The Sound of Salvation (Deliverance Book 1)

by I. A. Dice

  “Enough!” Nadia yelled, standing in the middle of the hallway. “Everyone, shut up!” They all turned to her, surprised. “Here’s how it’s going to go: Grace, you need to be upstairs with Mel. Groomsmen go in the living room, bridesmaids in the kitchen. Jack, you’re in charge of the groomsmen—make sure they look decent. Karen,” she swallowed hard and grinded her teeth, “take over the bridesmaids.” She rolled her eyes, when no one moved. “Do you need an invitation?! Go!”

  They did. As directed, groomsmen went to the left, and bridesmaids went to the right. Karen watched Nadia for a second, probably stunned that she addressed her by name and not by “bitch”, then spun around and got to work as if fulfilling Nadia’s order could earn her forgiveness.

  “Make sure they don’t get out of control again,” Nadia told me, looking over her shoulder. “I’m going upstairs.”

  The remark about Amelia throwing up stopped me from climbing the stairs to say “Hi”. Instead, I got Nick a glass of champagne, and tried to blend in, so no one could ask me what time it was, when the cars were arriving, or where their fucking bowtie was. Nadia came back five minutes later, and once again took control. Within thirty seconds, Ethan was on his way to the pharmacy for some over the counter anti-nausea medication, and everyone knew where their fucking bowtie was.

  “I need you,” Nadia took my hand. Long, manicured nails dug into my skin and she stepped closer to my side. “Karen,” she shouted, waiting for her mother to join us in the hallway.

  I fell in love with her that much more. She trusted me to keep her in check, to soothe the torment in her mind whenever Karen was about. I put my hand around her waist, leaning into her ear.

  “I’ve got you. And you’ve got this.”

  Karen emerged from the kitchen, pale and self-conscious.

  “Grace is falling apart up there, and it’s not helping Mel. Take her place and calm Mel down. I need to get the dress and the bouquet ready.”

  “Of course,” Karen said.

  She watched Nadia as if debating whether now was a good time for more apologies and explanations, but Nadia didn’t let her get another word in when she stepped in front of me, and planted her lips on mine as if she needed a bit more than just my hands around her to stay sane.

  The noise level dropped a few decibels when she devoured my lips in the middle of the hallway, paying no attention to the audience.

  “You need me to do anything, baby doll?”

  “Yes. Take care of the groom. I’ll handle the rest.”

  A calmness settled over the cottage once the groomsmen were made presentable by Jack, who had to tie everyone’s bowtie as no one knew how. Amelia stopped throwing up, and the bridesmaids walked out to the back garden to giggle some more.

  Of course, nothing lasts forever, and chaos erupted again when we gathered outside the church both before and after the ceremony. It was a good thing that Nadia knew how to handle an insubordinate crowd without offending anyone.

  If it were me, I would throw a few fucks and idiots at random people as a form of a reliable tactic designed to make them listen. Nadia settled for discipline and confidence. She was sexy as hell bossing everyone around and earned permission to do that to me in bed sometimes.

  Amelia and Nick were all hearts, kisses and smiles when we arrived at the venue, and guests started the usual ritual of wishing them all the best. Since Nadia and I did that earlier, I took her hand in mine and walked over to the main table.

  “Tell me this is not what all weddings are like,” Scorpio said leaning over the back of my chair and motioning to the happy couple. “It looks like torture. I’m starting to worry they’ll never lose those idiotic grins.”

  Nadia punched his shoulder. “Stop being an ass. And to answer your question—yes, you will have to do this one day, and if I were you, I would make sure that day comes sooner rather than later.”

  “Why?” He pulled a chair out and took a seat. “Did Jane say something to you? She wants to get married? Have babies? When? Now? What did she say?”

  “Good job not freaking out,” Nadia chuckled. “She only suggested that all our hen parties should be in Barcelona. She wants to make it a tradition. But, you’re what, twenty-eight? And you’ve been together for how long now? Unless there’s something holding you back, go for it. You’re not getting any younger.”

