Marilyn was still fast-walking and dragging Serenity along as she walked.
“Girl, you are marrying one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen in my life. If it would’ve taken me gluing myself to his body and spending the whole night attached at the hip with him, you can believe I would’ve done it. I wouldn’t miss this day for the world to have him to myself. Even if it meant I had to sleep in the church. I would be front and center and dressed before anyone got in the sanctuary. You know how lucky you are?”
Serenity remained silent. Yes, she did know. She was very lucky indeed. If only she could convince her heart of that.
Fifteen minutes later, everything that had been laying on her heart was all but forgotten as she stood with Nyle at the front of the church under a rose-covered awning, listening to the minister as he recited the importance of marriage, the role of man and wife, and God’s purpose in it all.
Serenity stole a glance over at Nyle and her heart skipped several beats. He was truly a beautiful man and the smile on his face was wide and infectious. His smile and masculine beauty were a flawless work of art that Michelangelo never had the pleasure of crafting. He was as good as gold. He spoiled her, he took care of her, he honored her; he loved her unconditionally. Most important, he’d never cheated on her on like Tristan had.
Serenity stilled and closed her eyes. Tristan. There was that name again. Why wouldn’t he go away? Why couldn’t she keep him out of her heart and mind?
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt it. She felt a pull. A magnetic force around her, practically sucking the air out of the room. Immediately, she became aware of every nerve ending and vibration in her body. And instantly, she knew.
Serenity sucked in a sharp breath, opened her eyes, blinked several times, and haltingly turned her head to the back of the church. Her hands tightly clenched her elaborate wedding bouquet as every muscle in her body weakened. Her knees trembled; her heart thumped wildly in her chest.
“No,” she tearfully whispered, in a voice too soft for anyone to hear.
There he was. Tristan.
SERENITY
You knew he would come… You knew he’d be here… You wanted him to be here… You willed it to happen. You pulled him to you…
My God. Never again in life would she ever see a face so beautiful on a man. Nyle was beautiful, that he was. But Tristan… She had missed that face. Missed waking up to it every morning. It was here. He was here. Now.
Everything around her disappeared. Vanished. She was aware of Nyle standing close to her, of his presence, of the distinct hypnotizing musk of his cologne that she loved… But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the back of that church. She could still make out the faint low murmur of the minister’s voice, but it sounded miles away, like it was in a tunnel somewhere. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Her body was slightly turned towards Nyle but her head and eyes were focused on the striking masculine beauty in the back of the room.
Those eyes. His eyes. They pinned her in place. Sorrow mixed with pain mixed with anxiety mixed with pleasure made her feel weak. Pools of sweat gathered on her back and in the valley of her beasts. Her chest felt constricted; it was almost impossible to breathe. Time stood still. All that mattered, all she was aware of, was him.
This was her wedding day. She was marrying a man who had been nothing but good to her. But all she could concentrate on was the one who’d loved her first. The one who’d wounded her. The one whose eyes were now hungrily scaling her every inch of her from the back of the church.
He looked different. His face was leaner. Gaunt. He had about a week’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. His hair was longer in the front, tapered on the sides and the back. He was thinner. He looked like he hadn’t been eating well or exercised in months. He was wearing a simple black tee and blue jeans and the t-shirt outlined his smaller chest perfectly. He looked delicious. She didn’t know why she thought time would change that. The chest was smaller but still broad. The shoulders were still wide. The mouth still full and kissable. Lickable. And those eyes… His eyes were dark. Brooding. Intense. Dangerous. By his own admission, Tristan was a dangerous man. The world had known him as a fresh-faced, somewhat shy heartthrob, but there was a whole other side of him that the world and his fans didn’t know about. And it was dark.
It would terrify her later when she found out just how dark and dangerous he was but even then it was more of a turn-on than a deterrent. Admittedly, that was one of the things that had instantly attracted her to him. There was an element of danger that seemed to swirl around him and leak from him and it. was. intox-i-cating. That intoxication was pulling her to him now. It was so strong she felt she could levitate in the air and float over to him.
Close your eyes to him. Close them. Turn back to your husband to be. Listen to the minister. Block him out. Block. Him. Out.
As if reading her mind, Nyle put his hand to her arm and gave it a slight squeeze. She audibly gasped and looked up at him, her eyes wide. He’d seen nothing. He was still wearing that perfect grin; his eyes still bright with love and excitement. He squeezed her arm again and mouthed “I love you” to her. Serenity weakly smiled in return and nodded her head, the words stuck in her throat. Nyle turned back to the long-winded minister and softly sighed, still smiling and struggling to be patient as he waited on the Reverend to confirm their matrimony.
Serenity turned back to the minister as well, but her eyes were soon lured back to the rear of the room. He was still looking at her. His eyes were hard as they eyed Nyle’s hand on her arm. Serenity felt faint at the anger she saw in them. The anger held firm until his eyes drifted from Nyle’s hand back up to her eyes and locked before moving them down her custom-made Vera Wang wedding gown. Serenity had purposely chosen a form-fitting gown to show off her shape. It plunged at her breasts and was open at the back, down to the top of her hips. It was all pearls and Victorian Lace.
