The music stopped and the preacher dude said a couple of memorized sentences before Taylor spoke. My lungs seized as I listened to the words she said, soft, heartfelt…and not intended for Michael. The vow she muttered on a trembling voice was meant for me.
Thirty-Four
PLEDGES OF ALLEGIANCE
Taylor
Michael insisted we write our own vows. How does one come up with words of love and devotion for someone they hate?
I wish you dead. Rot in hell. I hate you!
Those were the only words I could write for Michael. But a vow of undying love, of a broken heart safely tucked away for someone else, I could write. My wedding vow would be a pledge to Riley. Maybe by saying the words aloud, they would magically carry a thousand miles on the wind, until they settled inside his heart, into piece carved away for me.
In time, I prayed his memories of me would wane warm and soft. Riley’s heart would mend and if my words were safely tucked inside, they would be forever sealed and a part of his soul.
As the preacher pronounced the standard marriage mantra, I studied Michael’s face, trying to remember what made me believe I loved him, ever. The first time we met, I was fifteen. We’d just moved to Boston and my father had started working for the law firm. In an effort to impress his new boss, Dad dragged me to some high school basketball playoff game. His boss’s son supposedly played the starring jock. We sat a row above Michael’s parents and before the game started, Michael rushed over to talk to his dad, all the while watching me. I remembered his eyes—the color of blue hidden in the deepest part of an iceberg.
I worked the summer between my junior and senior year of high school at the law firm as a filing clerk. Michael had spent the summer in France and when he returned, he worked with me until he started Harvard. He came home for the holidays and our family had been invited to the company Christmas party at their house. By the end of the evening, I’d agreed to go to a New Year’s Eve party with him, and after that, we dated exclusively.
Michael took advantage of my naïve view of life. Handsome and charming, not to mention filthy rich, he was a teenage girl’s dream god. Thinking back, there were so many clues I chose to ignore, whispered rumors I dismissed, even when one of those twisted tales came from my best friend, Delany. She’d secretly gone to a party with Michael when I was sick with strep throat and couldn’t go.
Delany shied away from me after that and whenever I wanted to gush about Michael, she changed the subject. After my high school graduation, Michael started talking marriage and Delany confessed, warning me Michael had a dark side. When she accused him of being a pervert I cut off our friendship. A month later, Michael assaulted me in his bedroom. I had no one to tell. Michael had destroyed all my friendships, being especially pleased to discover Delany had been the last casualty.
A moment of reckoning slapped. Delany knew about Michael because she’d been one of his victims!
Michael’s hands squeezed mine and I realized the preacher whispered my name. “Taylor? Your vows to Michael?” the preacher asked.
Heat flushed my cheeks. “Sorry.” So very sorry for so many wrongs I’d never get to fix.
My eyes locked on Michael’s. His lips curved into a half smile and I took a deep breath, letting my imagination change his face to Riley’s. Time for the performance of my lifetime.
“Finding true love,” I began, “is like rising from the cold depths of a dark pond. When your face breaks through the water’s surface, the sun warms your skin. Your eyes open and discover the love of your life standing there watching over you with eyes full of compassion and arms waiting to enfold you. A strong protective embrace, but soft enough to hold your fragile heart without breaking it. Someone who’ll never hurt you or force you to become anything other than who you are.”
Tears filled my eyes and anger filled Michael’s. He knew not one blessed word I poetically professed, belonged to him. I didn’t give a damn and to prove my point, I gave him the warmest loving smile I could manage. Even batted my eyelashes.
His brow cocked sharply. Payback would come, but I didn’t think it would be now.
“You know,” Michael announced to the room with an alluring lilt, “I have no words that can match the beauty of those my darling bride has confessed to me. Nothing as magical or thought provoking. No prose can come close.”
He faced a confused preacher. “Let’s skip all the traditional bullshit and go straight to the part where you declare Taylor is mine—just don’t forget that little part about her promising to always obey.”
