Page 64 of Scarred King

“No. They’re in the weapons business.” Liam answers.

Two girls in ridiculous outfits, who look as if they’ve spent far too much time at the plastic surgeon, are standing by the empty chairs at our table. The men stand up until they sit down, and then return to sit in their seats. How strange. This twisted world still has gentlemanly manners.

“Where have you been?” the bleached blonde in the puffy pink dress, similar to the one Carly tried to get me to wear, asks Liam in an offended voice. “You heard that my father bought me a new apartment?”

Liam shakes his head no but smiles at her. My stomach twists with a strange sense of envy but I scold myself immediately and sit up straight again. “You have to come see it,” she lowers her voice and moves her chair closer to his. “We'll party just like we know and used to” she winks, and I stand up. The orders coming from my brain aren’t helping and this nagging feeling is irritating me.

“Where are you going?” Liam stands up beside me.

“To get myself a drink.” I leave the table and walk towards the bar.

I order a glass of wine from the bartender. I can’t stop myself from thinking about that plastic-looking bleached blonde flirting with him. Why the hell does it bother me? After all, I’ve already decided, I don’t want anything to do with him or his dark world. After tonight everything will be over. But the thought of him having sex with that woman, pleasuring her like he pleasured me, making her feel all those amazing feelings… Yes, I must be going crazy. Suddenly Mariano is standing next to me, talking to the bartender. My legs are paralyzed. He turns his head slowly towards me and I feel the blood draining from my body.

“Come dance with me,” I hear Liam’s soft voice behind me, and I quiver. I put my glass down on the bar and let him lead me to the dance floor. The music is soft, and we're surrounded by dozens of dancing couples. He’s still holding my hand. He places his other hand on my hip and pulls me close to him.

“Don’t let them scare you,” he whispers in my ear, and his warm breath makes me shiver again, this time not in fear.

“Can we leave now?” I pull back from him, forcing my brain to send warning signals.

“Not yet,” he pulls me tighter again and I close my eyes and groan in frustration.

“Try and look like you’re enjoying yourself,” his voice has turned cold again.

“I’d need acting lessons for that.” I raise my chin defiantly and he snorts.

“I bet that if I put my hand inside your panties, I’d discover that you’re soaking wet.”

“Only if my tears have reached down there.” I’m angry at myself. How is it possible, that even now, in this situation, I’m wishing for the song not to end so that he'll keep holding me. Suddenly he grabs my chin and kisses me hard. His lips wrap around mine and his warm tongue slips inside. My chest is heaving with excitement, and when he pulls away, I’m panting.

“You’re probably so wet,” he smiles cheerfully, and I look aside, trying to deal with the insult. The song ends and he leads me back to our table. The table is filled with delicious food, but I can’t eat a thing. Everyone around me seems relaxed and happy. I see that Tommy is in deep conversation with the other plastic woman and he is stroking her arm.

“Tommy, where’s Johanna?” I ask irritably and move around the lettuce on my plate.

“How should I know?” he replies indifferently and strokes the girl’s cheek. “She’s probably waiting at the bar for me to bring her some more magic powder.” The girl giggles, and now I feel insulted for Johanna as well as for myself.

“Wow, that powder…” The bleached blonde at Liam’s side gushes. “Ralph, ever since I started sniffing that new stuff you gave me, I feel like a ball of energy.” She shakes her chest and laughs. “Thanks to you, I’m creating a new energy and blasting our pathetic universe.” She continues laughing out loud.

“You’re talking such crap…” I hiss angrily and stab the lettuce with my fork. “There’s no such thing as energy that comes from nowhere. All energy is transformed. It changes, it’s not created, and it doesn’t disappear. The universe has a certain amount of energy and that doesn’t change.” I stop and look up from my plate. Everyone is looking at me silently. The girl’s eyes are widen in shock and I feel so embarrassed as I remember Carly’s warning.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, avoiding Liam’s glare. “I have a tendency to chatter without thinking.” I move my chair back. “You just wanted to describe your feelings, and I offended you.” I finish off my wine in one long gulp and start walking around the table.

“She’s such a weirdo. I didn’t understand a thing!” the girl starts laughing.

“Don’t feel bad,” Mike tells her, “I never understand what she’s talking about.”

“My poor Liam,” I hear the flattering voice of the bleached blonde and look back. She’s leaning towards him and puts her hand on his chest. “You have to listen to all that boring stuff.”

“That girl has more brains in her pinkie finger than you do in your whole body,” I hear Ralph defending me, but I’m too far to hear the rest of the conversation.

I order another glass of wine and the music stops as Mordechai gets on the stage. Everyone is silent.

“Good evening to all our honored guests,” he says into the microphone. “I want to thank you on behalf of Ilan and Sarah and our large family for honoring us today with your presence.” He gestures to the bartender, who hurries over to him with a glass of wine. “I am happy and thrilled to see everyone here.” He points at the tables. “I know that there is tension on the streets,” he smiles for a moment but then grows serious and his voice is firm. “But I am certain that you will choose to respect our seven days of blessings and allow us to celebrate in peace.” The garden is still silent. “Now, let us raise our glasses, le’chaim to the bride and groom.” He raises his glass to the table at the far left. Everyone there raises their glasses and he smiles. He moves on and turns to the second table, the third table and so on, until he reaches Liam’s table. I can see that Ralph is fuming, but everyone raise their glasses. He moves on to the Italian's table. The father is playing with his gold pendant, and it is only after he raises his glass that his sons do as well. “Wonderful,” Mordechai says cheerfully, “and now we can continue the celebration.” The music starts playing again and he leaves the stage.

A guy who looks around my age is standing in front of me, smiling. “You look like you’re really suffering.”

“Am I that obvious?” I ask and lower my head in embarrassment. “I apologize, this is all lovely. I just—”

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs. “I feel like I’m looking in the mirror.”

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