Nyle’s eyes had lightened with lustful approval when he’d seen her in it as she walked towards him in the church and now Tristan’s eyes were appreciating it as well.
Her mind couldn’t help but drift back to how much he’d loved her curves. How much he’d loved touching her curves. Kissing her curves. Licking her curves. Sometimes for hours. She was in a spiritual place, but her mind soon became ensconced in images of sin. Her mind became cloudy as she thought of them in bed. The hours they would spend making love. The multiple orgasms Tristan seemed to pull out of every orifice of her body so effortlessly. How sometimes the neighbors would come knocking on the door because their lovemaking was always so gregarious and loud.
The memories played nonstop in her mind in rapid succession, from the first meeting on upward. She had been his from the moment his eyes had first met hers. She’d known who he was. She was a fan. She never expected him to notice her and want to spend time with her, let alone make love to her or take her virginity that night. It had all happened so fast. Not long after introducing himself to her, he’d cornered her and stayed close to her, holding her hand and not letting go until they were back at his fancy hotel room.
That hand holding was a prelude to their out of control love-making and subsequent rapid courtship. From the first time she heard him moan in pleasure, she’d been addicted to that sound and did everything in her power to pull it from him every chance she got. She heard it in her dreams at night for years. She still did from time to time.
She remembered how he felt inside of her. How his dick stretched, nudged, and tore at her flesh with its width, girth, and length. She couldn’t get enough of that dick. Or his tongue. The man could eat pussy like he’d invented head himself. He had magic fingers. His kisses were addictive, possessive, endless, and commanding and they always left her breathless. Everything about him had been so perfect. All of her “firsts” were experienced with him. He’d branded her. He possessed every inch of her mind, soul, body, spirit, and heart. She just wished it all could’ve been all hers and hers alone.
Serenity felt her
chest constrict as Tristan’s eyes darkened. His jaw clenched and he bit his lip. His eyes were full of undeniable lust as if he too were remembering their wild nights together...
Serenity shook her head in disbelief and turned away from him. She had to stop. She couldn’t keep doing this. She was getting married. This was all happening too fast. This was too much.
He needed to leave. He needed to leave now. She couldn’t turn back the clock and go backwards. Go back to him. She needed to move forward. She needed to forget.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop looking at him. The exchange of rings and the vows went by in a blur. Tristan stayed back there the whole time, watching. His face was so rigid she was afraid it would split in half. The color all but drained from his face as he watched her marrying and pledging to love, honor, and be faithful to his former best friend.
Her eyes kept drifting back to him in between it all. She and Nyle’s backs weren’t completely to their audience; they were turned slightly to one another. To look at Tristan, all she really had to do was subtlety turn her head to look at him. With each new look, the pain on his face became more and more evident. She tried to ignore it; she couldn’t. She stole glances around the church and wondered why no one else had seen him; why they hadn’t noticed she kept looking behind her, her eyes wide and in shock like she’d seen a ghost. Even Nyle wasn’t catching on. She guessed he was so happy he was stuck in the moment.
She wished she could get there. The energy was draining from her. She just wanted her wedding to end so they could kiss, go to the reception and celebrate. She wanted him to kiss her so hard she forgot. The way she’d been trying to do for the past seven years.
They were nearing the end of the ceremony and Tristan had still gone unnoticed. He was standing under an awning at the back of the church hidden in the shadows but anyone a few feet away would see him if they turned their head or got up to leave. But no one did. Serenity and Tristan got to enjoy their moment of nostalgia and longing in private.
Soon, the minister asked everyone to bow their heads for a moment of prayer. Everyone did but Serenity and Tristan. Their eyes were still trained on each-other, unflinching and focused. While all heads were bowed, Tristan emerged from the shadows and stood boldly at the end of the aisle, his eyes holding hers as he moved. The pain in his eyes had matched new depths. Serenity felt like her heart would rip to shreds at the look in them.
She had 20/20 vision and could make out the tears in his eyes, one pooling in the corner of his right eye for moments, before it slowly fell down his cheeks.
Serenity swallowed a strangled cry and felt her lips beginning to tremble. This was killing him. She could feel it. She wanted to take his pain away. Reassure him.
Go to him. Go to him now. Run away while no one is looking or paying attention. Go! Now!
She didn’t need to know why. She didn’t need an explanation for his sudden exit, his betrayal, his absence. She didn’t need an apology. She didn’t care about what Nyle had told her about him leaving. She just wanted to start over and move forward. She wanted to be in his arms again, feel his body pressed against hers; hear his steady heartbeat.
Serenity moved her foot back one step and saw Tristan’s eyes brighten with hope. She moved to drop her hand from Nyle’s, stealing a glance at him and feeling relieved when she saw his eyes were still closed, listening to the minister’s heartfelt words of prayer.
But then she stopped. And she remembered.
