I watched as Dalia greeted the people I used to call friends and was suddenly overcome with disgust. Not for Dalia or the people around her—I was disgusted with myself for having lived that way. For having treated people with such disdain as if they were beneath me.
“Gwen!” a shrill voice called, and a turned to see Bianca as she headed toward me with outstretched arms. She embraced me in a weak hug and my stomach turned as I remembered one drunken evening when I made her drink champagne from my shoe. I am a monster.
Bianca pulled back, her eyes bright and hopeful as always. “How are you?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“I’m wonderful,” she said. “Just got back from Ibiza with Roger.” Roger was her—for lack of a better term—sugar daddy. The man was sixty-seven years old and married with three kids, all older than Bianca, by the way, but he was loaded and Bianca never paid attention to anything beyond his net worth.
I forced a smile and began counting down the seconds until I could leave. I was not this girl anymore. I was not that shallow socialite—well, not entirely anyway. My time in The Den and with Liam had given me some much-needed perspective on everything that I once thought was important in life. Money, status, fame, it was empty and frail, a hollow life and one that I was sure I didn’t even want anymore.
“What have you been up to?” Bianca asked, drawing me out of my epiphany.
I stood up straighter with a bright smile on my face. “I’ve been working,” I said. “As a waitress in a bar called The Den.”
“A waitress?’ she asked, her nose scrunched, a clear sign of her distaste.
“That’s right. I serve beer and fried food to old men for crappy tips, and for the first time in a long time, I’m happy,” I said.
“Okay,” she replied, drawing out the word and turning to talk to someone else.
I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I really was happy, despite everything—my dad cutting me off, losing my apartment, my job. I had never in my life been happier and more content.
A heavy arm dropped around my shoulders and I looked up into the dreamy green eyes of Max, Dalia’s older brother. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said. “Long time no see.”
I turned and smiled as he pulled me into a tight hug and lifted me off my feet. “Maximus,” I said as I threw my arms around his neck.
Max set me on my feet and released me, keeping his large hands on my hips. “When did you get back?” I asked.
“This morning,” he said. “You know the only thing that cures my jet lag is…”
“Whiskey,” I said, finishing his sentence. I took a step back, looking him over. “Well, Italy certainly agrees with you. You look great.”
“Me? Look at you,” he said. “I love the hair.”
I nervously touched the back of my shorter more natural locks. I was still getting used to life without my extensions. Without the hair, the expensive clothes, and make-up I was stripped bare for all to see and to judge, but Max wasn’t like that. He had something a lot of the people in our circle of friends, myself included, lacked. He had integrity.
Max was the perfect man. I always thought so. Gorgeous, successful, kind, sweet. The total package. We had been friends for a long time, and we flirted on occasion but it never went any further. He was a gentleman, something rare and beautiful in our circle.
“Haven’t you heard?” I asked. “I’m a whole new woman.”
Max laughed. “Well, how about I buy her a drink?”
I smiled and nodded as Dalia appeared, handing me a cosmo. “No need. First round’s on me.” she said.
“So this is my surprise?” I asked, nodding toward Max.
Dalia looked between us. “Uh, yeah. Surprise!”
Concern filled Max’s eyes as he watched his sister, but Dalia pretended not to notice. She just held the pink drink out to me and took a sip of her own.
I took the drink from her hand and took a sip. It was good, maybe not the best cosmo I’ve had, but not bad. The old me would have tossed a less than perfect drink in the bartenders face and then demanded they make me a new one, but the new me sipped her funny tasting cosmo in silence.
I sank into one of the plush purple couches sipping my drink. Dalia sat on one side of me and Max dropped down on the other. It felt good just to catch up. I started to feel like less of an outcast and have a little fun.
Dalia placed her hand on his arm. “Max,” she said. “There’s Marcella. We have to say hello.”
Max looked down at me. “Duty calls,” he said. “Save me a dance later?” I nodded and watched them disappear into the crowd.
I took another sip of my drink and sat back as the room began to spin. The alcohol seemed to be going straight to my head. I needed to slow down. The fact that I hadn’t eaten since lunch probably didn’t help matters.
The lights and the writhing bodies were disorienting. I got to my feet and swayed as I searched the crowd for Dalia. I wasn’t feeling well and I needed to get home.
I felt my body tilt to the side and I stretched my arms out to brace myself for a fall. Strong hands gripped my waist and I was pulled down, landing hard on someone’s lap.
I tried weakly to get up, but the hands tightened, keeping me firmly in place. “Relax, Princess, I got you.” His voice sounded off, distorted and slow.
I tried to open my eyes, but my lids were heavy and my limbs were weak. “Liam?”
“I got you, babe,” he said as his mouth descended on mine and his tongue pushed roughly past my lips. He tasted like cigarettes and vodka. He felt wrong, tasted wrong. His fingers dug into my hip, bruising my skin as he pulled me against him.
I tried to push him away, but my limbs were weak and lifeless. I turned my head as he kissed his way down my neck.
“Liam,” I cried out for him, but my voice was barely above a whisper. No one could hear it over the music. Then nothing.
