by T. A. Grey
Opening her cellphone, she found a text. Her heart raced seeing whom it was from.
Be there soon. Miss you, p.
He’d taken to shortening princess into ‘p’ for texting purposes. She found she didn’t mind whatsoever; in fact, she found herself increasingly enjoying her newfound nickname--one which only he used--it was like their little secret.
Hurry. I have a surprise for you.
Damn. I’m toast, aren’t I?
Maybe.
She had a full-fledged grin by time she tucked her phone away.
“What’s that smile for?” Kaity teased.
“Oh nothing,” she lied.
“It has to do with Alex, doesn’t?” Kaity always knew when she wasn't being honest. Sisters had the effect, she supposed.
Hanna's mouth fought not to smile. “No,” she replied indignantly.
“Baloney."
Ice-cold margaritas were delivered. An entire pitcher just for them. This was better than a Mardi gras party. The music was blaring gold old rock ’n roll and the night was just getting started.
Time ticked by. Hanna found herself counting down, toes tapping nervously as she waited for Alex to show. Ah hell, she was acting like a schoolgirl going on her first date. She should stop being so ridiculous. But she couldn't help it. She was rather madly in love with the man. He'd made her nervous before, long before they'd ever shared their first kiss, or touched hands. He was the kind of man you’d notice in the room, always mentally cataloging him. Ah, yes, there's Alex, better stay away from that side of the room. Her former mentality had changed a full one-eighty.
Now she couldn't wait for him to arrive.
The bar door swung open and heads turned to see who’d arrived. Hanna’s neck careened eyes wide...only to deflate into astonishment.
Kaity gasped, a hiss-like sound. “Who invited them?”
No one did, that was the answer. They'd decided to show and she knew why right away. Because Tom was the perfect privileged man. What did he care that he'd dare to show at the welcoming party for his ex, whom he'd cheated on repeatedly?
Hanna's first reaction upon seeing Tom on the arm of the florist girl was jaw-clenching anger. How dare he come here with her? How dare he come here at all? To her and Alex’s celebration? The nerve of the man was astounding. Her head cocked to the side, mouth agape and eyes baffled so that one would think she'd just witnessed an alien walk into the room. Well, that was about close to what she thought of her ex.
Then he looked over at her and gave the old wave-and-smile routine. As if they were neighbors out watering the lawn together and he happened to spot her.
She wanted to barf. Hanna swiftly excused herself, coming to a stand.
Kaity tugged on her hand. “Don’t go. He’s not worth it.”
She smiled trying to play it cool even as her joy diminished completely to be replaced by negativity. The same feelings he always evoked in her. “I’m just going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” That placated Kaity and Alicia’s worried looks for now.
Hanna sneaked back the long hallway to the bathrooms. Inside, two other girls congratulated her while they reapplied lipstick and talked about working long hours. Hanna smiled at them before escaping into an empty stall.
She sat on the toilet and blotted her leaking eyes.
Fuck. She didn't want to ruin her nice makeup that Kaity had helped apply. That girl was like a wizard with the stuff.
Overheated. Angry. Fists formed and needed to lash out. She wanted to scream. Seeing him with her...twisted her insides. She shouldn’t even care right? But why did it still feel like a slap to the face? As if he was flaunting his infidelity right in her face on a day of celebration for her and Alex. It was just too much.
Hanna wordlessly screamed her anger and beat her hands against her thighs until a buzzing caught her attention. Taking a deep breath, she opened her phone once more. Her purse vibrated against her. She checked the phone.
I’m here but you’re not, p. Where r u?
She didn’t answer, just tucked the phone away and dried her face. It took a minute to compose herself, before flushing the empty toilet bowl. Her reflection made her feel even more dismal. The overly bright fluorescent lights made the circles under her eyes appear garish and ugly. The dress suddenly seemed to make her look too wide and unflattering. Fat, she believed was the word. And for a minute, all she wanted to do was escape out back. Run back home and climb into bed.
Angry at herself and at her reflection, she gave the mirror her back and took one last deep breath, then she stepped back out into the hallway and into the real world.
Only to come face to face with Tom Bower.
