Beautiful Broken (University of Branton) Read online

  Beautiful Broken

  Nazarea Andrews

  A University of Branton Novel

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction including brands or products.

  Copyright © 2013 by Nazarea Andrews.

  BEAUTIFUL BROKEN by Nazarea Andrews

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by A&A Literary.

  Summary: When Dane Guillot lets his best friend’s sister move in when she’s released from rehab, both of them struggle to let go of the past.

  ISBN 978-0-98947799-1-2

  1. New Adult. 2. Romance. 3. Contemporary Romance.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, address

  A&A Literary, 14207 Ridge Court, Upatoi Ga, 31829

  www.nazareaandrews.com

  Edited by Rachel Bateman, Metamorphosis Books

  Cover design by Melissa Stevens, The Illustrated Author

  Cover art copyright©: Nazarea Andrews

  Ebook Formatting by Ink in Motion

  Paperback Formatting by Caitlin Greer

  Books by Nazarea Andrews

  After the Fall:

  Edge of the Falls

  Chasing the Wind (March 2014)

  University of Branton:

  This Love

  Beautiful Broken

  Perfect Ruin (February 2014)

  World Without End:

  The World Without a Future (December 2013)

  For all the broken lovers,

  And lovers of broken things.

  Beautiful Broken

  Nazarea Andrews

  A University of Branton Novel

  Then

  It's dark in his dorm room. He pauses as he enters, his gaze sweeping the other bed. It's notably empty. Atticus must be with Nik. And Scout....he shakes his head, trying to dislodge the name.

  The blanket on his bed shifts and she sits up.

  Fuck. He's too drunk for this tonight. He isn't ready to deal with fifteen-year-old Scout, with her too big eyes and a body that is finally beginning to look like a woman's and not the skinned-kneed little girl he'd dealt with his entire life.

  "Scout, what are you doing here?" He sighs, toeing off his shoes.

  A soft noise, half a sob, jerks his attention up, and he looks at her again, studying her intently. Her eyes are big and scared, her shoulder bare, and he can see red marks on her pale skin. Her dark hair is a tangled mess—the way a girl's hair looks after he's screwed her.

  Fury fills him, and he stalks over to the bed, jerking the blanket back and pulling Scout from it. She fights him, her shriek filling the room. "Let me go, let me go!!"

  Stunned, Dane releases her, and she falls to the floor, curling into herself and sobbing. He drops down next to her and touches her, gently, on the shoulder. She shudders, pulling away. "Scout, your scaring me," he says, his voice cracking. "Tell me what to do. What's wrong?" Masculine voices drift in from the hallway, and she scrambles backward, away from the door. Dread fills him.

  No. Not to Scout.

  "What happened?" he asks, his voice icy.

  "Don't," she whimpers. "It's over and—don't leave me here alone."

  The words are a punch to the gut. She was here, alone. He'd been out with some of the frat brothers, drinking and hooking up. She'd been alone—because who the hell was going to keep her from coming to UB? Atticus was too wrapped up in Nik to even notice that Scout slept in his bed more often than she didn't.

  He should have been here.

  "What do you want me to do?" he asks, sitting back on his heels. Not touching her.

  "I just...I want to go to sleep. I want to forget it ever happened."

  And because he’s the biggest coward in the world, he nods. He stands, pulling her up with him. Tucks her into his bed, covering her with his blanket, and when that doesn't ease the shaking that's wracking her entire body, he pulls the one from Atti's bed and covers her with that, too.

  They both smell like men—cologne and sweat. But it's his scent, and her brother's, and it doesn't seem to bother her much.

  When he starts to retreat to his desk, she makes a squeaky noise of protest.

  "Don't go." she says, not looking at him.

  He can't climb in bed with her. Not right now—not ever. It's a thousand different kinds of wrong. But she's Scout, and she's broken and asking him to stay.

  So he does.

  Chapter 1

  October

  Dane

  She gets out today.

  I'm not sure how I should feel about it. My threat—which I meant—forced her into here. It’s been almost three months. I scrub a hand over my hair and curse. Rehab has never worked for Scout. She rebels at being told what to do—probably why she got involved in drugs to begin with.

  Okay, that's bullshit. I know exactly why she got involved in drugs. It doesn't make it easier to accept.

  My phone rings, and I fish it from my pocket. Atticus. "What's up, man? Bears eat you yet?"

  "I'm in Branton, you idiot," he grumbles. "Traffic was hell coming back. Do you have her?"

  "No. Pickup is in ten minutes. Quit worrying—I'll handle the kid."

  Atticus laughs. "Last time you tried to handle my sister, she handed you your balls on a platter."

  "And yet," I say, lazily, "I'm here, and you’re hiding in Branton."

  He laughs again, like he's supposed to. Because there are some things I’ve never told him, and why Scout trusts me is one of them. I half listen to him talking—he’s stopping by his apartment for Avery and a shower. "I’ll take her back to my place," I say before he can suggest otherwise. I’m scanning the other people waiting to pickup their patients. It’s weird, being here, waiting for her like this. Most of them are clearly parents, but one bothers me. I study him—dirty jeans, too thin, smoking a cigarette, smirking.

