The Reckoning

by S. L. Scott

  She lifts up on her toes, using my shoulders as leverage, and scans the place. “I think I see a VIP area in the far right corner. Follow me.” She takes my hand and starts leading me in the direction she mentioned. Sebastian and Gracie right behind me.

  Tracy’s pace picks up and she says, “Over there.” Swinging me in front of her, I see Kaz, then Tommy. A huge smile takes over because seeing Kaz and Tommy means I’ll see my man.

  I hurry through the crowded club and land right in front of a huge bouncer. I point. “I’m with them.”

  “Sure you are, sweetheart. Keep moving and take your friends with you.”

  “I’m married to Dalt… to Johnny Outlaw.”

  “Keep moving,” he says sternly, crossing his arms.

  As I’m pulling my phone out to text Dalton, Sebastian squeezes through and says, “Kace, what’s up, man.”

  “Sebastian Lassiter, How’s it going, man?”

  “It’s going. Chin deep in models.”

  “Tough life.”

  “Yeah, but someone’s gotta do them… I mean do it.”

  The bouncer laughs and says, “Last time I saw you was with that model—”

  “Not a model. She was Miss International.”

  “She was hot. You hit that?”

  “Of course I did,” he says, laughing, “disqualifying her from future pageants technically, but I promised to keep that a secret. Oops.”

  The bouncer laughs and they fistbump, then he lifts the red rope. “Come on in.”

  Once we’re past security, I walk up two steps and past a louvered wall to the band’s private area. Dalton is sitting in the middle of a U-shaped grey leather couch. He’s pouring himself a drink from the bottle in front of him. Dex and Derrick are on one side of him talking to each other. Ashley, some other girl, and a guy I don’t recognize are on the other side of him. I stand there staring, in shock.

  When Dalton sits back, raising the glass to his mouth, he stops when his eyes land on mine. A smile that holds many secrets shows up and he stands. “Hey Baby.” Then his gaze drifts, the lines of his mouth hardening.

  Sebastian. Dalton spots him.

  The people on the couch sit back as he steps over them, Ashley whining, “I want a drink.”

  “Why is he here?” Dalton asks, his lips touching mine right after.

  “Why is she here?” I ask, tossing the jealousy back in his court.

  He shrugs. “She understands band life, life on the road.”

  She understands him…

  Taking a deep breath, I block her out reminding him that I know the real him, not just the persona he puts on. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again, this time longer and harder. Tingles reach my toes and I sigh, content in the moment. The span of his hands cover my sides and I forget about everyone else. “How’d the show go?”

  With a knees-weakening wry grin, he says, “The show was great. Great crowd and no screw-ups.”

  “That’s good.”

  “What are you drinking?”

  “Champagne. Too much I think, but I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

  “The photoshoot went well?”

  “I think so. Tracy wouldn’t let me see the pics. She said I’d get all self-conscious and bossy and that would ruin the vibe.”

  He chuckles. “Sounds about right.”

  His arm is smacked before he even finishes his comment. “Very funny. Now where’s my drink?”

  “Coming right up.”

  “I like you coming,” I state.

  He turns back to me amused. “How much did you have to drink already?”

  Tapping my chin, I say, “A few… bottles, but who’s counting.”

  “You sure you want more?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He signals the waitress over and orders three bottles of champagne.

  Leaning in again so he can hear me over the loud music, I say, “I want to introduce you to the photographer.”

  He nods and with his hand in mine, I guide him to the area close to Kaz and Derrick where she’s hanging out with Tracy. “Gracie, this is my husband Johnny Outlaw,” I introduce him by his public persona. Dalton’s just for me.

  They shake hands and Gracie says, “You have a beautiful wife. Very intelligent and she was great to work with.”

  “Did she take direction well?”

  Giving him a hip bump, I say, “Ignore that. He’s being pervy.”

  She laughs. “It’s good to see a couple so sexually inspired.”

  “I’m actually feeling inspired by her right now,” he adds.

  My cheeks heat and I shake my head. “I think it’s time for a change of subject.”

