Amusement flooded me. He was fucking done with this situation, and I didn’t have to see anything except the fact that his arms were crossed over his chest like he was waiting in line to get a flu shot rather than attend my wedding.
I’d always been preoccupied with Zeke, the few times in life I’d been allowed to be around him. In their partnership, my father was the trader and Zeke the salesman. He made the deals that let my father do any trading that made them all money. Or at least, that was how it used to work when they’d been amassing their millions. These days, it changed. Something about the fund of funds they were doing now. I didn’t really understand much of it, but it seemed there was less for my father to do and a lot more for Zeke to pay attention to.
Dad was always yelling at Zeke, and if the noises I could hear from the phone at the dinners I was forced to attend were any indication, Zeke was always yelling back. They didn’t see each other in person and did business mostly remotely with the occasional bitter argument spoken through their cell phones. It was volatile between them. And something about what I was doing today was going to help my father in that situation with Zeke. High finance was like a foreign language to me, and I hadn’t asked any questions because it wasn’t like I could understand it if I did. I wasn’t Hope or Bridget. No one talked to me about real things that mattered.
My heart rate picked up. Zeke was gorgeous in a way that other men just were not. He was four years younger than my dad. Thirty-eight. Dad aged, but Zeke didn’t ever seem to. He was somehow more virile than he’d ever been before in that moment as I walked down the aisle. I couldn’t even believe he was here. He never came to anything he didn’t have to when it came to us. Not birthdays or graduations. He sent checks and someone deposited them for us.
But Kit and I were getting married in Paris, and he lived here. I guessed he didn’t have any choice but to attend. How could he get out of being here at my terribly boring wedding when he’d rather be anywhere else?
Movement caught my attention toward the front. Kit was there. He didn’t look bored. No, he was sweating, and his hands were shaking. That wasn’t nerves. He was coming down from something he’d taken. We were getting married while he was withdrawing. Was I just…fine with that?
When had I become okay with everything being so mediocre?
“No.”
The music was loud, too loud. I hated it. Who had picked this song? I didn’t want to get married to some traditional bridal march like I was just another marching bridal doll scooting down the happy married walk so we could get on with things.
My father stared at me. We were almost to Kit. Everyone was smiling. Some woman on his side dabbed at her eyes. Why were they crying? Because it was so beautiful, or because they felt so sorry for the two of us since there wasn’t an ounce of bravery in either of our bodies?
I hated Kit, but I’d spare him this. I’d do this for the both of us.
I yanked my arm from my father’s hold. “No. I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Daddy, I just can’t.”
I must have shouted because despite the timbre of the music blaring like it wanted to bring down the Eiffel Tower, I made myself heard. There were gasps and people started yelling.
“Layla.” My father spoke through clenched teeth. “You can’t do this to me.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Oh thank God.” Hope’s voice reached me, but I had no time to consider what she said. I was too busy turning and running down the aisle in the opposite direction. I couldn’t think or consider what I’d just done. This was right. It had to be. Kit and I could live in abject misery the rest of our lives, or we could not do this to begin with. I was voting for plan B.
I ran and ran, leaving everyone in my wake. This was problematic. I was never alone, couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent any time by myself. I always had at least one security person with me because of some issue Dad had with people who wanted to harm him by getting to us. I didn’t even care. No one was going to hurt me. Not if I kept moving and never let myself stop.
I was in Paris, right by the Louvre actually, and I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t speak French, not a word of it. Languages didn’t work for me, like many other things my brain just couldn’t do. In my wedding dress, I didn’t have pockets or any money. Not even my cell phone. That didn’t matter. Crowds of people waited outside of the Louvre, and I rushed past them.
It had to be a bizarre sight, some redheaded woman running in a wedding dress past tourists in the middle of Paris.
I ran until I lost my shoes. No one stopped me. By contrast, people seemed very happy to get out of my way. Eventually, I felt like I’d actually been running in a circle and not getting anywhere particularly far. I stopped to catch my breath. No one chased me. I was all on my own in the middle of who knew where Paris without a friend in the world. I’d left all of them back at the Palais Royal, what few I had. Most of them were more like acquaintances I did things with when I wasn’t seeing Kit that night. Or after I left Kit to go do whatever partying he was going to engage in without me.
I’d had some real friends at the beginning of college, but then I’d dropped out to pursue my fashion career. That was what we’d said to the media. The truth was I couldn’t cut it in school. I just wasn’t very smart.
Never had been.
I supposed it hadn’t mattered very much.
I sat down on a bench. What had I just done? I put my head in my hands. The time to leave Kit was not at our wedding. It was a week ago. A month ago. The day after he proposed. I stared down at my ring he’d given me. It was princess shaped. I hated it. I should have known then. Poor Kit. Oh fuck. What was I going to do?
Thoughts raced but I had no answers for them, so there was nothing to do but sit there and…and what? I didn’t even know.
Several cars came to a screeching stop in front of me, and my solitude was over. How long had I sat here? Three minutes. My father. Our security, led by a man named Michael Li, chased after him. My sisters. Justin. They were all there, and all of them started talking all at once, but it was only my father’s voice I could hear.
