Broken
Chapter Five
By Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
Standardf Disclaimers Apply
September 2001
Serena woke up after two hours of the best sleep she had
ever received feeling groggy, but content. When she looked around, she realized
she was on a carpet and not her bed, and that it was completely dark outside.
Almost immediately she realized where she was. Trying unsuccessfully to bring
her wrist up to her face so she could check the time, she jumped when she heard
a deep voice cut in: "It's three a.m."
Her eyes jerked upward from her sitting up position on the
floor to travel more than six feet up to look at his obscure figure. "Oh," was
all she could manage to say with her suddenly dry mouth. In an excuse to get
off the floor and distract herself, she walked over to the mini bar and poured herself
a glass of mineral water. She drank the cool liquid gratefully, her mind
reviewing their passionate scene on the floor two hours ago. Was he angry? She
hoped not. He didn't seem to be when he voiced his request to simply hold her.
In fact, he had sounded surprisingly and amazingly gentle.
When she gathered her courage to take her water back to
the armchair, she breathed in deeply and turned on her foot. She had not so
much as passed Darien's body to sit down on a chair when his hand extracted the
glass, put it down on the coffee table, and led her to couch. She sat down as
far away from him as she could and braved looking up at him inquiringly.
It was easier to remember him banteringly lightly with her
hours ago when they had played card games and laughed. There was only a heady, intoxicating
feeling when she thought of their ardent embrace and fervent kisses.
"Serena," he began gently, taking her hand in his own to
stroke it encouragingly. "Do you remember a dream you had earlier tonight?"
"A dream?" Her voice was stuck her in her throat and she
had a sick feeling of where this was going.
"More of a nightmare, from what I could tell," he said
wryly, smiling compassionately at her.
Oh, God. Not in front of him. She couldn't have dreamed it
in front of him. The nightmares had started two weeks after the initial attack;
each was the same. She would relive it; the entire ordeal and nothing could
wake her up until the entirety of the ugly moment was relived in her mind. Only
then would she open her eyes, her pillows and blankets tossed on the floor in
her battle to once again escape the blows, the beating.
Her mother would often tell her the horror of watching her
go through the nightmare. She would fight as she had done that day, she would
say the words she had said, she would cry as she had then. The entire scene was
terrifying for Irene, watching her daughter scream and cry as if she was possessed.
Serena had been ashamed of them and the way they had made her admit to her
fear. Who was she to want pity from a mother who needed to save it for her
sister? She didn't deserve her mother's efforts of comfort. They should have
all gone to Raye. Raye. Who needed them because it was her who had taken the
worst blow anyone could ever receive.
They had stopped coming so frequently and now only once in
a blue moon would they invade the dark recesses of her mind, forcing her to
experience again the brutality of that day.
Perhaps it was sick retribution. Maybe it was her
punishment for what happened to Raye. Maybe it was fate's way of giving her the
lot she earned when she had let them desecrate her sister's body.
But now, as she stared into Darien's seemingly pitying
eyes, she couldn't believe she had done the whole length of the show and dance,
so to speak, right in front of his shrewd eyes. Mortification filled her as she
tore her eyes away, willing humiliating tears to burn right out of her. She couldn't
cry, not now, not with him right there.
He could tell from her wet eyes that she knew exactly what
he was referring to. And the memory of whatever she had dreamed of was too
painful, even for a strong woman like her. "Want to tell me about it?" He
asked, his voice soft.
"No." It was jagged and breathless.
"I'm here, Serena. If you want to talk to me about
it."
"I—I can't," she whispered achingly and brought a fist
to her mouth to
suppress the sobs that were wracking through her.
He nodded and reached over to rub her shoulder reassuringly.
When she saw the movement out of her peripheral vision, she jerked away from
him, nearly tumbling over the arm rest of the sofa. His face darkened in
concern, but Serena only saw the frown that marred his impeccable features.
"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, forcing herself to calm
down, reassuring herself he would bring no harm to her.
He dismissed it with a shake of his head and got up,
distancing himself from her shaking body. Serena got the distinct impression
that he was hurt by her apparent fright of him. It wasn't him, she wish she could
vocalize her reassurances that it wasn't him personally she was jumpy with, but
she knew that that was impossible. But the notion that he was hurt was absurd;
Darien McDermott, one of the richest and most powerful men
in all of London, could not be pained by one woman's reaction toward him.
She was scared. Of what, Darien
did not know. Deep in his bone, he knew it couldn't have been him. Nobody could
respond with such ardency to his embrace and be afraid of him. Just by glancing
at her bloodless lips, pale face, and trembling figure, anyone could tell
Serena was terrified.