Thirty-Five
ROCK JUSTICE
Riley
Fuck! No! I reached into my pocket for my phone and grabbed the rock instead. I rolled the stone inside my hand until I formed a tight fist over it.
Damn you Michael! Damn you Dad!
I surveyed the scene from my limited portal. Taylor begged Michael to say his vows as if she knew help was on the way and needed to stall just a few more minutes. The expression on Michael’s face revealed absolute power and he savored the taste of control. Taylor’s proclamation of love for me pushed him over the edge. Her words took him beyond angry and me, over the top with elation, but put Taylor in real danger. Rage colored Michael’s face bright red.
I pulled my phone from my other pocket. Still nothing! I’d ran out of options.
Or had I?
Cupping the stone like a small baseball, I flexed my wrist to judge the weight. I’d played a lot of baseball and usually from the position of “pitcher.” From where I stood, Michael would be an easy target. With just the right spin and precision release, the stone would hone in on the target—Michael’s head. But if I missed? If the arc didn’t curve high enough or the velocity too slow, I’d miss the demon and hit Taylor. I couldn’t chance that happening. Nevertheless, I had to do something to stop the wedding…halt the words from sealing Taylor’s fate.
Michael pulled Taylor roughly against him, facing the officiator who uttered a few standard phrases. I juggled the rock between my hands, waiting for the vibration in my pocket or the doors to burst open, feeling only silent abandonment. The preacher peered out into the crowd. Desperation carved sharp angles in his face. He no more wanted them married than I did.
“Is there anyone with us today who can find just cause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony?”
My gaze turned to Lydia Daniels. Why didn’t she jump up and protest? She knew everything I did, even more. She saw all the pictures. Surely she said something to Taylor’s parents. Why didn’t they stop this sham of a ceremony? Did Michael really wield that much power? Or did Taylor? Did she view a marriage to Michael as a security blanket for everyone in her family, not just for her father?
The thought brought my constant simmering anger to a raging boil. She was only eighteen years old! How could her family use her like this? Why should Taylor be the one sacrificed? Damnit!
The preacher’s voice cracked. “If so, let him speak now, or forever hold his piece.”
My cue. The cell phone buzzed in my pocket, but a second too late. The rock had left my hand.
Thirty-Six
HELL BREAKS LOOSE
Taylor
A sticky bead of sweat trickled between my breasts. My breaths turned short, ragged, and forced. The preacher’s face dissolved into a million twinkling stars and I felt my legs turn to liquid. My God! This was really happening! Only a few words remained before I would officially become Mrs. Michael Barnes—my freedom finally taken, my life caged, and my body someone else’s to use or abuse as he deemed fit.
A torrent of nausea coiled in my stomach, climbing into the back of my throat. If I didn’t pass out soon, I’d project something vile all over the preacher. I dropped my head, hoping his shoes would take the brunt of my reaction to being pronounced “Man and Wife.” Master and Slave.
The preacher’s next question announced my ending neared.
“Is there anyone with us today who can find just c
ause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony?”
Michael fused my body to his, purposely placing his hand at the side of my breast. A declaration of ownership by publicly feeling me up in front of the altar of a church! What an ass! Surely my mom saw? My dad? The preacher? Why didn’t someone race up the aisle and punch Michael for demeaning me like this? Rescue me? Save me? Kill Michael?
Did I have no hero? Please, please…
I fisted the skirt of my beautiful dress—the one I exchanged for the monstrosity Michael chose, just to prove I had some say in my wedding. I stared at the lace edge, kissing the burgundy carpet, the crystal beads shimmering like tiny diamonds. I felt beautiful and deserving of much better than this. Whether or not I’d ever be worthy of someone like Riley again I wasn’t sure, but my self-worth meant more to me than wasting what little I still owned on an jerk like Michael.
I pushed Michael’s hand down with my elbow, feeling a retaliatory pinch to my side. I didn’t care. We were in a public setting—one full of the elite of Boston’s society. Turning me into a punching bag in front of his parents would never happen.