***
I woke up with a start. My head pounded and my mouth tasted like death. I groaned and dug the heels of my hands into my dry itchy eyes. A painful fog had taken over my brain. I opened one eye and scanned my surroundings for a clue as to how I ended up with the mother of all hangovers. I only remembered having one drink and I didn’t even finish it.
The room was dark. The only light coming through was a sliver of light that pierced the heavy black curtains. I rolled to my side and searched for a light on the nightstand. My fingers landed on a switch. I pressed the button and a soft light flooded the room, a hotel room by the looks of it.
Slowly, I sat up in the bed. The sheet slipped from my body, revealing my naked chest. I gasped and pulled the sheet up to cover myself. The quick movement sent shockwaves of pain through my skull. Why was I naked? How did I get naked? And where the fuck was I?
A groan beside me immediately caught my attention. I looked down at the large muscular back of a man, a man who clearly wasn’t Liam.
I brought a hand to my mouth and stared at the naked back of a man I didn’t remember going home with. Let alone getting naked with. Oh my God, what have I done?
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered as tears filled my eyes.
The man shifted and turned over on his side, still fast asleep and peaceful. Max. Oh my God, I slept with Max. This couldn’t be real. It was dream. I pinched my thigh hard and bit my lip, fighting back the yelp of pain that threatened to slip from my lips. I stared down at the red mark that appeared on my skin as a tear slipped down my cheek. I ruined everything.
Max shifted in his sleep again and I slipped from the bed in a panic. I had to get out of there. I clutched the sheet to my chest and frantically searched for my clothes, but found nothing. I saw a suitcase in the corner, tossed it open and rifled through as fast and as quietly as I could. I found a t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. I pulled on the bulky clothes, and tugged the drawstring as tight as it would go before I booked it out of the room.
Once I reached the street, I w
as able to get my bearings and luckily the hotel wasn’t that far from home, maybe ten blocks or so. I hugged myself tight against cold that spread through my body. It was a relatively warm morning, but my body felt like ice from the fear and hatred that filled my veins and made me shiver.
Tears flowed down my cheeks with every step I took, knowing that the closer I got to The Den the closer I got to losing all I had left.
Chapter 26
Liam
I heard footsteps on the stairs as I slammed my fists into the heavy bag, fighting through the pain. The door opened, but I didn’t turn. I kept my back to her, my focus on the bag and beat my anger into it.
I was right not to trust her. I was a fool for even thinking she’d changed.
Refusing to look at her, I slammed my fist into the bag over and over. Her closeness only fueled my anger as I pummeled the bag. Images of her sitting in that guy’s lap, his hand on her thigh, tongue in her mouth assaulted my thoughts. Sweat dripped from my hairline as I pounded into the bag.
I waited up all night for her to come home, but she never did. I was worried and beyond furious. I wanted her to walk through that door just so I could make sure she was okay before I threw her out again.
“Liam, I…” she said, her voice low and pained.
“You what, Gwen?” I asked, whirling around to face her. She startled a bit at the rage that was clear in my voice. “What could you possibly have to say to me?”
She stood there in another man’s clothes, tears streaming down her face. All I wanted to do was comfort her. How sick was that? She’d just destroyed me and every instinct in my body still wanted to protect her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning her eyes toward the floor.
“You’re sorry?” I asked. “I saw you, Gwen. I saw him kiss you and to make matters worse, you have the fucking nerve to show up here, wearing his clothes and all you have to say is you’re sorry.”
“Liam, I don’t know what—”
“I don’t want to know. The image in my head is bad enough.” I shook my head and turned away as my eyes burned with tears. I dropped my head and exhaled a long breath, trying to maintain what little control I had left.
“I would have given you everything,” I said. “Everything I had, everything I am. You were my life, my future, and now that’s all gone. They warned me. Your fucking father warned me that you would break my heart, but you didn’t just break it, Gwen, you destroyed it.”
“Liam,” she sobbed and took a step toward me, reaching for my hand.
I yanked my hand from her grasp and turned away. “Just get out,” I said, my voice hard and cold.
“But…”
“Get out!” I roared. Still, she didn’t move. I turned and stepped toward her, my whole body shaking with fury. “Get out of my house, get out of my life, and get the fuck out of my bar!” I said through my teeth. “I never want to see you ever again.”
She stared up at me, the heartbreak clear in her eyes. I watched the tears flow in unchecked rivers down her cheeks. I tightened my fist to keep myself from reaching to wipe them away. I needed her gone. I needed to be rid of the temptation to forgive her. If she’d shown me one thing it was that I was clearly blind to her flaws, because I never saw this coming.
Gwen played me. She made me believe she wanted me, that she loved me when in reality this was just some kind of sick game to her. None of it was real.
“You have one hour to get your shit and go.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded.
I stormed past her and slammed the door behind me, taking the stairs two at a time. When I reached the bottom, I stomped into the bar, grabbed a bottle of Jack from the shelf, and stormed into the back toward my office.
I shouldered past a confused Sam and slammed the door to my office so hard the wall rattled with the aftershocks.
An hour and a half a bottle later, there was a knock on the door.
“What?” I snapped.
