ryan: I want to see you.
If she agreed, I would’ve immediately jumped on my private jet and flown to France.
Emily: Please don’t say that. You know we can’t.
We can’t, not I don’t want you to!
How could I accept our fate? I was trying, but it was too difficult.
Ryan: I love you. Take care.
Emily: I’ll never stop loving you.
My face was wet with tears I couldn’t hold back. They were streaming down my cheeks to my two-week beard. Personal grooming wasn’t a priority right now.
Since I’d killed my father, I didn’t remember shedding even a single tear, except when I was having nightmares. Only then could I relax and allow myself this weakness. Even when they put my mother behind bars, the shield I’d built to contain my feelings had remained intact. My face had been an emotionless mask, hiding a furious anger at the entire world. It was like Josef had taken my very last drop of pity and empathy to his grave. Or had it simply been the shock of realizing I was a ten-year-old capable of murder?
I heard a noise from the stairs and knew who’d come through the door before it opened. My mother visited me several times, trying to pull me out of the black hole I was in. To no avail.
Her face seemed tired, no doubt from all the worries I’d caused her. She bent down to collect the empties from the floor.
“Don’t bother. The maid will clean everything up tomorrow.”
Susan stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, examining me carefully. There was a long awkward silence until she finally said, “I’m worried about you, Ryan. When you were little, I couldn’t save you from your father. But now you have to let me help you.”
Since she’d moved to Miami, we’d always avoided talking about my father. He was a no-go area, but that had to change. I had too many questions.
“Did you know about Josef’s cheating?”
Susan sighed before replying, “Yes, of course I knew. His clothes often smelled of women’s perfume and the collars of his shirts sometimes had lipstick smudges. But on the rare occasions I mustered up the courage to challenge him, he’d always say it was none of my business.”
The black circles around her eyes betrayed her great fatigue. Whenever she’d come over recently, she’d begged me to stop drinking, but I’d simply tuned her out. I wanted to extinguish the pain, and since coke was out of the question, alcohol was my last resort. Naturally, drinking didn’t help either, but at least I didn’t think of what could’ve been while I was wasted.
I wanted to forget, if only for an instant, the awfulness of my fucking life.
“Why did you marry him?” Knowing the answer was vital.
“When we got married, I was really young, and one makes the most mistakes in their youth. At first, Josef treated me very well, but that didn’t last. After he lost his job, he started drinking heavily. He became so nasty, it was like the devil possessed him. Turned him into the man you knew—a callous sadist.”
Susan had been staring out the window as she’d said those words, but now that she turned to me, I saw the pain on her face. “I’m sorry for everything I did and didn’t do for you. I should’ve done something, asked someone for help. But I was too scared.”
The past couldn’t be changed. It left its ugly wounds, which needed a long time, maybe almost a lifetime, to heal. And even when they did heal, the scars left behind would always remind us what happened.
She moved closer and put her hand on my arm. “Are you sure Josef is Emily’s father?”
I’d asked myself that question a thousand fucking times.
“She believes so, yes. She claims her mother has no reason to lie to her.”
Her delicate fingers gripped mine. “I know you’re in a deep hole right now, and it seems like you’ll never be able to climb out of it. But don’t give up. You can’t lose hope. Hope was the only thing that kept me going all those long years in prison.”
They were only words, but they cut through me like a knife. “Hope…what hope are you talking about? How could I change the fact that Emily is my sister, that we have the same blood flowing through our veins, Josef’s blood? How the fuck can I change that, so I can be with her and make her my wife? You want me to hope for the impossible.”
The more I thought about it, the more intense the pain in my chest became.
The future looked grey and black, because only Emily Delon could bring the bright colors of pure happiness back into my life.
10
Emily
I wiped the tears away with my fingers and stared thr
ough the window at the leaden sky. It had been raining nonstop for two days. Raindrops rolled down the window and the wind howled between the tree branches. The picture outside was gloomy and eerie.
I was in Provence, surrounded by my relatives, people who loved me, but I felt lonelier than ever. I missed Ryan, and the thought that we’d never be together again was burning me inside, slowly and painfully.