Neither would this marriage. Dad was right. I did not have to do this. My mother might die of embarrassment, but she’d recover. My father’s finances would suffer a blow, although his ability to pay if he loses his job may prove a problem. But not my problem. This was my life and if I didn’t take charge now, I’d never be able to look at myself in a mirror again.
The last plea stuck in the preacher’s throat. “If so, let him speak now, or forever hold his piece.”
I lifted my head high, ready to declare my freedom and damn anyone who stood in my way. My mouth opened to shout “No!” but a scream raced across my tongue when a loud bang permeated the silent tension.
Life happened in slow motion, the moments shifted in still increments. Glistening shards of brightly colored glass twisted and curled on their way to the ground. Everyone cowered, shielding their faces from being sliced by the beautiful, razor sharp pieces spreading over the crowd.
Michael’s mother stumbled over his father, holding tightly to the peacock feathered hat adorning her head. She fell and rolled across the aisle, exposing her lavender panties when her skirt ripped up the back. How pretentious could she be? Her underwear coordinated with her silk suit. The heel broke off her shoe, becoming airborne and hitting an unsuspecting “social butterfly” in the nose, spattering blood droplets on those nearby. I watched in horror as the tiny ruby dots appeared suspended in air.
Michael’s voice, a low warble, stretched my name in a distorted pitch. I spun away from the claws reaching from the sleeves of his tuxedo. Bundling my cloud of lace and chiffon under my arms, my legs lifted me over the crumpled, shrieking Mrs. Barnes, past her bleeding victim, and somehow, I twirled between my parents’ outstretched arms.
My heels smacked the floor hard jarring me out of slow motion and into present panic mode. Luckily, my brain connected with the fact I’d escaped the mayhem behind me and didn’t even pause long enough to turn around. I just ran.
Something came from the side with such force it knocked me to the ground, pushing the air from my lungs in a painful swoosh. When I inhaled, tears burned the back of my eyes and my heart pinched. The heady scent of cologne swamped me, bringing a sense of peace and wonderment. BLVGARI.
Riley!
Somewhere inside the pillow of sparkling chiffon encapsulating us, his arms held me firmly against his chest, my cheek vibrating against the heavy pounding of his heart. I was about to raise my head to make sure the lips adorning my hair with thousands of tiny kisses truly belonged to my imagined savior, when one voice shattered the spell and turned my body to stone.
Michael.
“You! I am going to break every bone in your fucking body!”
Riley covered me—my super-hero shield. Another loud commotion; something broke, smashed in the background, which brought a flurry of new screams. The floor vibrated from the thud of bodies dropping or running.
“Freeze!” Echoed with the force of a cannon shot inside the chapel, followed by what sounded like a million clicks. Silence…thick and deafening. The world eddied into blackness.
Thirty-Seven
AFTERSHOCKS
Riley
I sat. I stood. I paced then sat again. A spider busied itself spinning an intricate silken web in the corner of the tiny window high above my head. Dust particles churned in the patch of sunlight I passed through.
What the hell was going on? I’d been sequestered in this room for over an hour and no one had come. Not Dad, Jax, or any other member of the militia firing squad who broke down the doors of the chapel. Between the splintered wood and shattered glass, the holy sanctuary looked like a bomb had exploded.
The curtains keeping me hidden were shredded and pulled from the heavy bars holding them when Michael tried to escape, summoning the S.W.A.T. officers to follow him into the narrow passage way. Padded and heavily armed, wearing boots large enough to crush small children, I watched in amazement as they moved with the ease of ballerinas, leaping, jumping, and twisting over benches, through ribbon wrapped floral arrangements, and totally freaked out wedding guests, before cornering the cowering bastard dressed in the designer tux. Next to hearing Taylor whisper my name when she realized I held her, the snapping sound of the cuffs locking around Michael’s wrists was music to my ears.
