by Skye Turner
Cruz suffered a concussion and needed some stitches, but it could have been much worse. Tif stayed at the house with him and his mother and I called Bently in to finish the shift with me.
Those damn Bellaforte sisters seem to keep men on their toes!
I realize I’m once again thinking about AnnaBeth, even though I swore I was done with that.
You’re fucking hopeless, Ty.
Why are you pining over the one woman that doesn’t want you?
Shit, think about all of the ones who do! Like this chick on the beer cart who’s been shooting a come hither smile at me all day.
Yeah right. I’m not even interested.
Dammit!
Bently slaps me on the shoulder and it causes me to jump with a start. I shrug his hand off and grunt at him.
He laughs. “Earth to Ty. Where were you, man?”
I grimace and roll my shoulders. They’re tight from the restrained tension that thinking about AnnaBeth causes to build.
He hums. “Ah, the princess…”
Glaring at him, I step around him and take my shot on the 18th hole. It goes way wide and ends up in the pond. He laughs. “Damn, Ty. You suck ass today!”
Muttering under my breath about what an asshole he is, I head to the cart. After slinging my clubs in the back, I start it and call out, “If you want a ride back to the clubhouse, I suggest you shut up and swing.”
Remy laughs and slings his arm around the beer cart girl. “That’s ok, dude. If you leave us, they’ll bring us back. Right, ladies?”
They giggle and nod.
Bently takes his shot and it lands on the green. It was a great shot. That pisses me off. Putting the cart in motion, I leave them on the course.
Remy and Bently’s laughter follows me down the trail.
An hour later, we’re heading across town to Brewbacher’s to grab some sandwiches. The guys are good naturedly ribbing me and I’m just grunting in response.
We order our food and settle at the table with our beer bottles and some fried pickles as we wait for the rest of the food.
Bently kicks back in his chair and points at me with his beer bottle. “You Sir, need to snap out of this pissy mood. You’re acting like a bitch on her rag.”
I pop a pickle into my mouth in response.
Remy leans his elbows on the table and chuckles. “Seriously, Ty. This surly asshole is not you. Whatever has you by the balls… you need to let them breathe. Snap out of it.” He takes a sip of his beer and regards me over the neck. “I’m not asking you your business, because I figure if you want me to know, then you’ll tell me. But… something has you wound up so tight you’re about to explode. This is not you. You are not this morose, brooding, unhappy dude. You never have been. So whatever the hell has you acting like this, you need to get rid of it or fix it.”
I glare at him. “Ok, Dr. Phil.”
He laughs. “No, I have all of my hair, bro.” He pats his closely cropped scalp. “I choose to keep it neat and tight. And I would never presume to butt into people’s lives. Yet, you are my buddy, and honestly, you suck to be around lately.”
I shred the napkin I’m holding and glare at him. “So, don’t be around me.”
He glares back at me. “You need to get over yourself. If this is about that girl, then either get her ass back or move on with your life. But no, I’m not leaving you to brood and piss everyone who cares about you off anymore.”
Bently says seriously, “Honestly, Ty. This is not you and as your friends, we’re concerned.”
Remy points at me. “You’re Ty Motherfucking Boudreaux! Act like it!”
I mutter, “I am Ty Motherfucking Boudreaux.”
Bently cheers and says, “We’re going out tonight. And you are going to dance and drink and have a good time if it fucking kills you! You hear me, man?!”
I nod.
They’re right. I do need to snap out of this funk. I suck lately.
We spend the rest of the afternoon drinking beer and playing darts in the bar before we head to our respective homes to get ready to go out.
I’m determined to have a good time with my friends.
It’s time for me to start living again.
I’m Ty Motherfucking Boudreaux and I fucking rock.
*
AnnaBeth
I get home and grab the ring off my dresser. Taking the box from the closet, I slip it back into its velvet home. Then, I go out to the maze and retrieve my phone. Forty-seven missed calls and just as many texts. Damn, I still have battery?!
“Stanton
AnnaBeth, you cannot just walk out on me after speaking to me that way. Come back this instant.”
“Stanton
I am not leaving this room until you return. I will not leave without you on my arm. What will people say?”
“Stanton
You’re acting like a petulant child. I’m going home, but you need to call me right now. This behavior is unacceptable.”
“Stanton
AnnaBeth Bellaforte, I will not be embarrassed this way. People are asking questions and I refuse to feed into their gossip. Do you know who I am? I will not be ignored.”
Rolling my eyes, I delete the rest of them without reading them. Sorry buddy, you’re about to have to answer a whole shitstorm of questions.
After grabbing the velvet box and my keys, I slip my phone in my purse and head up to the mansion.
As I park, I see Stanton’s black Audi in the driveway. Sighing, I muster up my courage. Better to just tackle it all at once anyway.
I make my way into the house and hear the raised voices from the library. As I approach the door, I hear Stanton’s irate voice. “Sir, this is unacceptable. I don’t know what she’s doing lately, but I cannot have her acting this way. I am a public figure and as my fiancée, her behavior is reprehensible.”
My father calmly says, “Yes, she has been acting absurdly obtuse lately.”
My hackles instantly rise.