Serena lathered the shampoo into her hair, reveling in the
feeling of cleanliness as a fragrant smell filled the shower. She sighed
contently, opting to forget the dismal events of the previous night/this
morning.
She would have to quit.
Serena bit her lip at the ambivalent feelings that
rose within her as
she realized the decision she had made. She knew this was
best, for her
anyway. But at the same time, she couldn't help but feel as
if this was a
wonderful opportunity she was letting slip, as if this was
her chance at
something wonderful and she was allowing it to drift off…
Shaking the mundanely romantic notions out of her head, she
dressed quickly and hailed a cab over to Darien's house, eager to place her
notice in his hand immediately. When she had left him, he was at the office.
As she pulled up into the expansive driveway, having to
first go through the gates, the massive house was another reminder of just how
well off Darien was. How on earth he could inhabit this gargantuan house all by
himself and the hired help?
She shook her head ruefully and rung the doorbell,
admiring the distorted glass and large framework when the door swung open.
Serena had to look down to see who had allowed her entry and found herself
staring into a pair of blue-green eyes.
Her initial thought was that this seven year old was
Darien's child and that Darien himself was married. But upon calming down, she
realized that Darien didn't have to still be married to have custody of the
adorable child. She cleared her throat and smiled down at the curious little
face.
"Is your father home?" She asked carefully.
"Why would my Daddy be here? He doesn't live here."
The cherub face
looked up at her as if she was galactically stupid, her pink
cheeks moving in the action of chewing a candy bar.
"Oh, I see." Serena blinked and tried again, "Well, is a
Mr. McDermott here?"
Again the tiny face gave her an odd look. "You mean Uncle
Darien?" When Serena nodded, she continued. "He's not here."
"When do you expect him back?"
The girl shrugged, "Dunno."
"Do you mean to tell me you're home by yourself?"
Serena's brow
furrowed in agitation.
The girl looked perturbed at being intimated as a child who
could not possibly take care of herself. "No, Ann's here and Allan is around somewhere."
When Serena gave her a blank look, the child explained,
"Ann's the cook and Allan's our butler."
Serena noticed she said "our" and not "Darien's" butler.
She nodded and asked quietly. "Do you live here with your uncle?"
The child's face grew guarded as she shrugged. "I stay
here a lot when my parents can't take care of me."
"Oh." Serena's heart went out to the poor girl who was
obviously neglected by her own parents. Her heart grew warm when she realized
what a kind thing Darien was doing to shelter the child while her parents were unavailable.
"What's your name?"
"What's your name," the child returned, her chin jutting
out stubbornly.
Serena resisted the temptation to smile. "Serena Corday,"
she said solemnly.
"Christina McDermott," she informed her with mutual
somberness.
"Well, Rina," Serena warmly used an endearment with
the child and saw
with pleasure Rina's face grow warm with a gap-toothed
smile. "If you would be so kind as to give this envelope to your uncle when he
arrives home, I would be greatly indebted."
Rina appraised Serena with a shrewd eye, her keen gaze
traveling the length of the older woman. "Uncle Darien says if you want
something done right, you should do it yourself. Never send someone else to do
a job you yourself should do."
"Well, under normal circumstances I'd be inclined to agree
with him," Serena said smoothly, surprised by the perceptiveness of the small
child.
"Wait!" Rina cried out, somewhat desperately. Serena
turned, surprised by the tone of her voice. "You said something about doing me
a favor."
Serena nodded slowly. "Yes, I did."
"Well, I'll give Uncle Darien the package if you play
DDR with me."
She frowned, "DDR?"
"It's a video game; it'll be fun." Rina had already
snatched Serena' s
slim wrist and was pulling her into the large hallway with
surprising strength for a seven year old.
"I'm afraid I don't really have a knack for such—"
Rina impatiently interrupted. "It's not like most
video games, it's
kinda like dancing. Get it? DDR: Dance Dance Revolution."
They approached a large television screen that was currently gray with a row of
options listed down the right side. On the hardwood floor in front of the
television were two multi-colored pads, each with four arrows on them.
Rina jumped to the center position on one of the pads and
said, "Watch," before starting a fast paced song. Pretty soon, Rina was
following arrows that popped on the screen with her own feet, jumping and
dancing and skipping across the pad to catch all the arrows.
Serena laughed in delight until the energetic girl was
finished. Rina turned to her when the song died down and smiled, her breath
slightly ragged. Grinning broadly with her pink cheeks, she signaled Serena to
come over and join her.
"Oh, no!" Serena laughed. "There is no way I could
possibly do that!"
Rina frowned. "You promised."
Serena sighed and offered a soft smile. "So I did."
She walked over and
slipped off her white sneakers.
Rina eyed them as she neatly placed them by a table. "How do
you keep them so clean?"