  Scorpio glanced at me for help.

  “I’m with her on this one.”

  “Of course you are,” he scoffed, then made a sound that was supposed to resemble a crack of a whip.

  Nice one.

  Disappointed that I didn’t have his back, he disappeared in the crowd to find Jane. Nadia sipped on white wine, looking around for things that required her attention.

  “Why don’t you take care of the caterers and I’ll manage the band. We can entertain the guest together,” I said.

  She focused on something at the back of the room. “I’ll be right back. I think Mel’s having a hard time with her dress.”

  During the next four hours we had time for just one dance, and then Nick stole her from me, so I took Mel’s hand instead. The first glass of double vodka on the rocks, which I ordered when we walked into the venue, still sat on the table. I had maybe two sips from it. The ice melted and watered down the alcohol deeming it undrinkable.

  When midnight struck, the bridesmaids almost ended up in a group catfight over Amelia’s bouquet. Alexandra caught it and was already lifting it for everyone to see when Jane tackled her and tore it out of her hands. She stood up and flattened her dress, beaming.

  I patted Scorpio’s back. “Good luck, mate. You should get that ring on her before she scratches someone’s eyes out.”

  Ethan scoffed, standing beside us. “Please don’t. I hate weddings,” he muttered. “All these old people keep patting my back with a grin, saying, “You’re next”. I don’t even have a girlfriend!”

  “Return the favour at the next funeral,” I said.

  The room started emptying around one o’clock in the morning, and soon it was only the young ones still dancing, drinking and shouting.

  “Can you check with the band if they can stay until we’re done here?” Nick asked when I came back to the table with my second drink. “They’re booked until three, but I think we’ll be here longer.”

  I set the glass aside and made my way across the room. Nadia grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a dance before I reached the band. She stayed on the dance floor for thirty minutes dancing with every guy left in the room, her cheeks flushed but a big smile on her lips.

  “Sit down,” I said three songs later. “I need to talk to the band.”

  “I’ll get some air. Join me when you’re done.” She turned on her heel and walked over to the patio doors.

  The lead singer had no problem staying until everyone left. Nick paid them enough to cover a weekend of playing, so they had no reason to be awkward. Besides, he had his heart on a record deal, and thanks to the unique sound of his voice, he had a shot at making it happen.

  It was close to four in the morning when Nadia, cuddled in my arms at the main table, began yawning. Eight of us were left in the room, but the band played on. The singer sang a soft, acoustic version of Cry Me A River by Justin Timberlake.

  “Should we call it a night,” I whispered in her ear, and smiled when goose bumps covered her neck. “You must be exhausted.”

  “No less than you.”

  “Come on.” I patted her hip and stood when she slid from my lap. “We’ve got the whole day tomorrow to keep celebrating.”

  Nick had a brilliant idea halfway through the wedding reception to invite half of the guests that were still in the room over to the cottage for a big barbecue. He even arranged with the catering company to prepare the food, and a big, fat check made it possible.

  We entered room thirty-one on the second floor, and Nadia changed into a white nightdress, and climbed onto the bed, where I lay, ready to pull her to my side and tuck her in. She had differ
ent plans, and despite the exhaustion, the moment she sat on my lap, my batteries recharged. I didn’t like the aura of insecurity surrounding Nadia, the sadness in her eyes, and urgency of her touch, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she lulled me into a false sense of security.

  “You’re my heaven, Thomas.”

  CHAPTER 32

  NADIA

  Jumped ship

  Inaudible sobs shuddered my body when I closed the door to room number thirty-one, taking care not to make a sound. I tiptoed across the long corridor, my footsteps muffled by the red carpet, and then ascended the stairs with a small suitcase in one hand and a tote bag on my shoulder.

  Once in the lobby, I set the suitcase on the floor, and wheeled it toward the reception desk. An older gentleman sat behind it, read a newspaper, and drank green tea from a small, white cup. The name on a gold plaque pinned to his navy jacket read Alistair.