Sam opened the door wide, leaned against the doorframe, and folded his arms across his chest. “She gave me this to give to you,” he said, holding a key with a hot pink lip keychain.
I snatched the key from his hand and tossed it onto my desk. I took another swig from the bottle as I watched the key disappear beneath a pile of receipts.
“Want to talk about it?” Sam asked.
“What’s there to talk about? I’m a fucking idiot.”
“That goes without saying, but I don’t see what that has to do with Gwen.”
I rolled my eyes at him and took another swig.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Did you see what she was wearing?” Sam nodded. “Let’s just say that’s not what she went out in last night.”
Sam whistled and shook his head. “You sure she didn’t just crash with her friend?”
“I saw her,” I growled. “She was draped all over some guy. Drew and Sean had to drag me from the club.”
“Tough break, kid.”
“Yeah,” I said, taking another swig from the bottle.
Sam reached over and took the bottle from my hand. “The solution to your problem ain’t at the bottom of this bottle,” he said as he took a swig for himself.
I snatched the bottle from his hand. “You sure? Maybe I should take another look.” I brought the bottle to my lips and tipped it back, ignoring the burn of alcohol as it slid down my throat.
I set the bottle down hard on my desk. “She wrecked me, Sam.”
Sam dropped a heavy hand to my shoulder. “I know, son. Give it time.”
I dropped my head into my hands and let go. The pain and anger ripped through my chest as a sob clawed its way painfully up my throat. Fuck all that preconceived bullshit about taking it like a man. You have your entire world implode from one kiss, then try not to break the fuck down.
Sam patted my back and turned to leave. He closed the door behind him and left me to grieve.
That’s exactly what I was doing. Grieving for everything she took from me, my heart, my faith, my future. She stole my life away with one kiss and there was nothing I could do to get it back.
***
The bar was packed and with Gwen gone, I was down a server. Poor Jenna had been doing the job of three people tonight and I’d been snapping at her left and right. I owed her an apology and a day off after this shit.
I slammed a beer down in front of Floyd. “Jesus,” he said. “What’s with you?”
“Nothing, Floyd. Drink your beer.”
“You’re in a mood,” he said, taking a drink from his beer. “You on your period, Princess?”
My teeth clenched at the sound of her nickname. “You know what, Floyd? I’m sick of dealing with your shit.” I ripped the beer bottle from the old man’s hand and tossed it into the trash. “Get out of my bar,” I roared and pointed a finger toward the door.
“What?” Floyd said, his face a mask of pure shock.
“I said get the fuck out!”
With a hrumpf, the old man slid from his stool and made his way toward the door. He reached for the handle and turned back to face me as Sean and Madison came in.
“Hey, Floyd,” Sean said. “How’s it goin’?”
“Ask your buddy,” he said. “Lost his goddamn mind.” With one last shake of his head, the old man left.
Sean and Madison watched him hobble up the sidewalk before turning to face me.
“What was that about?” Sean asked.
“I’m tired of his shit,” I said. “He needed to go.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “He’s eighty-six years old, Liam.”
“That’s no excuse to be a dick.” I shrugged.
“What’s your excuse?” Madison said as she hopped up onto Floyd’s empty stool.
Sean turned toward her with a smile. “God, I love you, beautiful,” he said, his eyes filled with adoration, which only made my stomach turn.
Madison shot him a wink and turned back to me. “What’s going on?
”
“Is this about Gwen?” Sean asked.
“What happened with Gwen?” Madison asked.
“We sort of ran into her at the club last night,” he said. “She was with someone else. Drew and I dragged him out of there before he lost it, but it looked pretty bad.”
Madison brought a hand to her lips. “Oh my God.” Sean nodded his agreement.
“You obviously don’t need me to discuss this so if you’ll excuse me, I have shit to do.”
“Liam, wait,” Madison called. I stopped in my tracks and looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a long breath before I turned back to face her. “Did you talk to her?”
“Oh, you mean when she showed up this morning wearing someone else’s pants?” Madison flinched at my sarcastic tone. “Yeah, we had a great talk. We’re just fucking fantastic.”
Sean held up his hand. “Whoa, man,” he said. “I know you’re pissed, but don’t talk to her like that.”
I leaned toward him across the bar. “She’s my fucking sister. I will talk to her however the fuck I want.”
“Don’t test me, Liam,” Sean said, his face hardened.
“We can take this outside.”
Sean stood up, and Madison stepped in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She turned to Sean. “You, take a seat.” She turned to me and pointed a finger toward the back. “You, upstairs.”
I crossed my arms in defiance and she shot me her “don’t fuck with me” look and headed for the back.
I shot one last glare at Sean before I followed my sister up the stairs.
When I walked in, Madison was perched on the arm of the couch stroking Cat as he nudged against her for attention. She looked up as I came in and folded her arm across her chest. Cat eyed me, irritated that I’d interrupted his affection.
“I’m sorry,” I said, stuffing my hand in the pockets of my jeans.
“Me too,” she said.
I frowned and looked up at her.
“About Gwen,” she clarified. I nodded. “It’s my fault.”
“She cheated on me, Madison. How the fuck is that your fault?”
A Chance At Redemption (Madison Square Book 3) Page 17