  Gracie leans in and says, “She was uptight at the shoot at first too. We had to loosen her up with some shots of whiskey.” She laughs because she doesn’t understand how touchy that subject is between Dalton and I.

  His arm comes around my shoulder and I’m held to him. I wrap mine around his middle. He’s in good spirits, so the conversation stays light even when his eyes land on Sebastian. “Yeah, we may all need some shots.”

  The waitress hands me a glass of champagne and I quickly start to drink.

  Dalton takes a gulp of his drink while eyeing him. “How was dinner?”

  Tracy joins in, sensing we need to tread carefully. “We ate at this great bistro by The Park.”

  Leaning my head against his shoulder, I say, “The food was amazing. I was so hungry after being so careful for days. Did you eat?”

  “I ate some pasta before the show and had a piece of pizza after.”

  Gracie starts telling Dalton how she’d like to take his photo or even do a shoot with the two of us when I’m tapped on the shoulder. I glance to my side to find Sebastian. “Hey, you gonna formally introduce us?”

  I nod. “Yeah, sure.” When Gracie finishes, I move so everyone is included in the group and say, “Hey Babe, I want you to meet Sebastian.”

  “Why?” Dalton chuckles.

  “Easy now.” That earns him an elbow nudge. “Johnny Outlaw. Sebastian Lassiter.”

  Sebastian reaches forward and they shake hands. Although I can feel how tight Dalton’s body has gotten, by outer appearances, nothing has changed at all. Not impressed, Sebastian says, “The great Johnny Outlaw.”

  “We can save the pissing contest for another day. Tonight I want to celebrate.”

  “I think I’ve seen you before,” Dalton says, starting to ease.

  “My ex-girlfriend was in your last video. Blonde Sports Illustrated model named Yayla.”

  “Right,” he replies. “I remember you broke up with her while we were filming.”

  “My girlfriend was making out with a rock star. Some men’s egos can’t handle that kind of competition. If I’d only known then that I’d be making out with your wife… Guess we can call it even.”

  He holds his glass up for a bonding toast and maybe a laugh, but Dalton doesn’t move. His stare hardens, so I try to break the building tension. “How long do you want to stay?”

  Ignoring me altogether, his focus remains on Sebastian. “It’s funny how many people are threatened by a persona.” His arm tightens around my shoulders and Dalton says, “As you can see we’re happily married, so you broke up with her for nothing.”

  “Nah, she was fucking a guy from Europe’s Next Top Model on the side. And between us, she wasn’t a great lay, so it was no big deal. Now your wife on the other hand—”

  It happens so fast—one moment I’m tucked under the loving arm of my husband, the next my glass flies from my hand and I land on the grey couch falling against Dex. Sebastian is pinned to the ground by Dalton, his hand firmly on his chest, the other about to pummel him. “Don’t you ever disrespect my wife nor me or I will fucking end you.”

  Dex and Tommy are off the couch in an instant, grabbing Dalton off of Sebastian. “Let it go, Johnny,” Tommy yells. “He’s half your size.”

  “And a fucking punk ass,” Dex adds.

&
nbsp; All three men are standing while Sebastian begins to sit up. Gracie helps him to his feet and I jump to mine. When I reach Dalton, I plead, “Don’t do this. Calm down.”

  With his shoulders back, his arrogance is seen in his smartass smile. His eyes are narrowed on me when he says, “See, I have self-control.” He smirks and a laugh follows as his body relaxes again.

  That is until Sebastian says, “When you’re fucking her tonight, remember it was me who got her wet and ready.”

  A blur of fists flying and bodies rushing together sends me to protectively duck out of the way, turning my back. I’m grabbed by somebody and pulled back out of the way. Dalton descends on Sebastian as the band tries to stop the fight.

  In the middle of it all, the prick of a thousand knives being stabbed into my back alert me and I turn around to find Ashley standing too close for my comfort. Tracking Dalton like prey, she says, “He could be the most powerful man in music.” She’s loud enough for me to hear over the commotion, but quiet enough to only be heard by me.

