Page 7 of Twisted Hearts

Pay with blood… worse for you… only minor compared to…

“Oh my God.” I gasped. “What have I done?”

Rapid-fire clicking of heels cut through the roaring of my pulse in my ears followed by a voice I swore I recognized, but it came through a tunnel, making hearing anything difficult.

A hand touched my back and I jumped, spun so fast I swayed on my feet, dizzy from the sudden movements.

“Oh shit.” I clasped my hand to my chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”

In front of me was Jillian, dressed to kill in a black dress that looked painted on her, hair wrapped up and tied in a bun behind one of her ears, makeup done to perfection.

And her mouth, painted bright red, made an O shape.

Color drained from her cheeks as she lifted her hands. “Are you okay?” She shook her head and held out her arms. “Of course you’re not. Come here, you.”

I fell into her arms, in part because I could barely hold myself up, and in part because it was Jillian. Goddamn, I was so thankful for her.

“I’m freaking out,” I admitted, squeezing her so tight I was almost fearful of shattering her ribs. “I can’t believe I’m here, and I’m half expecting Daniel to jump out from around a corner and beat the shit out of me. I have no idea what’s going on—”

“Woah. Settle. I can feel your heart racing. Deep breaths, honey, before you pass out.”

Her hand at my back made large, slow, sweeping gestures, and I closed my eyes, tried to do what she said, and fell into the rhythm she set at my back.

“Thank you,” I finally rasped once my heart had slowed to manageable levels. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course.” She gave me a firm squeeze and pulled back. She smiled her beautiful smile and tilted her head to the side. “Are you okay now? Klaus is on his way and can help with your bags.” She peered into the back of my SUV, and her eyes crinkled. “Target, really? You’re running away from your wedding and you stop at Target?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I went the other day and picked up some things. Everything else I had was either packed for our honeymoon or already moved to Daniel’s.”

“Somethings?” she asked, brows rising.

Thank God for Jillian finding the humor in this day.

I shrugged. “It’s Target.”

Which really said it all.

* * *

“You didn’t needto do this,” I said, turning to face Jillian behind me. Klaus, her fiancé, was dressed in a sharp-looking black tuxedo right behind her. Six of my Target bags hung from his wrists, and my duffel was slung over his shoulder.

We had just stepped foot into a hotel room two doors down from theirs. They’d gotten me my own room.

I was eternally grateful and glanced at the bed with longing. Apparently a minor freak-out, running from my wedding, and driving for four hours took a lot out of me.

“It’s not a problem, and the room is in our name. I figured that would be better.”

“You’re both amazing,” I said, exhaustion weighing down my words.

“I know. I’m incredible.” Jillian grinned and went to the dresser on one wall. She bent down and opened the fridge door, where there were two bottles of white wine. “Good—they already stocked your fridge, too.” She stood, grinned at me, and went to the closet. Opening the door, she reached in and came back with a silver dress in a similar cut to hers draped over her arm, the hanger held in her other hand. “And…if you change your mind, this is the dress you can wear. Nothing really starts for a couple hours yet. We’ll have dinner first. There’s also a restaurant downstairs or room service. The fun stuff—drinks and hanging out—will be later.”

I couldn’t help but think had I stayed in Charleston, I’d be preparing to do all those exact same things with Daniel and hundreds of people I didn’t care about watching.

Except my mom. I flinched at the thought of her, what it cost her to let me to go—to encourage me to do so. “I don’t think I’m up for that kind of event tonight.”

“I figured, but if you change your mind or don’t want to be alone, you can come down.” Her smile vanished and she gave me a hug. “If I could sit with you tonight and be with you, I would. You know that, right?”

“Of course. I just don’t think being down there would be smart, either. I need to start figuring everything else out.” If only I had experience doing something productive. I shook the thought away and gestured for the bed. “Honestly, I might just crash. This week and today have been a lot.”

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