How DARE he talk about me that way! I am his daughter and until now, I’ve always done exactly as he wished. I was the dutiful daughter. Even when it meant forsaking myself.
No more!
With a burst of adrenaline, I walk into the room with my head held high. I take in the scene. My father and Stanton are near his desk while my mother wrings her hands by the mantle and Grandma Clarabelle sits in a chair with a crossword puzzle. My heels clacking on the hardwood floor have all four pairs of eyes turning toward me.
I smile blandly. “Hello, everyone. I apologize for missing this apparent family meeting.”
My father bellows, “Where have you been, AnnaBeth?” while Stanton glares at me. “You have some explaining to do and it had better be good.”
I arch my brows and walk to the settee where I sit and cross my legs as I regard the men who are staring at me in annoyance.
My mother is looking from me to them and my Grandma is hiding a slight smile. I look at her and she winks. Her support gives me the strength I need to do what I’m about to do.
I rest my hands on my knees as I watch both men watch me. When I say nothing, they both look confused. Finally, my father says, “AnnaBeth, what is the meaning of this?”
Uncrossing my legs, I lean up and set the velvet box in the center of the coffee table. Stanton stares at it in disbelief.
My mother gasps and my father’s eyes bug out.
Stanton’s voice is strangled as he spits out, “What the hell is that?”
I look at him calmly, though my heart is racing and my blood is roaring through my veins. “It’s your ring.”
He sputters, “What? What the hell are you talking about?” He looks at my hand and notices the absence of the ring. “What the hell are you doing? Put that back on, right this instant.”
I chuckle and all eyes level on me. “I won’t be doing that. In fact, you can take it. I won’t be marrying you, Stanton.”
My father screams out so suddenly, I jump and screech in alarm. “Wh
at is the meaning of this, AnnaBeth? Are you mad?”
Taking a deep breath to quell my nerves, I reply. “No, I can assure you, I am quite sane. In fact, for the first time in a long time, I’m making the choice to live for me.”
My mother gasps again and my father looks at me in ire. “You’re not making any sense, AnnaBeth.”
Stanton grabs the box and shoves it back at me. “No, we are getting married. You accepted and everyone expects a wedding. There will be a wedding.”
I gasp at him. He’s insane. I shake my head. “No, there won’t be. I will not be marrying you, Stanton. I don’t love you.”
He laughs harshly. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?! I don’t love you either, but we are a great political match. This union needs to take place.”
I’m speechless. Does he hear himself?
Shaking my head, I say sadly, “I’m not a politician and I will not marry you. I’m not some trophy to be presented to help you look better. I deserve more than that. I will get married one day. But not anytime soon and certainly not to you. I deserve love. I’m not settling for anything else.”
His face turns bright purple as rage crosses his face. “You selfish little bitch! You can’t do this to me. You won’t do this to me. You’re no one and I’m Stanton Menchiron. I will be the president of the United States one day.”
Turning to my father, he rages, “You talk some sense into your idiot daughter! Make her see that this is happening! I will not be rejected this way! Not by some simpering girl with no purpose!”
I can’t believe he’s speaking to me this way. Actually I can, he’s a pompous ass, but seriously… he’s nuts, too.
My father is looking at him and the look on his face sends chills down my spine. He grabs Stanton’s arm and pulls him. “You will not speak to my daughter this way. You are in my home as a guest and you will not disrespect my family in this manner. Your welcome has expired. It’s time for you to leave. You aren’t welcome back.”
What? Is my father taking up for me? With Stanton? But, he pushed me at him and wanted the union.
This doesn’t make any sense.
Am I dreaming?
I blink a few times, but the scene is the same.
Grandma Clarabelle calls out from her chair, “She’s spoken her piece and made her choice. A gentleman would respect that.
“Oh, and Stanton… if you attempt to tarnish my granddaughter’s name or reputation in any way, shape, or form… you won’t be able to get a job in Louisiana flipping burgers, much less in politics.” She smiles at him coldly. The fact that she means what she says is clearly written on her face. “Do you hear me, boy?”
He sputters more and glares at me as he yanks his arm from my father. Muttering under his breath, he stomps down the hall.
Grandma hollers out one last thing, “I wouldn’t try me, Stanton. My reach runs far and my pockets are deep. You’re a street rat compared to me. You don’t want the Bellafortes as an enemy.”
The door slams behind him.
My father just stares at me and my mother looks uneasily from me to my father. Grandma smiles into our faces. “Your daughter just made the right choice, Richmond. You’d do well to support her in it. Can you imagine that weasel actually being a part of this family? And Rosalind, close your mouth, you’ll let the flies in.” She claps. “Well, who wants some afternoon coffee or tea?”
I can’t help it. I laugh.
Soon, everyone is laughing and my heart is instantly lightened.
That went so much easier than I expected.
But… Is Daddy just going to let it go?
No one says anything else about it as we drink our coffee and Grandma has tea.
Eventually Momma and Daddy leave and it’s just Grandma Clarabelle and me in the library.
She looks at me and smiles. “I’m proud of you, girl. I knew you had it in you. I don’t know what brought the fire out, but whatever… or whomever it is… you need to hold onto that.” She gives me a knowing look.