When the idiot purposely spit on Taylor’s dress as he walked by, Dad’s hands clamped my shoulders. But his weren’t as fast as Mr. Barnes’s, who leveled a fast, powerful blow to the side of his son’s jaw. “Terms of endearment” were shouted between father and son. Michael’s father ended up in cuffs, too, when he tried to pull out Michael’s gelled, coifed hair.
I just bent tighter over Taylor, shielding her with my body. She went limp in my arms and I knew she probably fainted, but until that asshole had been officially removed, I wasn’t letting anyone near her. Even then, my dad and Jax pried my arms from her waist and restrained me from running after the gurney carrying her away. Her eyes locked open, holding mine in a watery gaze, but she remained silent, dazed. Dad said she was in shock, but would be all right.
I couldn’t be as sure.
**
The door opened and a large man filled the space. The one I recognized as Taylor’s father.
“Son, do you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking when you decided to take on the world this afternoon? Have you any idea the damage you’ve caused, not to mention the repercussions something of this magnitude will generate? The grounds are swarming with news crews, the chapel is in a shambles, and the stained glass window that earmarked this church is shattered.”
He bounced the weapon in this hand. The rock I threw without giving a second thought when I aimed it at the window above Michael’s head. The felonies piled up, but I didn’t give a damn. The sand disappeared in the hourglass and something had to be done to stop the wedding. Something epic. Like a rock hurling through a window and sending glass exploding everywhere, giving Taylor the opportunity to choose Michael or freedom.
Unbridled joy and excitement filled me when she took off running away from everyone, even her parents. The communication system inside my brain malfunctioned and no longer received common sense signals, when I bolted from my hiding place for Taylor. I vaguely remember Lydia Daniels screaming, but Michael ran for Taylor and I was hell-bent on not letting him ever put his hands on her again.
However, I misjudged my speed and strength when I reached the runaway bride, sending us both crashing to the floor. I’d barely got my arms around her body, buried in the layers of lace and fluffy fabric, crushing her face protectively to my chest when Michael’s fist aimed for her. The bruise on my shoulder would eventually heal and the bones in Taylor’s face were saved.
Michael grabbed my jacket and when Taylor’s father reached for him, he let go of me to swing a punch his direction. The double doors in the back of the chapel burst open, one actually
dropping from its hinges into a mangled pile of wooden slats. A small army of dark clothed officers pointing guns appeared. I’d never been so glad to hear my father bellow the command “freeze!”
My thoughts swirled back with the smacking sound of the stone slapping the skin of Mr. Wilson’s hand. I watched the rock go up then down, almost falling into a hypnotic trance. When Taylor’s father finished listing the evidences of destruction, he paused.
“So you fancy yourself a ‘Sampson going up against a Goliath’?”
“Maybe. I just needed to save Taylor.”
“And so you did. My daughter is safe because of you.” He held his hand out. “Richard Wilson. It’s an honor to meet a young man of your caliber, Mr. Martin. My daughter is a lucky girl to have someone like you in her life.”
Not really, I thought. Lucky would mean I believed Taylor in the first place and had pulled my biblical stunt the minute I met Michael Barnes.
“Is she okay? She wouldn’t talk to me.”
“Taylor’s in shock and emotionally spent. Her mother took her home to rest.”
“Can I see her?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. The trauma of what’s happened coupled with the embarrassment she feels, may be too much for her. As her father, I’m not willing to risk it. Surely, you understand.”
“No, as a matter of fact I don’t. We love each other.”
“Well,” his tongue clicked the back of his throat, “that may be true, but I still forbid it. If at some future time Taylor wants to contact you, she will.”
Mr. Wilson took my hand and dropped the stone into my palm. “I recommend you hide that.”
“How did you know it was this rock?”
“Until you just told me, it was an educated guess. Baseball was my chosen sport in high school. There aren’t any other rocks in the garden below the broken window that could have carried that much force.” He handed me a business card. “I’ve got a feeling you may need a lawyer. I’d like to help, but call the cell phone number. I suspect my job has been terminated with my current law firm.”
Riley's Pond (New Adult Romance) Page 24