  “Good morning. Trouble sleeping?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. “The Groom hasn’t yet made his way to bed, and you’re up already.”

  “I have a plane to catch.” I cleared my throat and wiped my face. There was no hiding how upset I was. “Is my brother still in the venue?”

  “No, he left with one of the groomsmen about an hour ago. I believe they craved junk food.”

  I cringed. Amelia spent a long time designing the perfect menu for the wedding, but Nick complained to me during the night at least half a dozen times that he was starving because the portions were tiny.

  “Please don’t tell him I left.”

  Alistair bowed, and took the key from the countertop. “As you wish. Should I order you a taxi?”

  “No, thank you. One should be here in ten minutes.”

  “Well, then. Have a nice flight.”

  I wiped more tears, then smiled the best I could, and walked outside. Instead of calming down a little while the clouds of smoke filled my lungs, I freaked out more with each passing second.

  Abandoning Thomas was the cruellest decision I ever made. Abandoning Adrian couldn’t compare. He deserved to be left for what he did. Thomas did nothing to drive me away, nothing to warrant the broken heart he was getting from me as a thank you gift for the help he offered. He gave me reason after reason to stay, but how could I stay and risk that Adrian would try to take his life again?

  Five minutes passed. I glanced around, willing Thomas to stay asleep. Every sound had me jumping out of my skin, every voice in the distance quickened my pulse. My hands grew cold and damp; my muscles tensed, and every time I blinked, Thomas’s face flashed before my eyes, his cinnamon irises full of sadness.

  It would have been better if I had the courage to face him, explain why I chose to leave and help the man who left me traumatized. But courage wasn’t my strongest suit, and like a coward, I wrote Thomas a letter, and left it on the pillow.

  “Nadia? What are you doing up?”

  I heard behind me, and spun around, my pulse like a blaring thunder. Nick and Scorpio stood by the entrance to the hotel, still in their tuxedos, although neither wore a bowtie anymore, and a couple of the buttons on their shirts were undone. Scorpio munched on sad looking chips from a polystyrene box, his eyes narrowed at me.

  My vocal cords stuck together, and a mild panic attack lurked nearby when Nick scanned my tear-stained face.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, taking a few steps forward. “Are you …” He paused, adding two and two together. “You’re going back to New York?”

  A whimper was my first answer. “I have to.” I gripped the handle of my suitcase in case either of them decided to hold it hostage. “Adrian needs me, and I owe him so much.”

  I looked at Nick but aimed the words at Scorpio. Out of the two of them, he was the one I expected to try and stop me or run upstairs to wake Thomas. I half expected Nick to hug me, and wish me a pleasant flight, but something entirely different came from his mouth.

  “Where’s Thomas? He doesn’t know you’re leaving, does he?”

  Scorpio glanced between me and my brother, then turned on his heel. I lunged forward to grab his arm.

  “Don’t tell him. I left him a letter, but I can’t …”

  “You can’t say it to his face that Adrian’s more important?” he scoffed. “Figures.” He snatched his hand out of my grip. “Thomas loves you, Nadia, and you’re about to ruin him. Don’t to it.”

  The taxi pulled onto the car park and stopped by the entrance. The driver got out of the car and Scorpio bolted inside the building.

  “I don’t know what Adrian did,” Nick said, “but you told me time and time again that he doesn’t deserve you. Don’t go back to him.”

  “I’m not going back to him. I’m going back for him. Adrian’s out of rehab. He’s clean and needs me to stay clean and stay here. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he were to overdose again. I can help him.”

  A war raging in Nick’s head was visible on his face. He was torn, unsure whose side to take.

  “Thomas won’t wait for you, sis. If you leave, you will lose him. He might act all tough, but it’s just a front.”

  I wheeled the suitcase toward the driver who watched us in confusion. He locked it in the boot, left the back door open for me, and took the wheel, ready to go.

  “I know, and I also know that he deserves so much more than the mess I am. All I do is drag him down, and he should be with someone who builds him up.”