"Pardon?"
"Your shoes, how do you keep them so clean?"
"Oh," she laughed. "Well, I suppose I don't wear them
all that much."
Rina eyed her carefully. "How old are you?" She asked
abruptly, titling
her small face to the side, her black ponytail swinging.
Serena nearly laughed out loud at the child's innate
sense of boldness.
"How old are you?" She countered.
"I asked you first."
She couldn't argue with logic like that.
"Twenty-four."
"Seven." Rina whistled. "Wow, you're old." She shook
her head in
dismay. "I'm sorry."
Serena bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling and
nodded, accepting the commiserations. She stepped onto the center of the pad
and waited for the music to begin.
Twenty minutes later had them out of breath and still
dancing like crazy, their twin ponytails flying as the jumped madly to catch
the arrows as they came. The song ended and the jumped up and down, high
fiveing each other gleefully as they received their rather high score.
"You're good at this," Rina said with admiration. Her tone
made it clear she did not think a woman of her old age could keep up.
"Well," Serena said modestly, "I learn from the best." She
adjusted the waistband of her blue jeans and tucked her black tee shirt in.
Rina saw the movement with curious eyes and suddenly
brightened. "I have a belt just like that. I'm gonna put it on, I'll be right
back!" She ran off, bounding up the stairs to her room.
Serena smiled with pleasure as she looked down at her
black belt with a silver buckle. It was poignantly sweet that in such a short
time, Rina had started to look at her as a role model, wanting to emulate her.
She sighed and looked at the television screen. Feeing childish but not caring,
she started up a new song and was dancing to it when she heard a voice droll behind
her.
"Having fun?"
"Oh!" She gasped and nearly lost her footing. She
whipped around,
missing quite a few arrows and effectively dropping her
score down drastically. She faced Darien with pink cheeks and a breathless
voice.
Darien stared at her in wry amusement, taking in her
appearance in jeans. The exertion had made her hair loose and a few short
strands had fallen from her ponytail, framing her flushed face.
"I—well, I—" She started to explain her reason for being
there and playing a child's game, but the words failed her as she finally
closed her mouth and stared back at him.
Luckily, Rina bounced down the stairs, sporting her belt
with pride.
"I'm sorry, Rina. Your uncle, ah, distracted me."
Darien's eyebrow cocked up at the affectionate
nickname and she flushed
deeper.
"Uncle Dar-ien!" Rina whined and pulled a face when Darien
rumpled her hair.
"Sorry, squirt. But I was pretty distracted too."
The words were directed at Rina, but his eyes never
left Serena's. She
blushed at the way he looked her up and down and gave his
approval of her casual attire.
"Oh!" Rina exclaimed, inching toward the counter where she
had left Serena's folder. "Serena came to give you this."
"No!" Serena lunged for it and intercepted its coming to
Darien. She received strange looks from both parties as she clutched it to her
chest.
Darien made no comment on her ludicrous behavior as he
nodded. "I'll drive you."
She was unable to convince him otherwise, so they exited
and took the short walk to his garage. "Rina is a wonderful kid," she said,
desperate for conversation.
"Yes, she is."
"I take it her parents aren't around much," she
persisted, genuinely
curious about the little girl.
Darien's jaw tightened as did his grip on the wheel. "My
brother, Seiya, and his wife seem unable to take care of Christina in between
their infamous fights and equally notorious make up sessions off at some exotic
island."
Serena nodded slowly, compassion swelling up for Rina once
again. "Poor love," she whispered softly, unaware she had even said it aloud
until Darien shot her a grin.
"Do you always get attached to children so easily?"
"No," she admitted. "Rina—Rina's different."
"Yes, she is."
He pulled up to her apartment and parked in the
visitor's space. He
walked her up in silence, but as she was about to say
good-bye and walk in her home, he interrupted. "Have dinner with me tonight."
She parted her lips in shock, "But that's only in a few
hours from now!"
"I would wait until another day, Serena, but you see, I
don't think I can bear it if I don't see you almost immediately." He grinned
boyishly and Serena rolled her eyes.
"What nonsense," she muttered, but a tell tale flush crept
up to her prominent cheekbones.
"I'll pick you up at seven?" He prodded.
Serena looked up into his cerulean eyes and was
thankful he was trying
to put aside the awkward scene
that took place last night for her sake. She smiled, unwittingly causing his
jaw to clench at the effect. "'All right, Darien," she conceded, "Seven it is."
"Darien, take it off!"
"Hold on, I'm trying."
"Well, try harder, I can't wait much longer. I'm dying here."
He gave one more try and then a grunt when he failed yet
again.
"Let me do it!"
"No, I almost got it."
"That's what you said last time."