  “He is now.”

  “I’m not talking about one of the most powerful. I’m talking about the most powerful. Without distractions, he could be king.”

  Is she referring to me? “And by distractions, you mean what?”

  Her head turns, slowly and her eyes pierce me. As if she catches herself, a fake smile appears and she shrugs, then says, “If the shoe fits,” and walks away.

  Her words fill my body with anxiety. I can’t lose him. I won’t. The scuffle draws my attention back as the bouncer pulls Sebastian from the fight, taking him toward the front door. Dalton drags his arm across his mouth, leaving a bloody streak across his skin. I rush to him, but Tommy grabs my arm as Dex, Derrick, and Kaz barricade Dalton. “We’re leaving.” Tommy takes the tail, holding me to his side for safety as we head for the back exit.

  Dalton climbs into a cab and the guys let me through to get in next to him. Tommy hops in the front seat and we take off down the alley. I look back and see the other guys getting in the cab behind us. When I turn back around, I place my hand on Dalton’s arm, but he jerks away from me, and says, “Don’t.” The word harsh and pained.

  Hurt bubbles up inside as I stare at him in disbelief. “Dalton—”

  “Not now, Holliday!” he roars, filling the car.

  Tommy turns back from the front and says, “Calm down, Johnny.”

  Stunned into silence, I scoot toward the door and look out the window. I’m not sure where we’re going. Tommy gave the driver directions. Dalton lowers his voice and says to me, “We’re not doing this in the cab.”

  My hands are now shaking and my heart is racing for all the wrong reasons. A tear slips down my cheek as the lights from outside flash by like sirens across my face. I’m sick to my stomach and wounded by how he’s treating me, but I’ll wait like he commanded for what seems to be building into the worst fight we’ve ever had.

  Tommy exits the elevator at the hotel on floor seventeen. I remain quiet across the vestibule from Dalton, glancing at the button for our floor still lit up. The doors close and we ride in a torturous silence to the twenty-fifth floor. I wonder if he feels as sick as I do right now. It’s hard to tell when he has huge walls barricading his emotions inside.

  He waits for me to get off before coming up behind me and leading me down the hall to his room. The heavy door is opened and he keeps his foot and hand on it until after I’ve entered. Walking to the window, I look. The view is okay, but tension lays heavy, not only on my head but also on my heart, obstructing the view. I want to say his name and break the stifled emotions between us. I want to scream his name in fury for making me feel as though I’ve betrayed him. I want to slap him for implanting dread into the base of my belly. I want to hug him and make it all better. I want to kiss him and remind him who we are to each other. I want to whisper his name in caresses and show him what he means to me.

  But I can’t.

  My feet are planted, my body exhausted, and my more stubborn side wants him to speak first. When he does, I instantly regret it.

  “Holliday…” His tone is somber as he sits down in a chair across from a cream-colored couch. The pea green throw draped across it bothers me, briefly distracting me from his body language, which is breaking my heart. “What he said… Look at me. Please.” When I build enough strength to look up, he says, “I need you to tell me what he meant.”

  “Dalton,” I start, hating the plea in my own tone. “Do you really think I did something with him, that I would do that not only against our vows, but in front of a crowd and a camera?” His brow is furrowed as he seems to stare right through me. “Are you listening? I would never hurt you.”

  “You were drinking. Things happen.”

  “I had two shots. That’s it. I didn’t do anything.” Having to defend myself like this twists my emotions, putting me on the defensive. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. After what we talked about this afternoon, after being married and making a lifelong commitment to you. I’m not one of your ex-girlfriends who fucks around behind your back. I’m your wife, the one who has been to hell and back with you, Dalton.”

  He stands abruptly and the motion makes me flinch. “I don’t like what’s happening with us.”

  “I don’t either. You haven’t just lost trust. You’ve lost faith in me. Why?”

  He grabs a bottle of water from the silver tray on the TV console and opens it. Before he takes a drink, he says, “Things have changed between us and I don’t like it. I’m fighting with you because I’m fighting for us.”

