DirtyBeautiful (23 page)

* * * * *

Dylan was vaguely aware of opening the door to his home and
shutting it behind him, the click like a gunshot in the eerie silence within
his soul. He blinked, feeling somewhat befuddled to find himself inside his
house, away from Erica. The ache in his chest expanded to hollow out his
stomach and weaken his knees. Gasping for a breath, he stumbled for his chair
and fell into it.

Every breath he took seemed to whistle in his ears and
accompanied the accusations of the past. He shut his eyes, but all he could see
was the misery in Erica’s face. The betrayal she felt.

“Jesus,” he mumbled and dropped his face in his hands.

A shudder rocked him and desolation opened beneath his feet,
ready to swallow him whole. A warm hand settled on his shoulder and he twisted
around, hoping to find Erica. The hope that bloomed died swiftly at the sight
of Ruby.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Dylan cleared the lump in his throat. “Nothing.”

Ruby shifted around the chair and settled on the lounge, a
frown pulling her delicate brows together. “It doesn’t look like nothing to
me.”

“Ruby, leave it.”

Lips he’d once watched suck his cock pursed. Self-disgust
rose inside him. He didn’t have an ounce of romantic feeling for Ruby and not
more than three months ago he used her like a whore. Damn it. He was everything
Erica thought he was. He was nothing but a prick.

Ruby leaned forward and touched his thigh. “Dylan. What is
up with you?”

“I… I fucked up.”

Ruby leaned closer. “Is it because I’m here? Is that why?”

Dylan shook his head.

“I can go over and talk to her. If this is about me, I can
explain.”

She stood and he grasped her wrist. “Leave it, Rube.
Just…leave it.”

A knock at the door had both their heads jerking in that
direction. His heart thumped once, then raced with barely restrained hope. He
pushed past Ruby and swung the door open. Greg stood on the threshold, arms
crossed and hatred vibrating off his frame.

Rage bubbled to the surface. It burned in his gut with an
intensity that robbed him of breath. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I don’t know what you think to achieve, waltzing into my
town and trying to corrupt Erica. But I’m here to tell you, it ends now.”

Dylan gripped the doorframe so tight his knuckles hurt.
“Where do you get off? This isn’t your town and you don’t own Erica. She can
make her own decisions.”

“And you and I both know what she chose.”

“Get the fuck off my property.”

Greg smirked. “By this time tomorrow everyone in this town
is going to know you for the liar you are.”

Dylan swung a fist and caught Greg in the jaw. For the
second time that day, Greg stumbled backward and fell on his ass. Dylan marched
down the stairs and ducked a wild swing, only to deliver one to the man’s soft
gut. Clutching his belly, Greg tried to straighten.

“I’m giving you another warning. I want you off my property.
I don’t want to see your face here, near me or Erica.”

“You don’t get to dictate to me, you perverted fuck!”

“Dylan, what is going on?”

He glanced over his shoulder at Ruby, who stood pale-faced
on the porch. “Get back inside, Rube. This doesn’t involve you.”

Greg chuckled, the sound malicious. “Well, look who has come
home to roost. You fucking that whore too, Drake?”

Fury blinded him and he threw several blows, ducking some
strikes and taking others. Pain rattled his skull as Greg landed a moneymaker
shot by his temple. Ears ringing, Dylan stumbled back. He blinked at his
wavering vision.

Greg punched him in his gut and Dylan grunted in agony, his
knees buckling. Shit. Struggling for breath, he pressed his fingers into the
soft grass, one knee pressed into the dirt.

“Is that all you got, you fucking piece of shit?”

All of a sudden Ruby was there, her delicate features marked
with anger. “How dare you come into someone’s house and threaten them? Leave
him alone or I’ll call the cops.”

“Do it,” Greg taunted. “I believe prostituting is against
the law.”

Ruby slapped him before Dylan could find his feet. Greg’s
eyes flashed and he raised his own hand. Before he could complete the action,
Dylan tackled him into the ground. Straddling him, Dylan struck mercilessly,
wanting to erase the look of disdain. Wanting to purge the hatred inside. Greg
put up a weak resistance, but he wasn’t a match for the driving force of
Dylan’s rage.