“How could you do this?” he yelled, putting his finger right in my face so close, he grazed the edge of my nose. He’d never hit us. That would have required him to care a lot more than he actually did most of the time. Nannies handled things, and then we went to college. As long as we never ended up in jail, we were pretty much golden with him.
Lately, he’d been downright happy with me. I’d even gotten a smile last night at the rehearsal dinner. But he wasn’t happy with me now.
I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t even blame him for this. The Allards had planned the wedding, but my dad had paid for it. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was walking down the aisle, and all I could think was that I couldn’t possibly go another step toward him. He’s not the one. He’s not… I’m sorry. I really am. Daddy, I know this was the wrong timing and…”
“The wrong timing?” He laughed. “Do you know how long I had to work to convince them to let you two get married at all?”
Wait…what? I’d barely digested that when he continued.
“My stupid daughter who will never amount to anything. Marrying Kit was the best thing to ever happen to you. Do you know what this wedding cost? But forget that, do you know what you’ve ruined?”
Tears that should have probably shown up before now streamed down my face. I wasn’t crying for Kit. No, it was because my father was yelling. I’d never been able to abide being screamed at. It was almost automatic for me to weep just from the raised voice alone, forget what they were saying to me altogether.
“You are going to pay me back for this.”
I didn’t understand. “How am I going to do that?”
“Dad.” Bridget sat down next to me, drawing me against her. “Stop it. I’m personally relieved that she didn’t marry that asshole. Kit is a piece of shit.”
He ignored her. “You have ruined me, and I am
done with you. Forget your life. As of this moment, you are cut off. Live, die. I don’t care. Your security? Your checking account? It’s all over. Layla Radford, you are now the nothing you’ve always been.”
“No,” Hope yelled next to him. “You can’t do this to her.”
The trouble was that he could, and I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do.
Chapter Two
“Father.” Justin approached. Dad had always preferred him. The son he’d wanted before he got saddled with triplet girls and no wife to raise them. “Maybe we should calm down.”
My father threw his head back. “This could ruin me. Calm down. Layla, every cent of this disaster will be on your shoulders until you pay me back. I hope you like that bench. You’ll be sleeping on it.”
“No, she’s not.” Hope’s cheeks flushed red. “We won’t let you do that to her. She’ll stay with me or with Bridget. You’re not putting her out on the street because she didn’t want to marry a man she’s not in love with. Kit isn’t worth her spit. Not with her kind heart. Just no.”
He pointed at Hope and then at Bridget. “If you two interfere in this, then you’re cut off, too.”
I gasped. No, I wouldn’t allow that. Hope and Bridget were worth ten of me. They were smart, brilliant. I wouldn’t take away their opportunities. No, that couldn’t happen.
“I’m sure we can work this out.” Justin smiled, a tight lifting of his cheeks.
“The only way this works out is if she comes back to me on her knees begging. And even then, she’ll pay back every cent she owes me for this farce. You’re on your own, Layla. I’m done with you. Your credit cards are closed. I’m taking my money out of your bank account. We’ll call it paying off your tab.” With a long look he glared at my siblings. “You have five minutes to say your goodbyes. Or you’re done, too.”
He stormed into his car, leaving Michael Li to stand there staring at us. His people had guarded us for almost a decade. Although my father had declared himself done with me, it would seem Michael wasn’t quite sure what to do. Did he leave us there or go with my father? His gaze halted on the bench, and he changed his stance, broadening how he took up space in the world. I guessed he didn’t mean to leave.
I rubbed at my face. This was just like me. I made a rash decision, and now everyone was going to suffer. This was going to be exactly like the time I’d wanted to sneak out to go see that concert in Central Park and we’d all been grounded because of it. No, I could do better this time.
“You guys need to go.”
Bridget shook her head. “We’re not leaving you here on this bench to be homeless. He can go…suck a duck.”
I stared at her a long second before Hope and I both cracked up. Suck a duck? English was our first—and in my case only—language, but sometimes, I could hear our nannies in her expressions. That one was one of our first nannies. Her name had been Nadia, and she’d lived with us when we temporarily resided in Monaco. That had been the years Dad had been looking for a better tax haven. I hadn’t understood that then. I’d just thought it was stunningly beautiful, and I’d loved the views from my bedroom every morning.
Nadia used to say that. I put my head in my hands, laughter fleeing abruptly. “You’ve worked too hard to do this. I’ll go beg. That’s what he wants, that’s what he’ll get.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Justin knelt down in front of me. “If you do that, there is no coming back from it. Trust me. But we’re not just going to leave you here, either.” Justin rubbed his nose. His eyes were red. I knew this look well from Kit. My former fiancé had taught me the signs well, and even in the midst of this personal crisis, I couldn’t help but have my heart clench as I stared at my big brother. When had it gotten this bad? Justin slipped something into my hand. “That is my debit card. Use it to take a taxi to the Hotel des Oiseaux.”
Hope scrunched up her nose. “Birds. The hotel of birds?”