  “You don’t have to fight for us. We’re fine. We’re together. We’re all that matters.”

  “No, we’re not anymore. I see the stories about you. I watch your interviews. Your company has grown a lot in the last two years. It’s only natural you grow… or change with it. I don’t want to be forgotten.”

  I sigh, relieved that he can confess such fears. I walk across the room and touch his chest. “You are unforgettable. You are everything to me. I will always love you, but just as important, I will always be faithful to you.”

  He leans down to kiss me, but Ashley’s words echo in my ear—without distractions, he could be king.

  “The world unravels like time—second by second, slipping like sand through your fingers.” ~ Johnny Outlaw

  His mind is messing with him.

  Dalton’s tentativeness with me is felt in his light touch. I want him. I want him to touch me like he always does, like he can’t get enough of me. I kiss his neck, my bare chest against his as we try to overcome earlier events. “Come back to me,” I whisper.

  “I’m here.” His voice is distant, his eyes hold emptiness. I avoid the heavy and try to recover and reconnect. The fabric of his jeans is rough as I straddle him on the chair. Whiskey is tasted as our tongues mingle and the coarseness from the shadow of his beard pricks under my fingertips as I hold him close. Looking him in the eyes, I close mine and lean in to kiss him again. “Don’t just touch me. Feel me, Dalton. I’m right here. I need you to touch me like you mean it.”

  “I do mean it.”

  Sex isn’t going to solve our problems. We need to talk. Leaning back just a hint, I kiss the side of his mouth where it was split during the fight. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Was he hurt?”

  “I fucking hope so.”

  When heaviness conspires to ruin our time, I smile while tilting my head. “Rest assured, he does nothing for me.”

  “He’s a model. He’s designed to do something to you.”

  “He’s not you.”

  There’s a flicker of life in his eyes, bringing him back to me. Our mouths come together quickly as he lifts me up and carries me to the large canopy bed. He sets me down carefully and pops the snap of my jeans. As the zipper is dragged down, his gaze travels over my body, taking me in. I slide my hands down over my hips when my jeans are removed, then up his to unbutton his jeans. With the fly open, he drop
s them and steps out. In only our underwear, we move up the bed and start kissing.

  Kissing Dalton is sensual and always laced with more behind its innocence. His hand slinks between us and touches me over the lace of my underwear. Back and forth he rubs lightly. “Harder,” I whisper, my resolve to take this slow abandoned along with my bra.

  The pressure intensifies and I dip my head back to enjoy the sensation. My neck is met by his tongue as it drags up the length before his lips meet under my jaw and he sucks. If he wants to leave a mark, I’ll let him, needing it as much as he does. Dalton sits up just as I’m about to give in entirely and lose myself. He’s left me wet and wanton and that makes me snarky. “What the fuck?”

  A God forsaken roguish grin slides into place as he takes the sides of my panties and asks, “Do you want to keep these?”

  I know better than to pause when we play these games, but I do anyway just to prove a point. “Last chance,” he warns, no smile to be seen.

  “I’ll take my chan—” My thong is ripped from my body before I finish speaking, the burn on my sides, stinging with desire.

  Dalton is direct in his wants and when his head goes between my legs, I know he wants to please me. He’s always been amazing about more than satisfying my needs first. A light pressure spreads my legs further apart as his hands warm the insides of my knees. The heat of his breath hits my sensitivity and I squirm while gripping his hair between my fingers. “Babe…”

  His hand goes flat over my stomach, holding me in place while his mouth makes love to me. I want to scream, wanting him deeper than he can go… “Fuck me, Dalton.”

  He continues for a second, then looks up. “I want to finish.”

  “I can’t take it. I need you inside me!” Boxers are discarded and he’s above me positioning himself within seconds. When he sinks inside, my eyes close and my mouth opens. “I missed you. I missed this.”

  Kissing my neck, he sighs as the sensation strikes him causing him to exhale heavily. “I miss you, all of you. All the fucking time.”