  There's noise from the building and I glance up—it looks like they’re bringing out the patients. "Gotta go, Atti. I'll call when we're on the road."

  The doors swing open and she strolls out.

  It's like seeing a ghost. This isn't the Scout I've known for the past six years. The skinny, angry, strung out woman-child that has shown up on my doorstep time and time again—she's missing. In her place is a gorgeous young woman, with soft curves, long black hair perfect for sliding my fingers through. Rehab has been good to her—it’s washed away the last remnants of childhood, and exposed the woman.

  And that scares the shit out of me.

  She sees me and waves, then turns and hugs the guy next to her—something that annoys me for reasons I don't really want to think about. Takes the bag he's holding and descends the steps to stand in front of me.

  "Scout, baby." I freeze as the guy I’d been eyeing steps up. Between me and her. I can hear the oily smile in his voice. I go still, watching as the dealer—her dealer—sweeps her into a smothering hug. "You’ve been away too long, baby."

  Everything in me is demanding that I step in, that I separate her from him. She’s not ready to face this yet. I’m not ready for her to face it. I’m shaking, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

  "Didn’t think you meant it," she says, pulling away.


  "I said I’d be here—here I am. The only one who cared enough to show up for you."

  I clear my throat, and her head lifts, clear green eyes finding me. She knew I was here the whole time. I stand in silence, and she smirks.

  "Why are you here instead of Atti?"

  No Hi. How are you. Thanks for coming to get me, and for dealing with my shit for the past six years, and oh, by the way, it's not your fault.

  I shove the thoughts down and straighten. "He was busy. I can let you wait for him if it's important to you, though."

  She snorts. "Asshat."

  I give her a quick grin, ignoring her dealer completely as I take her bag, tossing it in the back of the Viper and stalking around to my side. "Come on. I want to get back home before it gets too late."

  She hesitates—not for long, but long enough that my breath catches and I go still, watching. Then she shrugs apologetically at the dealer and slides into the car.

  I look at him, at the anger in his eyes, and let a slow, lazy smile slide across my face. And then I join her.

  Scout

  It shouldn't surprise me that Dane is here. But it does—I wanted Atticus to pick me up. I wanted a little time before facing Dane.

  Not that time will do anything. It hasn't ever done anything. I sorta hate that he saw that—Kevin, attempting to pick me up. Dane knows dealers, he spotted mine before I even left the building. I’m doing a bang up job at keeping sober.

  "Seat belt."

  "Really? Cuz I'm not fourteen anymore, you know."

  "I'm an accident lawyer, Scout. Put on the damn seat belt."

  I roll my eyes, but I do what I'm told. If I don't, we'll sit in this bloody parking lot all night, and I've had quite enough of New Horizons for, like, ever.

  As Dane pulls out of the driveway and we leave the center behind, I release the breath I'm holding, tension slipping from me. I didn't really think the relief would be this acute. But it is—getting away from there is almost as much of a high as coke had been.

  My fingers go to my wrist, snapping the rubber band there. Aversion therapy. It's supposed to help with the cravings. Sometimes it does. Not often, but sometimes.

  Other times it’s just annoying. I snap it again, and Dane's gray eyes track the motion. It makes me self-conscious. And if there is anyone I shouldn't be self-conscious about, it's Dane.

  "What's been happening the past few months?" I ask, twisting to pull my leg under me as I face him. Willing to talk about anything but my time in rehab or Keith’s blatant attempt to bring me back into the dealing world.

  Worry flits across his face briefly. "You shouldn't worry about that right now. You need to focus on staying clean."

  Anger fills me, followed by embarrassment. "Don't do that," I snap. "I'm not an invalid. You've never coddled me, don't start now."

  His lips tighten. "Maybe I should have."

  "It wouldn't have changed anything," I say. It's the closest I've ever come to addressing that night—the night that everything changed between us. That changed everything for me.

  For both of us, if I'm being honest.

  The doctors at New Horizons had wanted me to go somewhere safe—somewhere where nothing would remind me of the reasons I started using. They wanted me find a place to heal. I watch Dane drive and wonder if they realize how complicated that can be.

  "Atti's been out of town," he says, and I jerk a little, looking at him. "He got a cabin in the middle of nowhere to hide in while he finishes his book."

  "But the semester..."

  "Randall gave him a sabbatical. For the rest of the semester."

  I can't quite wrap my head around that—my brother loves teaching, and to leave voluntarily isn't like him.

  "Scout, things have changed a lot while you were away."

  "Is that what we're calling it?" I ask, making a face. Dane's lips twitch, a hint of a smile. "Just tell me."

  He glances at me again, hesitating. And then he does.

