Page 137 of Mafia and Gold Digger

But before I can say anything else, I see a whirl of white.

And Emerald’s taking off down the aisle.

Her dress gathered in her hands as she breaks into a sprint.

A chorus of gasps and shocked sounds fills the space.

And I’m vaguely aware of the priest talking to me. But the words don’t register.

My world spins as she turns it upside down and inside out with that one goddamn action.

I run my tongue over my teeth, eyes closed. In. Out. I breathe, trying to calm the inferno trying to overtake me.

My jaw tightens. I can feel the eyes on me. I can feel the questioning stares and whispers as they pound against me. One beat of my heart, then another, and I block it all out.

“Saint?”

Someone grabs my arm, but I yank free. I don’t bother turning to the call of my name as I storm down the aisle.

Ten minutes. All she had to do was wait at most ten minutes.

I drag my hand through my hair as the bitter wind slams into me. I can hear the shout of my name, but I still don’t bother to stop. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her just walk out on me like that.

The door to my car slams shut as I roar the engine with a sharp flick of my wrist and a pump on the pedal. My finger hits the dial button to call Emerald, to make some kind of contact.

But nothing.

“Dammit, Emerald,” I mutter, weaving in and out of the traffic. She got a what, a five or ten-minute head start on me? At this time of day, traffic’s going to be a killer, and my fingers drum against the wheel as I glare out the window.

Of all the stunts to pull. Of all the things to goddamn do.

My teeth grind together. Do I deserve this? Maybe. I haven’t exactly given her a reason to stay. A reason to want me as I am.

My knuckles whiten on the steering wheel, and I let out a slow hiss of breath. I should have known this would come crashing down and that I’d be left scrambling to pick up the pieces, but I did it anyway.What is it about Emerald that makes me so reckless and so…out of control?

I can’t ever be the man she needs. No wonder she ran. Chained to an unfeeling, unemotional bastard like me is a death sentence for anyone. And I’ve been selfish and foolish enough to think she could look past it. That if I just pretended hard enough, it wouldn’t matter.That I could have something I was never meant to have.

A bitter humorless laugh bubbles from me as I pull up at the mansion. I don’t even bother shutting the car door as I stride up the stairs and into the house. “Emerald!”

Nothing.

“Emerald, I swear to God, get out here. Now. We need to talk!”

My chest is laboring, and I feel like a monster. Iama monster. That black pit of unfeeling has swallowed me whole.

I take the stairs two at a time, shoving open the bedroom door. The slam of it against the wall reverberates through the room.

Empty.

Where the hell is she? There’s no way she didn’t beat me here. “Emerald!”

No answer.

My eyes narrow on the closet and dresser. Yanking open the drawers, I scan the contents. Her clothes are still there. I do the same with the closet. Still as it should be.

Whirling on my heel, I scan the room. Nothing out of place. Nothing amiss. My jaw tightens as I storm into the hall. The fact that her things are still here doesn’t mean that she hasn’t run. Lord knows the woman is ready to bounce at a drop of a hat.

My nostrils flare as I pace. I can figure this out. She’s smart, but not when she’s rushed. I just need a clue. A single fucking piece of information to point me in the right direction. I found her that time in that shitty motel, so I know I can find her now.

---