"Well, this time I mean it." He let out a sigh of
appreciation when he
finally succeeded in his goal. "I told you it would be
beautiful."
Serena let Darien slide the black cloth from her eyes so she
could see the spectacular sight in front of her. She gasped in pleasure and
clasped her hands over her mouth. Right at a vantage point where one could
admire the hues of the sunset and still have enough light to see, was a
checkered tablecloth with a classic picnic basket on it. She turned to him,
surprise written in her features as she let him take her hand and silently lead
her to the spot.
"I don't believe this," she said slowly, turning her head
to look all around her. The spot was on soft sand, in open view of the road,
but all the while the ambiance was one of seclusion. Instead of feeling
immediately on guard at the threat solitude posed, Serena sensed a delicious
wave of excitement and apprehension fill her. She sat cross legged on the cloth
across from Darien as he peered into the basket and pulled out various foods.
"You don't bring fine cheese, caviar, and wine on a
run-of-the-mill picnic, Darien." She reprimanded with mock severity.
"Perhaps I don't want this to be run-of-the-mill."
She gulped and tried to break the inviting spell his
voice created by
spreading the gourmet cheese on a tiny cracker and biting
into it.
He smiled at the light pink tint her cheeks had donned and
began to eat with her, pointing out various sights and colors in the dying
sunset.
An hour later they were lying on their backs, staring up
at the first peeks the stars were making.
"Big Dipper," Serena pointed, her arm swinging up into
the air above
their heads. She let it fall after a moment, waiting for his
next discovery,
He didn't fail her. "Orion's Belt." She tilted her head to
see where he was pointing and smiled at the twinkling group of stars.
"When I was a child, my sister, Raye, once heard my father
and I talking about where Orion's Belt was. The next time my mom took her
shopping, she went into an accessories store and asked if she could buy one."
She felt his chuckled vibrate next to her and giggled as
well. The movement caused her head to shift and accidentally bump with that of Darien's.
"Sorry." She whispered, all traces of humor gone once she realized she was
close enough to smell his faint cologne.
He turned his head to meet her eyes and she gasped when
his lips nearly brushed hers with the movement. She prepared herself to get up
and avoid this entirely too cozy situation, but his warm hand came up to stroke
her smooth check and she was lost.
When the kiss came, it was expected, but a surprise
nonetheless. Darien played with the soft tendrils of her hair while never
breaking contact of their joined mouths. She heard rustling as he shifted from
his back to his side. The position was awkward and they both realized it.
Darien soon remedied that by sitting up and taking her with him. There was no
pause for stilted conversation before his mouth swooped down and picked up
where they had left off not thirty seconds ago.
Serena was heady in the intoxication from his kiss and
when Darien's hands were pulling at the hem of her cable knit sweater, she was
slow to realize the ramifications of such an action. But when she felt the jolt
of his warm hands sliding up her back, alarms bells began to ring. She planted her
hands on his chest and pushed. "No," she said, her voice throaty, clogged with
ardency.
His eyes flicked open at the loss of her embrace and
stared down at her, his icy eyes luminous in the darkness. He watched at she
rearranged her disheveled clothes, run her hands through her tousled hair, and
finally bring her guilty eyes to meet his.
She was worried about his reaction, he knew, whether or
not it would volatile. It was her right to say no, her prerogative. And
something about her made him realize she would never be the type to hand out
her sexual favors anywhere, anytime. In fact, he would go so far as to say a
ring on her left hand and a marital bed were in order before Serena Corday
allowed any man to possess her fully.
The new information just verified the growing realization
that she wasn't his type. Instead of it being a reason to walk away and return
to their employer/employee status, it attracted him further, hopelessly entangling
himself in the mystery that was Serena.
"Are you a virgin?" The inquiry was so blunt and so out of
place in their situation, Serena had to cover her surprise.
Luckily, her quick blush did not reach his eyes. She
injected coolness in her voice as well as a certain lightness, as she replied
in a Southern accent, "Well, you certainly know your sweet talk, don't you,
kind sir?"
He didn't smile as he said grimly, "That isn't an
answer."
She sighed, dismayed that her attempt at humor to ward
him off failed.
"Well, I'm afraid you're not going to get one, Darien. Quite
frankly, I don't believe it to be any of your business."
Darien nodded tersely and began packing up the remnants of
their blissful dinner. She would have thought him to be angry if it weren't for
the light conversation he offered on the way back to the car and her apartment.
He walked her to her door and left without so much as holding her hand.
Perversely, this irritated her beyond belief when all she
should have felt was overwhelming relief. Angry with herself and confused, she
changed out of her jeans and white sweater and flopped onto her bed, sleep
elusive for the next few hours.