I blush and look at my hands.
She doesn’t know… She doesn’t.
Does she?
She says nothing else and eventually she dozes off. I head back to my house to call Coralee and fill her in on what happened and the fact that I’m no longer engaged.
I’m free!
I’m really and truly free!
Chapter Ten
Ty
Wearing my Buckle jeans and Affliction tee, I stroll through the door of Mustangs, making sure to fist bump the bouncer. We’re regulars here, so he knows us well. Bently and Remy follow behind me, much to the dismay of the people standing in line outside. One line-goer calls out, “Why do they get to cut the line? Who the hell are they?”
I don’t hear Buckie’s reply, but I hear the chuckles from outside, so I’m sure it was adequately sarcastic.
It’s a packed house tonight.
There’s a local hotshot band taking the stage in about half an hour. I’ve heard them here before. They’re good. That’s going to mean a lot of ladies are in the house tonight.
Maybe I can find a nice one to spend a little time with. I’m not planning on going home with anyone. Hell, I did enough of that a few months back to last me a long while. But, I can find a pretty girl to dance with and buy a few drinks for. Maybe have some interesting conversation. I’m not adverse to some making out, but I don’t see me leaving with anyone tonight.
Not sure I’m down with that yet.
I think it’s time I find someone I can actually date so there’s a chance at that happily ever after I actually want.
Bently heads to the bar to grab us some drinks, as Remy and I head to the dance floor area where there appears to be one table near the band that is not occupied.
We near the table and I do a double take. Is that the movie star guy? Nah, can’t be. Must just be a look alike? Though, I did hear that he’s filming in town, so who actually knows.
Remy reaches the table first and asks the group, “Hey, y’all using this table, too?”
A blond with long hair and loads of tattoos, looks us over and grins. “Nah, it’s yours.”
We nod our thanks and pull out the stools as we crowd watch for a minute. Bently soon weaves his way through the packed crowd with our beers over his head so they’re not jostled.
As he gets to the table, he passes the beers out. He whistles. “It’s a madhouse in here tonight.”
I nod. “Yeah, apparently flAme RioT can pack the place.”
He laughs. “I’ll say. Maybe they’ll let me on stage with them.”
Remy slaps the table. “You can’t sing for shit, dude!”
Bently laughs and says, “Who needs to sing when you look like this?”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh and scan the dance floor. I needed this. I needed a night out with my boys just to remember what it’s like to cut up and have a good time.
We holler over the music and drink our beers. A waitress comes over and we order another round as we wait for the band to take the stage.
They go on late, but once they start up, the bar erupts. They are damn good. The table next to us appears to be their girlfriends and entourage.
We listen to a few songs and I’m about to head onto the dance floor. I see a couple of girls who look like they can use a partner when Bently grabs my shoulder. His face is shocked and he looks at me in apology. Following his gaze, I see what has him uneasy.
AnnaBeth Bellaforte is in the middle of the dance floor in a short dress that hugs her small frame and pushes up her boobs. It looks flame red under the lights. Her blonde hair is loose and it’s trailing down her back.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Shaking my head, I look at him and shrug. I can ignore her. I can totally ignore her. No problem.
Sure you can…
No, I totally can. I’m just going to walk right past her and ask those girls to dance with us. Same plan. Nothing has changed.
I’m not playing games tonigh
t.
Isn’t attempting to ignore her when you know damn well you can’t… a game?!
Shut the fuck up.
I’ve got this under control.
She hasn’t seen us, so I’m able to watch her. I can’t help it. She’s so beautiful and it’s like my gaze is immediately drawn to her. I’m a moth to her flame. And I know she can burn me. She already has.
Bently is watching me and Remy is smirking. He nods. “Guess that’s your princess, huh?”
I glare at him, but I nod. “Yup, that’s the princess of the glass house.”
Bently grins at me. “I think you should throw a rock.”
I smirk. “Yeah. I’m kinda thinking I need to pitch one that way, too.”
Thought you weren’t going near her?
Sucker…
Shut the hell up.
Swiping my beer from the table top, I stroll in her direction. As I get close, I stop and watch her. I stop about three feet away so when she pans the crowd, she’ll see me.
And… Five… Four… Three… Two… One…
Jackpot.
I can’t hear her, but I see her gasp as she spots me. Her eyes go wide and she tightens her hands on her tiny purse. I smile at her. She just stares for a brief minute, then her lips curve up slightly in response.
Is she smiling at me? What’s going on?
She almost looks… HAPPY to see me!?
Taking a step toward her, I watch her watch me stalk her. Stopping right in front of her, I lean down and stop at her ear. I see her shiver at my proximity. “Fancy meeting you here… princess.”
She leans back and smiles sexily up at me.
What the fuck? AnnaBeth is the poised, polished socialite. She is not the fiery, flirtatious vixen.
What’s going on here?
A guy bumps into her from behind and his hands move across her stomach and stop near her hip. Before I can think about it, I grab his hand and fling it off of her.
She looks at me with wide eyes and he looks over her shoulder with blood-shot eyes. He holds his hands up in apology. I nod and he turns away.
