Page 32 of Dirty
Fuck.
The sense of gratification that had been welling up inside of me vanished. I couldn’t do it to her. “You don’t need to worry about me,” I said. The vein in my temple was pounding like a demented drum. “Sera’s baggage is nothing compared tomine. And besides. I work out. I’m perfectly capable of carrying whatever pain and heartbreak she’s been throughforher. Not that I need to, of course. Sera’s a wildfire. A lot of guys aren’t capable of caring for a woman who’s been brave enough to fight her way through dark times. Don’t worry. I get it. Their strength can be intimidating.”
Gareth’s mouth was yawning open, moments away from spewing out even more bullshit. A right hook would have been impeccably timed right now, but instead I turned around and walked away. I knew exactly what I was doing; men like Gareth were used to being listened to. They believed everything they said and did was of great import to others. For someone to belittle them, cut them off, turn their back on them and walk away? That was fucking crushing to a puffed up, egotistical degenerate like him.
As I casually strolled out of the lobby, I grabbed a bellboy by the arm, jerking my head back over my shoulder in Gareth’s direction. “Hey, that blond guy over there with the redhead? What’s he driving? Tell me and this is yours.” I showed him the hundred-dollar bill I’d taken out of my pocket.
The bellboy squinted at Gareth, then back at the hundred-dollar bill again. “The red Lamborghini out back. The brand new one with the black leather interior.”
“I’ll give you another hundred if you loan me the keys for ten minutes.”
“Why? You’re not going to do anything bad to it, are you?”
“Oh, god, no. I’d never do damage someone’s ride. I just have a gift for him is all.”
By the time I was done pissing in the front seat of Gareth’s stupidly ostentatious vehicle, the pounding in my temples had eased. I wasn’t done with that motherfucker, though. Not even close to done. My boots bit into the gravel on the way back across the parking lot. Fuck it. I wasn’t going to bother finding a suit for this ludicrous event. I’d skip the ceremony, and then hang out at the reception once the photos were out of the way. And once night fell and ever—
“Father? Father Marcosa?”
My boots stopped. My heart stopped. The world stopped.
Who?
Who would know to call me that out here, in the middle of nowhere? The chances were non-existent. My mind went blank as I turned around…and looked into the face of a man I never thought I would see again.
FIFTEEN
INTERFERENCE
SERA
Amy was crying, make up streaming down her face when I entered the beautifully lit, luxurious reception room where I was supposed to be having my makeup and hair done. She looked up, blinking like crazy through her tears, and let out a loud, heartbroken sob when she recognized me.
“Sera, oh god…”
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I was used to Amy’s fits of hysterics, but her temper tantrums were typically accompanied by screaming and breakable objects being thrown. Today, she was curled in on herself, shoulders rounded, the strap of the nude slip she was wearing falling off her right shoulder. She looked like a broken little girl, like she was physically hurt in some way, and my heart rose up into my throat. She hiccupped as she buried her face in her hands, hiding herself away.
“God, I didn’t know, I swear,” she moaned.
I crouched down in front of her, trying to gently prize her hands away from her face. “Didn’t know what?”
“This—this is such—a mess,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this now. I just want to go home.”
“You don’t want to get married?” If she really didn’t want to tie the knot today, I’d help her plot a plan of escape out of the hotel without a second thought, but Jesus…After everything I’d been through in order to get here, I had to fight down the urge to slap her.
“No, of course I want to get married. I love Ben. But…”
“But?”
I managed to peel back one of her hands. She allowed the other to fall, revealing bloodshot eyes and smudged lipstick. She was a mess, but I did everything I could to keep my dismay from showing. That wouldn’t help at all. Pulling in a deep breath, she picked at a hanging thread on the hem of her slip, her fingers tugging at it nervously.
“They thought they were doing the right thing, Sera. I swear. They would never have invited him if they knew…”
“Amy, take a deep breath. I can barely understand a word you’re saying. Start from the beginning. Who thought they were doing the right thing? Who did they invite?”
The second Amy exhaled, shivering from cold, and then looked up at me, a sinking, dreadful weight pulled at my insides. No… no, god, no one would have invitedhimhere. They wouldn’t be that cruel. Amy wasn’t shaking from the cold; she was shaking fromfear. My hands dropped to my sides. Strangely, I couldn’t feel my body anymore. I was numb from the hairline down. The only way I knew my heart was racing out of control was because of the dizziness that had washed over me.
“Who invited him?” I asked breathlessly.