She remembered the unanswered calls. The lonely nights. The loud, earth-shattering arguments. The endless tears. The way her heart sat broken and shattered in her chest for five and a half years, before one day she looked up and saw Nyle in a whole new light. She remembered the first time she had caught Tristan with another woman and how defiant and unapologetic he’d looked when the whorish bitch he was with got up off her knees and wiped her mouth, smirking at her and giggling as Tristan put his slobbered-on dick back in his pants.
Serenity exhaled a long, shuddery breath, steeled herself, and firmly bit her lip, glaring heatedly at Tristan. He looked at her question then recoiled when he saw the fury in her eyes. She was sending him a message that no longer reeked with nostalgia, love, and lust. And he was receiving it loud and clear.
Feeling confident and surer of herself than she had in a long time, Serenity leaned forward and kissed Nyle passionately on the lips, drawing a surprised gasp from him. He opened his eyes and looked at her, heavy emotion toiling inside of those magnetic blue irises she loved so much. She saw certainty in them. Assurance. Unconditional love. She knew what she had to do.
She kissed him again and gave him a tender smile. Tonight, she would make love to this man for the first time and she would work hard to make sure Tristan was no longer a distraction or a thought.
Nyle blushed and smiled back at her. “Is he ever going to finish talking?” he whispered, low enough so no one else could hear but loud enough so that she could.
She giggled and lovingly caressed his cheek with her hand. He twisted his mouth to kiss her hand and grabbed it, staring intently into her eyes.
“I love you,” she mouthed back to him.
He kissed her lips once more then turned away and closed his eyes, continuing to pay his respects to the church and the long-winded minister.
Feeling confident, Serenity turned her head towards the back of the church, hoping her moment of affection had given Tristan the ammunition he needed to leave. But it hadn’t. He was still there. He was still looking at her. He was still angry. He eyes were narrowed menacingly and tightened into slits.
Serenity’s eyes widened and her heart leapt in her chest as Tristan walked to the center of the aisle.
He was holding a gun. And he was pointing it right at her!
TRISTAN
Pull the trigger… Pull the fuckin’ trigger…
Tristan’s hand tightened on the gun as his eyes focused on his intended target: the back of Nyle’s head. He had a clear shot too. All he had to do was pull the trigger one time… And it would all be over.
Beads of sweat lit up the side of head. He could hear himself breathing. Adrenaline raced through him like a rocket. His hand trembled slightly, and he grabbed the side of the gun with his free hand, trying in vain to steady himself. His teeth were clenched together and grinding so hard, he feared they’d pop and shatter in his mouth. He had to remain calm. If he misfired the wrong person could be killed. Even worse, Serenity might get hit. He couldn’t let that happen. He’d turn the gun on himself if he injured her in any way.
This was the only way. It was the only way to keep her from marrying him; to keep her his forever. Nyle didn’t belong to her. Nyle didn’t know her. Nyle could never love her like he could. He tried not to be scared or intimidated by the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison but if that’s what it took to keep her to himself so be it. Nyle had done the ultimate no-no. Nyle had betrayed and hurt him in ways that would hurt Tristan for the rest of his life. Nyle had brought this on himself.
He inhaled and exhaled through his nose and slowly counted down from ten. Serenity was still standing beside Nyle shell-shocked, her eyes wide and full of fear. He could almost mentally hear her begging him not to do what he was thinking about doing. To walk away. He tried not to be distracted by it.
She’s mine. She’s fuckin’ mine. All mine…
The minister was still running off at the mouth and everyone’s heads were still bowed in prayer, completely oblivious to what was going on around them. The timing was perfect. All he had to do was pull. He stole one last look into his former lover’s tormented beautiful eyes, put his finger to the trigger, and…
Tristan was immediately caught off guard as someone grabbed the gun with one hand and grabbed him around the waist with their arm, pinning him in place and stopping him just as he was about to fire the gun. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” the intruder softly chastised him in his ear.
“What the fuck?” Tristan
viciously whispered.
He jumped in surprise and grunted when he was practically lifted off his feet and all but carried out of the church. The intruder pushed him through the doors of the church, almost throwing him to the floor. If he hadn’t caught himself, he would’ve fallen. The gun almost dropped from his hand and he quickly gathered himself and grabbed it, just as the doors of the church swung back closed. He could hear the unanimous chorus of Amens coming from inside just before they closed. The ceremony was almost over. And he hadn’t had the chance to stop it. To kill Nyle. Who the fuck had stopped him?
Tristan struggled to catch his breath and looked up at the intruder who had ruined his plans. “Ricky,” he said in an accusatory tone.
He eyed the flower in the lapel of the fancy tuxedo Ricky was wearing and felt like a weight had dropped in his stomach. “You’re a part of this? You’re a part of this shit? I thought we were friends. I would’ve thought you of all people would’ve told me. Why didn’t you tell me about this, huh?”
Ricky just stood there pitifully looking at his fallen best friend, his sky-blue eyes bright with empathy and concern. “What are you doing man?” he asked Tristan. “What are you doing?” He snatched the gun from Tristan, held it up, and shook his head.
Mine All Mine : Book One Page 3