My little kitten purred, sitting comfortably on my lap. I stroked its messy fur and it shivered a little. At least Kitty felt better here than in our small apartment in Florida. It had the freedom to roam around, chase sparrows in the yard, and play with the neighbors’ cat.
“Lunch is ready. Please come and eat something. Or if you prefer, I’ll bring the food up to your room.” Grandma stood in the doorway to my childhood bedroom, waiting for my response.
Chantal Delon was an impressive woman with extraordinary strength, enabling her to overcome every difficulty life threw at her. Her hair was almost white, the result of a lifetime of worries and disappointments, but nothing could dampen her spirit. Neither my brother’s diabetes, nor her daughter’s absence and seeming unawareness of our existence.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, my voice coming out as a whisper. Why didn’t I have the strength of my grandmother? I hated myself for making her suffer. But my soul had become a captive to demons from hell, locked by unbreakable chains.
“You have to eat. You already look like a walking skeleton.”
I left the kitten to sleep on the soft duvet and sneaked out of the bed. I approached Chantal, who rushed to hug me. “I know you’re having a really tough time, but you need to try to get over it and move on.”
I hugged her back and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Dressed in an old sweater and worn jeans, Chantal’s appearance was quite different from that of other women her age. She had a slim figure, and if it weren’t for her grey hair, people wouldn’t give her more than fifty. However, lines formed on her beautiful face over the years.
“Forgive me for all the hassle I’m causing you, Grandma.” I was truly sorry. Instead of being happy that we’re together, I was in a deep depression.
“I can’t complain about you, Emily. You’ve always been a great help to me. The difficulties you have to go through are far from insignificant. And I completely understand you’re down in the dumps. It may be a cliché, but know this, time heals all wounds. Eventually, the pain will gradually lessen and pass, or at least you’ll learn to live with it.”
I nodded in agreement and Grandma continued, “You have to take care of yourself and that begins with eating properly. I want you to be healthy. Nothing is more important. I’ve made one of your favorite desserts—apple pie.”
I smiled, comforted by the fact that only people who really loved you would do everything in their power to make you feel better. “I guessed. The delicious smell drifted all the way up to my room.”
We went downstairs. I took a detour to the kitchen to bring a bottle of wine. But the sight of my brother, earphones on his head, jumping in time with some song, made me pause at the entrance.
Fabian was a very good-looking boy. Not because he was my brother, but from a detached, objective perspective. Dressed in low-hanging jeans and a blue T-shirt, he looked very cute. Every morning, he took at least ten minutes gelling up his hair, but the time spent was well worth it, because the end result was stunning. He’d grown a lot in the months we’d been apart and was now almost as tall as me.
Startled by the sight of me, Fabian stopped dancing. Guilt appeared on his face, because he’d been listening to a Blackstone tune.
He pulled the earphones from his ears and mumbled a sorry.
Just because I was no longer with Ryan didn’t mean my brother and my friends had to stop listening to his songs. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“No, it was thoughtless of me. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you. It would’ve been so much better if he was my brother instead. That way, you would’ve been able to marry him and would be happy now.”
His words pierced my body right down to my heart and I barely managed to suppress the tears welling up in my eyes.
Unexpectedly, Fabian came over, hugged me and kissed my cheek. This was a surprise because, as he’d gotten older, my brother started to avoid showing his emotions as much as he could. I sometimes thought my mother was the reason for that. Fabian had stopped mentioning her at all, as if Elise didn’t exist, like she was dead to him.
“Unfortunately, we can’t have everything we wish for. But listen, you don’t need to take down your Blackstone posters on my account or stop listening to their songs. Ryan didn’t leave me. It’s simply these unusual circumstances that prevent us from being together.”
“I know, it’s like you and I being a couple.”
Dammit, that comment finished me off. Still, when Ryan and I had made love, we hadn’t known we were related by blood.
To tear myself away from my dark thoughts, I joked, “When did you become an expert on serious relationships?”
Fabian grinned, and dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I know a thing or two,” he replied ambiguously. As I eyed the apple pie, he rushed to add, “I sneaked a piece earlier. Please don’t tell Grandma.”