“Stop!”

Dylan looked up at the sound of Erica’s voice. Knuckles
aching, he heaved out a shuddering breath. She stood at the border of their
property, her face pale and filled with disbelief. He pushed off Greg, the
weight of self-recrimination returning tenfold. Greg found his feet also, one
eye swelled shut, his mouth cut and his nose bleeding. He fingered his upper
lip gingerly.

There was a throbbing pain on Dylan’s cheek and he didn’t
doubt for one second he looked like shit. “You ever come near me and the people
I care about again, I won’t be nearly so nice. You think to run to the cops
about this, I have a witness to say you came onto my property and threatened
me. I have my rights and I’ll exercise them. Now
get the fuck off my
property
!”

Greg wandered toward Erica, but she raised her hands to
caution him off. Greg swore then trudged off to his vehicle. The engine revved
before he burned rubber upon his leaving.

Dylan stared at Erica as she hovered in her yard. He
indicated the ground where he and Greg had tussled. “I wish you hadn’t seen
that.”

Erica folded her arms. “You lied to me.”

The agony in his chest surpassed the physical pain. “Yes.”

“You didn’t tell me that Ruby was someone you…you…”

“Why should he?” Ruby inserted.

Dylan held out a hand. “Ruby. Please. Let me handle it.”

Ruby turned on him, eyes flashing with indignation. “Why do
you have to explain yourself to her? She throws you out because you fucked
other people? She doesn’t even deserve to occupy the same air as you!”

Dylan groaned at the hurt and anger that flittered over
Erica’s face.

“I don’t deserve an explanation? Why not? After all, I told
you my secrets. I told you of my fears and you didn’t offer me the same
courtesy.”

Ruby spoke up again. “And when you—”

“Ruby!”

Ruby snapped her mouth shut and glared at Erica before she
stomped back into his house.

“Look, I went about this all wrong. I should’ve told you
what I did for a living. I didn’t think it really mattered,” he said, lying
through his teeth.

“But it does matter. Ruby is here. She’s pregnant and you
might be the father.”

“Ruby told me she thinks it’s most likely someone else. I’m
not the father.”

“But you could be. Until that baby comes out and is DNA
tested, you won’t know with all certainty. Did you have unprotected sex in your
work?”

Dylan’s lips pursed. “Yes.”

Color leached from her face. “We had unprotected sex.”

“But I was clean. We have to have regular checkups. I
wouldn’t ever put you at risk.”

“But you did with Ruby.”

“She worked with me, for Godsake. She knew the risks as much
as I. I didn’t expect her contraceptive to fail. I’m not the father, Erica. I
swear I’m not.”

“I don’t care if she is pregnant or who the father is. I
shared very intimate things about myself with you and I’m only just realizing,
I don’t know you at all.”

“You
do
know me.” Desperation roiled in his gut and
shook his voice. “If you can just see beyond that to what we have—”

“I can’t.”

“Wh-what?”

“I just can’t right now. I need time, Dylan.”

With that she turned around and disappeared into her house,
taking with her the last of his hope.

Chapter Thirteen

Five weeks later

Erica sat at the bar and contemplated her spritzer, her body
separated from the revelry around her. It had been over a month of pure misery
since she’d thrown both Greg and Dylan from her house. Word had spread around
town pretty fast. Women were horrified, while the men who leapt to his defense
were stifled by their partners. Erica despised the glances thrown her way and
the conversations filled with commiseration people seemed to want to draw her
into. The women of the town were morbidly fascinated by it all and failed to
see that two people were hurting.

Although she’d been avoiding Dylan for the last few weeks,
she found herself peeking at him through the windows of her home. He worked
like a demon on his house, the sound of saws and hammer work a constant
drumming beat. On occasion they would stumble upon each other in town and the
whole world would cease to exist. She felt as though they stood separated by a
raging river, both wanting to find a way to each other, but with no way to pass
over.

As though her thoughts conjured him, Dylan wandered into the
bar. The buzz of conversation ceased, and Erica stiffened, drinking in every
angle of his beautifully tragic face. The shadows beneath his eyes told her of
the lack of sleep he suffered. Beneath his tan he appeared a bit wan and Erica
wanted to go to him. But there was too much unsaid between them.