  I wrapped my arms around Nick and kissed his cheek.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Please don’t go. Scorpio’s right. It’ll ruin him, Nadia.”

  I couldn’t believe the distance he walked since he found about Thomas and me. From throwing his fist at his best friend to choosing him over Adrian—the one he hoped I would marry.

  “I’m sorry. It kills me to leave the one good thing that happened to me in a very long time, but I have to leave. Take care of him for me. He’ll need you.”

  I slid inside the car and ordered the driver to go. He pulled away from the curb, and I turned around to get one more look at my brother standing where I left him, with his hands knotted on the nape of his neck, and a disbelieving, disturbed look on his face.

  Just then, Thomas ran out of the building, barefoot in a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. His hair was a mess, but he looked awake and alert despite being dragged out of bed an hour after he fell asleep.

  “Don’t stop,” I told the driver, my vision blurred with all the tears.

  He put the foot down when he glanced in the rear-view mirror.

  Thomas ran across the car park at full speed but stopped once we turned right onto the main road.

  My heart jumped ship to stay with him—where it belonged.

  Continue for a sneak-peak of Book 2 in the Deliverance Duet.

  CHAPTER 1

  THOMAS

  Badass

  Pain woke me up. A stubborn, sharp, stabbing pain. My mouth tasted like a piece of old carpet and my head weighed about two tons. There was also the beetle that tried to chew its way out of my brain through the back of my left eye, while humming an off-key version of Baby by Justin Bieber.

  It could only mean one thing—a hangover.

  Not a standard-issue one, though. My hangover killed Chuck Norris. That’s how fucking badass it was. Lately, they were all pretty badass, but this was a brand-new level of evil.

  Opening one eye took effort. My eyelids must have been glued together. I looked around the room, not daring to move my head or, God forbid, try to sit. I couldn’t remember anything from last night, and to make things worse, I had no fucking idea where I was.

  The walls, or the parts I saw with one eye, were painted dark purple—sangria or eggplant maybe. A white, French-styled wardrobe stood to the left of the bed next to an open window. I tilted my head ever so gently to the right and saw a pair of wooden doors, a night table, and a framed quote in French on the wall.

  Was I in France?

  I didn’t recall boarding a plane, but then again, I cou
ldn’t recall any details, so it was safe to assume I may have boarded a plane. But why the hell would I go to France? I hated France.

  A breath of fresh air moved the curtain net, breached the room, and reached my face, causing a wave of shivers to erupt down my spine. Every muscle in my body screamed in agony.

  Maybe I didn’t fly here… maybe I ran.

  After another few minutes of picking my brain for clues, I gave up and decided to start moving. I looked at the nightstand again, expecting to find my phone there. When that didn’t work, I sucked in a harsh breath and sat up, thinking it’d be better to do it Band-Aid style.

  It wasn’t. Obviously.

  The room spun a few times, and I had to grab onto the sheets to stay where I was. I swung my feet off the bed, rested all of my body’s weight on them, and made my way to the en-suite bathroom, dragging said jelly-like feet across a fluffy, grey carpet.

  The reflection gawking at me in the mirror would make a spot-on Halloween costume—pale skin, dark circles surrounding my bloodshot eyes. I turned on the tap and washed my face with cold water to sober up.

  It didn’t work. Obviously.

  There were times in my youth when I got shitfaced and couldn’t remember details from the evening, but this was the first time I didn’t remember what I did even before I started drinking.

  Maybe because I started some two weeks ago.

  Anyways, whatever I had—or however much I drank, must have been a record.

  I found mouthwash in the cabinet under the sink, fake-brushed my teeth and tried to keep quiet when I left the room in case the owners, whoever the fuck they were, were still asleep. My mouth curved into a smile when the door opened onto a familiar corridor.

  I wasn’t in France. I was at Scorpio’s.

  Figures.

  My feet carried me through the landing and downstairs to the kitchen. The host sat by the table with a cup of coffee in hand.