Page 117 of Between Now & Heartbreak

He glances out at the room and shoots someone a pained, but conspiratorial smile, like it’s all a joke.

“If you don’t get your hands off me, I’ll have you arrested. And by the time yourmommycomes with the bail money, you’ll meet men who dream ofprincesseswith pretty green eyes and tight glutes,” he mutters through clenched teeth. But his eyes are calm. Assured of his victory.

His calm demeanor is disconcerting. There is a cunning smile on his face like he knows something that no one else does. Unease and dread race up my spine like fire up the wick of a stick of dynamite. I let go of his lapel, but he grabs my wrist and makes a show of dropping his head and smelling my still fisted hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snatch my hand away and scan the room for Beth. The people at our table are watching with avid interest, But otherwise, the party is going on as usual.

His contemptuous laugh reaches me and I turn to find him texting on his phone. His eyes come to mine and they are filled with triumph.

“You should pick your battles more carefully. This is one you can’t win. I’ll give you some free advice. Next time, pick your pawns. Watch them destroy themselves and then, walk away with all the loot.”

“She’s notloot. This isn’t a game.”

In response, he puts his fingers under his nose, and inhales.

He closes his eyes and smiles.

“I knew I recognized that smell on your fingers. I touched that sweet pussy tonight, too. Fucking nice isn’t it? Almost makes up for that thing on her face.”

I see red.

Anger, the likes of which I’ve never known, overtakes whatever shred of self-preservation was holding back the rage that I know is reckless, and that I know I’ll pay for, in more ways than one.

But, those are the last words he says before I punch him in the nose and break it.

37

FINISHED

BETH

The screamsfrom across the room are like a shot across the bow. People start streaming out of the exits and a sickening sense of dread seeps into my bones. I pray I’m wrong as I approach the small crowd that has gathered around whatever spectacle caused the ruckus.

I grab the arm of a woman standing next to me without thinking when I see what’s happening.

Duke is on the floor cradling his nose, blood pours down the front of his shirt and Carter is being restrained by a huge security guard. He’s not struggling, but he’s taking huge swallows of air and his head is bent. There’s a spray of blood on the front of his shirt.

I rush over and stand in the space between them.

“What happened?” I ask, my eyes darting wildly between them. Duke pulls his hand away from his nose and stares unblinkingly at it. It’s like he’s seems paralyzed by the sight of his own blood, Carter lifts his head to look at me, the stone cold fury on his face freezes my blood.

“Carter, what happened?”

“He touched you?” he growls at me, and I recoil from the rage and accusation on his face and take an involuntary step backward.

I don’t have time to think before my father is upon me. All I can think is that he’s about to see Carter.

“Daddy, it’s a misunderstanding, I’m sorry,” I step in front of him and try to shield Carter from his view.

He wraps a hand around my bicep and starts to march toward the exit.

“You don’t know what sorry is. But you will.” His expression is calm, the only sign of darkness waiting to explode is a vein that’s popped up on his forehead.

“What kind of man are you? Touching your own daughter like that?” Carter’s rage filled shout cuts through the loud buzz of a hundred conversations happening at once and my father stops abruptly.

When I start to turn around, he yanks my arm hard and keeps me facing forward. There are shocked gasps and the sounds of a scuffle behind me.

He flicks a glance over his shoulder.

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