Page 87 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

“Get the hell out of here,” he tells me angrily.

“Caleb!” Jamie Hendrickson shoots to his feet, but I don’t turn my attention from Lauren for a split second. I lunge up the steps two at a time, and there she is. Lauren is right there in an ugly contraption of what looks like tablecloths.

“Are those shoulder pads?” I mumble it, doing a double-take, and her mouth drops open. To laugh? To protest? To exclaim her thanks that I’m here? I don’t know, but she winces, warning me Jeremy isn’t too happy about being ignored.

He growls and fists his hands. I wouldn’t be shocked if he stomps his foot and completes this tantrum like a child.

“I said, get the hell out—”

I rear back with ease and punch him. My solid left hook is wicked, sending the jerk fumbling back and knocking over a small table. He’s on his ass, cradling his jaw. “You—You—” He blinks, then wails. “You broke my jaw!”

I ignore him, facing Lauren and finally drawing in a deep breath. The first in a long time since she left me, as a matter of fact. At once, I’m whole. So long as she’s within reach, dazzling me with her presence, everything will be all right.

Blinking fast, she raises her brows. She’s coming out of that trance. She’s here. She’ll come back to life after this shocker of a lifetime. Before she can reclaim her ability to speak, I hook my arm around her and haul her over my shoulder like she’s a sack of potatoes. Or not. She’s lighter than I remember. Was she not eating from the stress? It kills me to think of her in pain.

She squeals in surprise. There we go. She’s vocal. But she doesn’t protest as I carry her down the steps of that altar.

I hoist her higher, and I catch a slip of her giggles as she grabs my back pockets. I huff my breath, trying to get the pesky scrap of lace sashes—or whatever the hell they are—out of my eyes. I bat the fabric down to see her parents. Pausing, I grin at them madly.

Jamie’s beet-red, his lips twitching as he clamps them in a tight, thin line of rage. A vein bulges near his temple as he positively shakes with his temper nearly exploding. His wife gapes at me, scarlet as well. Then she claps her mouth shut and looks around, furrowing her brow. At least I think she is. She must have a loyalty rewards account racking up points for all the Botox freezing her face. In her eyes, though, I see the shame and fury.

“I’ll be taking this,” I tell them with a wink.

Then I turn and leave. Behind us, Jeremy is crying. Wailing, really, about his broken jaw. Threats of suing me follow, then he falls to cursing that I “ruined his face.” Not a word slips out about Lauren until I’m almost at the end of the aisle.

The second he latches on to badmouthing her, claiming she’s a slut and a whore and so many other lies, I stop short.

No one speaks. I don’t think anyone dares to move as I turn. Lauren swings over my shoulder and I tilt my head to the side, eyeing him carefully.

If he says one more word…

“She’s a trashy—”

I step forward, to return and “break” more bones, but he scoots onto his hands and knees, then crawls, tripping until he gets on his feet and runs.

That’s more like it.

I borrow the ass’s words as I tell Lauren, “You’ll never see him again.”

I don’t know if she hears me, and dammit, I bet all her blood is rushing uncomfortably, upside down like this. Everyone is too shocked to say a thing or reply. In the distance, a guest whistles and whoops. “Hell yeah, daddy!”

I shake my head, amused, but I don’t intend to linger. We’re out of here.

Picking up my pace, I hurry out of the wedding setup and through the building where she must have gotten ready. Once I hurry out the doors and reach the parking lot, I see Dalton blocking a couple of security guards, shaking his head and doing his best to secure a getaway.

I scan the rows and rows of cars. They all look the same, but I asked that one bridesmaid to pull it up close. When security stopped us, Dalton got out to handle the guards while I ran inside to reach the wedding. Finding a tearful bridesmaid out front was unexpected. Her recognizing me was even more of a surprise.

“Are you Dalton?” she asked. “The stranger who messaged me from Facebook, asking to stall the wedding?”

I frowned. So that was what my buddy was doing, going on social media, and trying to reach someone in the wedding party. Smart guy.

I shook my head.

Her eyes went wide. She snapped and pointed. “You’re Caleb?”

“Where is she?”

“Go!” She pointed at the doors. “In the vineyard. Go through here.” Another guard approached, and she nodded at me. “I’ll keep this one back.”

---