  Dane

  The thing about Scout is that you can never really predict how she'll react. Hearing that her brother was divorcing the woman who had been part of our lives for so long, and risking his career for a girl that Scout doesn’t know—even under the best circumstances, Scout would struggle with that.

  "He's serious about her?"

  I nod, shifting gears. "Yeah. If it helps at all, I think she cares about him. She isn't another Nik."

  "That doesn't help, actually," she says, glancing out the window. Her fingers are snapping that band around her wrist again, the tattooed skin red.

  Without thinking, I reach for her hand and pull it to my lap.

  Surprise makes her stiff, her breath catching in her throat. Shit. I should have probably thought that one out. But too late now to do anything but play it off as nothing.

  "What's your plan now?" I ask.

  Her fingers, on my thigh, twitch. "Get a job? I can’t go to Branton, not until next semester at the earliest, and it’d be good to have something to distract me until then."

  "Have you thought about where you'll stay?" I ask.

  I can't believe she'd want to go to the dorms. After that night, I'd pushed to get an apartment— we took a financial hit moving out mid-semester, but that didn't bother me. Getting Scout out of that dangerous environment was the only thing that could matter.

  "I'll stay with Atti. Or get an apartment."

  Stay with me. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow hard. What the hell am I thinking? This is Scout, not one of the idiots at the club, or Melanie. She's my best friend's sister, and I need to get a grip before I scare her.

  "Avery spends a lot of time at Atti's place, but we can get you set up somewhere," I say nonchalantly. She wilts in her seat, and pulls her hand from my leg, curling deeper into her seat. She's not going to like this but it has to be said. "And a group meeting. I'll go with you, if you want."

  "I don't need that, Dane," she says, her voice dangerous.

  "You don't want it. And I get that. But you've been clean about five minutes. A little help can't hurt you."

  She twists to stare at me, her expression fierce and tragic. "You know it won't stick, don't you? That's why Atti isn't here—because this is just a waste of everyone's time. It's only a matter of time before I relapse."

  "Scout, no one gets to decide that but you. It's your sobriety—you decide if it's something you want or if the high is worth everything you've gone through the past six years."

  Tears fill her big green eyes, and I look back at the road. "If you want sobriety, I can help you. I want to help you."

  "And if I don't? If it's too much? My dealer just tried to pick me up from rehab, Dane. What about that screams sobriety?"

  There isn't a safe answer for that. If I threaten, she could lash out just to see if I'll stand by my threats. If I'm too soft, she'll never believe it. So I settle for a noncommittal shrug and keep on driving.

  Chapter 2

  Scout

  I love Branton. It's weird, because so much happened here—shit I can't undo or take back. The whole city is covered in memories—the little salon where Nik and I would go to get our nails done before her dates with Atti. The ice cream shop Dane and I went to every weekend and shared a ginormous ice cream sundae before he cleaned the Viper. The biking trail Dad and I used to wander. The university pool where Lou and I would work on our tans and watch the college boys swim.

  The whole city that became our backyard during the summers. And despite the fact that there are bad memories—ones I can't bear to think about—there are so many good memories that I can't help the little surge of excitement as Dane drives through the streets.

  "The Pumpkin festival is coming up," I say, craning my head back to read the sign as we pass Main Street.

  "Yup. The whole fucking place will smell like rotted pumpkins in a few days. And we'll have to worry about the damn gators coming up to investigate."

  I snort. "This used to be your favorite festival," I say.


  Dane glances at me, faintly amused. "I used to be twelve."

  He takes a left off of Main Street, headed away from the hub of the city, away from the college and the memories that come with it. It's not possible to forget everything, but Dane's house is a safe place. It's always been a safe haven. Does he realize that?

  Atticus' truck is in the driveway when Dane eases the Viper in. He kills the engine and I sit there. I feel stuck—part of me wants to dash in and throw myself at my brother, cry and explain everything that has been chasing me for the past half dozen years. Another part is so terrified I can't move. My nerves are stretched tight, and I wish—not for the first time—for a smoke. Anything, even a cigarette, will take the edge off the fear cresting in my chest. Stealing the air from me

  Dane shakes my knee, breaking me from my thoughts. "He doesn't bite. He's here for you. Remember?"

  I nod, a jerky, almost hysterical motion, and I see the concern in his eyes for a split second before it's shuttered off.

  "Do you need him to go?"

  "No," I croak, and he hesitates for a heartbeat, giving me a chance to change my mind. When I don't, he shoves the door open and steps out of the car into the sunlight.

  Dane

  I follow her up the walkway. She seems to have left her fear in the car, and she walks with the cocky sway I know in her—a bluster as much as my asshole attitude in the clubs. I don't call her on it. Let her take whatever she needs to get through this first reunion.

  Atticus is waiting in the living room, Avery curled against his side, her blonde hair messy. I hope they didn't screw on my couch—she has a freshly fucked look about her that annoys me.

  "Hey, Atti," Scout says awkwardly, stopping abruptly. I almost smack into her, brushing against her as I swerve toward the kitchen.