He waved his hand at her. “It’s very exclusive, and she’ll see when she gets there… Yes, there are birds. Never mind that right now. It’s in the seventh arrondissement. You’ll be fine if you get there and wait for me.” He rose. “In the meantime, you two go back to the hotel where her stuff is and retrieve it before he thinks to have it thrown out. Her cell phone. Her wallet. They’re probably at the venue where she was dressing, but the passport will be at the hotel. Hurry about it.”
Bridget jumped up. “I’m going to have to ride in the car with him to go do that.”
“We all are.” Justin sighed. “If we don’t go with him, he’ll find a way to make this even harder on her.”
I couldn’t believe my brother was taking control like this. It was so not like him to do this. Justin was always pretty removed emotionally from whatever was happening with all of us. “Layla, wait for us to leave. Get a taxi and meet me there. I’ll take care of you. Okay?”
I wiped at my eyes. That was so nice of him, so unexpected. Bridget shook her head at me. She didn’t understand it either. Next to me, Hope squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll take care of everything and meet you there.”
“Thank you.” I wiped my eyes again.
Justin put out his hand. “I’ll take the ring.”
Maybe my head was just too fogged up after everything, but I had no idea what he was talking about. “The ring?”
“On your finger. You left Kit at the altar. You’re going to need to return that. I’ll do it for you.”
He was right. I did need to return the ring. Fuck. I hadn’t thought anything about that. With shaking hands from the adrenaline in my system, I pulled the ring off my finger and handed it to Justin. When he would have pulled his hand away, I held it there. “Hold on. This, too.”
The tennis bracelet Kit had given me needed to be returned to him as well. He stared at the bracelet for a long moment before he closed his hand around the diamonds I’d placed there. “I wish things were different, Layla. Please remember that.”
“You’re helping me so much. Thank you.” I’d really never be able to show Justin how much I appreciated this.
Hope shifted in her seat. “Right. Very surprising, big brother.”
“Come on.” He nodded toward the car. “Just get to the hotel.”
Kissing my cheek, Hope smiled. “We’ll fix it.”
I didn’t think things could really be made better. But I wasn’t being abandoned by my siblings, and that was a gift I’d never be able to repay. Bridget furrowed her brow, a string of her red hair falling into her eyes. She stared intently at our brother. I wished I could read her mind like twins and triplets could do in stories, but if anyone had that talent, it hadn’t been me.
They walked past Michael and headed into the car. The head of security looked at me and then the car. He stalked over to me and leaned down. “It’s safe right now. We don’t have any immediate threats to be concerned with. But I don’t like leaving you, so try and fix this thing with your father soon. Okay?”
I think that might have been the most he’d ever said to me in one moment. He’d always been impressively quiet. I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Maybe everything would be okay.
My optimism lasted as I watched the limo drive away, leaving me on a bench in a country where I couldn’t understand a word the locals said. I even managed to find myself a taxi. It had been years since I’d been in one. If I wasn’t in a car being driven by paid staff, I used ride shares. But since I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t do any of that, and so a taxi was my only choice.
I’d taken French in school. We’d all had to, and I’d lived in French-speaking countries, but I couldn’t speak or understand any of it. I’d never been able to. It was just another way that my brain perpetually failed me. Any language other than English eluded me, no matter what I tried to do about it. The taxi driver must have understood me enough to get me to the hotel. We pulled up to the building, and I let out the breath I felt like I’d been holding the entire time.
The cab driver spoke
, and I knew enough about life in general to understand that he wanted to be paid. That was sort of universal. I handed him Justin’s debit card, gratitude flooding me that he’d given it to me.
He was going to meet me here, and everything was going to be fine. I’d never have believed it, but my brother was actually coming through for me. All the years that he’d tortured or ignored me were behind us. When I needed him, drugs or no drugs, Justin was there.
The cab driver said something else I didn’t understand and shook his head wildly. I stared at him. Something was wrong. He held up the card and repeated the same phrases plus some new ones that didn’t sound any nicer as he pushed the debit card in front of my eyes.
It took me a moment to realize the card hadn’t worked. That was impossible. There had to be something electronically wrong. Justin’s card would be good. He’d never hand me a means to pay for this taxi that was going to be denied.
Would he?
“I…I don’t have anything else.” Not a thing, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Panic crept up my spine. What in the hell was I going to do? “Can you try the card again?”
We went back and forth like that for a good long time. Over and over, he’d try the card, it would be rejected, and he’d yell louder at me. That didn’t make what he was saying any clearer. Was he going to call the police? Was I going to spend the night in a prison in Paris? What was going to happen here? I…
The door flung open and standing in front of me was Zeke Scott, my father’s business partner. My mouth fell open. What was he doing here?
He regarded me for a second before he turned his attention to the cab driver, saying things back to him that I also couldn’t make out before he handed him some cash. At least that stopped the shouting.
Zeke reached in and grabbed my arm, basically yanking me out of the cab a second before the disgruntled driver took off like a bat out of hell down the block and away from where we stood watching. Gentler than he’d tugged me, Zeke let go of my arm.
“Sorry about that. I was half-convinced he was going to abscond with you as some sort of interest payment.”
Redhead On The Run (RedHeads Book 1) Page 2