“Fabian! You know you shouldn’t eat anything sweet before having an insulin shot first.” My brother refused to hear about using an insulin pump, so he was on injections, but it was much harder with them.
“Don’t be such a pain in the ass. We’re just about to eat.”
I frowned, displeased by the fact he was still tempted by sweet things. Would he ever take his condition seriously?
Guessing my concerns, he added, “Don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine in every respect – diabetes, school. Did I tell you I’m the best on the football team?”
“That’s great. Well done.” I tousled his hair slightly and he pulled away, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Careful with the hair! I’m going out in a bit. On a date.”
“Oh…with the girl you told me about?”
His face still had a child’s features, but his voice had begun to change.
“Of course, who else? Natalie’s mine, and nobody can take her away from me.”
Despondent about my troubles, I’d been drowning in self-pity, and this was the first time in so long I laughed—truly from the heart. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”
Fabian winked at me suggestively.
He winked at me. He’d entered his flirting phase and was practicing on me. My brother shouldn’t be underestimated.
“I listen to a lot of music and watch a lot of movies,” he said casually and put the earphones in his jeans’ pockets.
I leaned back on the wall and crossed my arms. “Don’t you think you should focus on schoolwork instead? You want to go to college, for that you need excellent grades.”
He shrugged and replied, “Don’t worry. I came first in the math competition.”
“And you waited all this time to tell me.” I hugged him tight. “Bro, that’s amazing. I’m proud of you.”
He puffed up his chest, but his rosy cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “I’ll get into any college I want. And then I’ll get a job that pays really well. I’ll have anything I want.”
Alas, money can’t buy your good health.
“Speaking of jobs,” he added and started to laugh hysterically.
“What is it? Have you lost your mind?”
“Natalie’s cousin is interning at a beauty salon. One day, some old guy with a big fat belly came in, asking them to remove the hair on his ass. Now that’s a nasty job.” No matter how exciting girls were for Fabian now, he was still a kid who found such things hilarious.
Nevertheless, my brother’s laughter was infectious and the smile now plastered on my face distracted me from my troubles, even if only for a short while. “People shouldn’t be ashamed of any job. Beauticians remove hair, gynecologists and urologists look at genit
als all day long. What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” he exclaimed, staring at me like I was an alien. “Some fat old guy bends over and says ‘remove my ass hair,’ and you don’t find that nasty?”
“Like I said, there’s no such thing as a shameful job.”
“I’m starting to eat by myself. I can’t wait for you to mess about all day,” Granddad shouted angrily from the dining room.
“We’re coming,” Fabian yelled back.
“Is Granddad sulking all the time because of me?”
My brother glanced at me over his shoulder before picking up the apple pie tray. “Don’t be an idiot. He’s pissed at the whole world. Pay him no mind.”
I was doing my best, but I’d gotten out of the habit of seeing his scowling face. I always got the impression he was displeased by my return.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Fabian.” I didn’t have to turn around to know my grandfather, Jean-Paul, was standing behind me, but I did it anyway.
His dark eyes, which scared me a lot when I was little, were softer now. Peering over his reading glasses perched low on his nose, he added, “Emily, don’t ever think you’re not welcome in this house. I bought it for Fabian and you to be sure you wouldn’t be out on the street when I left this world. And I’m not pissed at you, but Elise. For the life of me, I can’t understand her lack of responsibility as a mother. You need to make her find a way to clear up this whole mess about your biological father. I hope she actually knows the truth herself.”
Why did nobody believe my mother?
While we were living in New York, we had very few good moments together, mostly birthdays and Christmases. At those times, Elise would remember about us and try to act as a proper mother. She’d make an effort to prepare us a nice meal. Not that it worked. She was a terrible cook, but it was enough that she tried.
Those memories were etched deep onto my mind. I hated to admit it, but I still loved her. That’s why I couldn’t accept the possibility that she might’ve lied to me. I had to call her, but it’d been so long since I last contacted her, I was no longer sure if the phone number I had for her was still in service.