His gaze settled on her, the impact of his need for her felt
clear across the room. His Adam’s apple worked, and a torrent of emotions raced
across his features. Happiness weighed down with misery. Desire stifled by
defeat. Yearning leashed by cold acceptance. Caught up in his stare, she
couldn’t look away and her heart ached for him. She missed him. A wealth of
emotions churned in her stomach, each pulling her in different directions.

Finally he dropped his head, rubbed the back of his neck and
trudged to the table of men he played poker with every Friday. The discomfort
around the table could be cut with a knife. Some threw speaking glances in her
direction, as though she could fix this. But Erica didn’t know how. Didn’t know
if she could.

The men started their game and some patted Dylan on his back,
their words swallowed by the conversations that began around them. Whatever was
said, Dylan didn’t take much gumption from it and instead stared at his cards,
his lips drawn downward in misery. Every few minutes, Dylan would search her
out and stare at her as though to memorize her features. Each time she felt his
regard like a caress and would shudder with a need to be with him. To forget
these weeks had even happened.

Someone eased beside her and she blew out a relieved breath
at the sight of Tammy. “How’re you holding up?” she asked.

Erica shrugged. “No better, no worse.”

Tammy made a sympathetic sound in her throat. “He looks like
a man being dragged through the fires of hell. How long are you going to
torture him?”

Guilt curdled in her gut and she pushed away her drink. “He
isn’t the only one hurting, you know.”

“Then why aren’t you over there making up right now?”

Erica glared at Tammy. “You were the first person I called
about this. You should understand how I feel right now.”

“And most of that was a blubbering mess. Look, from what I
hear about town, he made adult films. I don’t see what the big deal is. You’d
think his mere presence would force women to throw their clothes off the way
some women are acting around here.”

Erica nodded. It grated on her how other women chose to act
self-righteous and appalled given Dylan’s past. If she’d deigned to ask, almost
every woman would claim they knew there was something “not quite right” about
him. That they’d suspected he was some type of deviant set to corrupt innocent
minds. Instead, she bore the townsfolk’s silent disdain and mortified
conversations as her due.

“So you’re going to throw in the towel.”

Was she? The thought made her sick to the stomach. “I don’t
know.”

“All relationships are complicated, Erica. Sure, yours is
unusually so, but the man is dying without you.”

She glanced at him then and his focus was on the game. He
appeared leaner than before. Everything about him screamed utter devastation
and yet he got up every morning. He went to work and ignored it when people
would cross the street to avoid him. He was polite in the face of contempt and
patient when she hadn’t even asked it of him. He waited for her deliberation
and she knew she must make a decision.

“No one is winning here, and you know that,” Tammy murmured.

Erica’s heart hurt and she swallowed back the tears in the
back of the throat. “I know.”

“Then put the man out of his misery. Yes or no, Erica.
That’s all it’ll take.”

* * * * *

Although he didn’t look up, Dylan knew the moment Erica left
the bar. He stared down at his one pair without even seeing it, the soft
cardboard crumbling under his grip.

“Easy there, Dylan. We don’t want you destroying the whole
deck,” said Charlie.

Dylan blinked then eased his grip. “What?”

“It’s your bet.”

“I fold.”

He threw down his cards and leaned back in his chair, swiped
up his beer and took a generous swallow. Anything to dislodge that damn ball at
the back of his throat.

“She’ll come around.”

Dylan didn’t look at who said that, but he appreciated that
his friends didn’t give him the cold shoulder. “I don’t think she will.”

The silence settled on him like an anvil. They might say the
right things, but he knew deep down they didn’t expect this to end well for
him. And he didn’t blame them. He was a fool to think he could escape his past.

“Phfft. If you want her, why not just go after her and tell
her that you’ve had enough of her silent treatment and the matter is settled.”

“Like you do with your woman, Harry?” intoned another.

“Well…yeah.”

“And how’d that work out for you?”

“I was in the doghouse for a few more days,” he grumbled.