Fucking hell.
Could she not escape this sack of shit?
She chuckled quite suddenly. Never once had she thought such negative thoughts of Tom, she’d never mentally called him names like that. It somehow made him appear so much smaller than she ever would have imagined.
He’s a sack of shit, she thought again, giggling this time, straight into his face.
Tom laughed a bit too, as if they were sharing a joke. Her sides began to hurt and suddenly all the negative worries she’d just dissipated. This man...he was nothing and she had nothing to be afraid of.
“Hanna, it’s good to see you.” He looked her up and down, smiling. The florist girl was nowhere in sight. In fact, the hall was vacant and she wished someone would meander down here.
“That’s nice,” she said blithely.
His eyebrow cocked in surprise. She didn’t used to give him attitude. She’d always taken his shit and then taken it some more. Luckily, she’d been through some things, and the last thing she’d give him now was her submissiveness.
“So how are you? I’m glad to see you’ve returned intact and looking quite fit I might add.”
Ugh, please spare me the slime. She shivered at his creepily sensual tone and said nothing.
He adjusted his collar, something he did when nervous.
“Um, right, so I heard you’re selling our house. I’ve been thinking about buying it.”
Our house. If that just didn’t make her gag. Hanna rolled her eyes and looked away. If she wasn’t giving off I-don’t-care signals then she didn’t know what would. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I could even move in there soon, of course it won’t be the same without you, Hanna.”
He reached for her as if to touch her. Maybe just a hand on the arm sort of casual how's your partner?
Yet, the action astounded her.
She was not hallucinating.
He actually reached for her as if he’d touch her, skin to skin, for real. Her jaw dropped in amazement and he saw her horrified expression and dropped his hand like dead weight.
“Oh, uh, sorry. Um...this is strange but, damn you look amazing. Very sexy.” He blinked rapidly and her lip curled in disgust. Now she gave him the full weight of her glare. Speaking not a word. Let him dig his own grave. “Right so... I mean this might sound crazy but what do you say to--”
He never got a chance to finish. She raised her palm and shoved it in his face, abruptly halting every stupid thing he was about to say. He looked stunned. She’d never been so bold before. So...bitchy...and it felt downright invigorating.
“Listen here, Tom, and listen well because I’m only gonna say it once. You and I are done in every way imaginable. No longer are you even a thought that crosses my mind. You are simply a blimp of my past. Like a bad illness I don’t want to remember. I don’t want you to talk to me ever again. And please, oh please, never try to lay a hand on me unless you want me to vomit on your ugly shoes.”
“But---”
“Never again. Hear me?”
Any kindness in his face vanished, contorting into an angry mask. He took a step closer, invading her space and forcing her to either crane her neck to meet his gaze or take a step back. And she wasn’t backing down. She glowered at him, challenging him, daring him to say something else
A presence suddenly came to her side. Startled, she looked over and found Alex standing there like her own personal warrior. If she had been glaring at Tom then the expression on Alex’s face could only be described as ready-to-destroy. A menacing growl crackled in the back of his throat.
Alex peered at her. He didn’t touch her but stood close by. “Hey, babe. This asshole bothering you? He’s standing awfully close.” He took a step into Tom’s private space and Tom got flustered and moved back. He blinked rapidly.
“No, no, everything’s cool.” He rubbed at his face, likely remembering the last time he’d had an encounter with Alex and Alex had hit him so hard he’d gone sprawling across the room nearly taking out a wall in the process.
Alex flashed Tom a grin that bordered on a snarl. “Good. Babe, I’ll see you back at our table, yeah? You’re handling this I see.” He kissed her cheek and whispered something in her ear that made her smile so big she blushed.
Tom looked disgruntled to say the least.
Alone again, Hanna held her chin high. “That’s my man. I’m going to mate with him.”
The closest expression of jealously that she’d ever seen crossed Tom’s face, making it even uglier. “That loser? He’s a bum. A nobody. Does he even have a job? Any family?”
Of course he did, but she didn’t need to answer nor justify any of his insecurities over Alex. She knew who was better without a shred of doubt.
Hanna gave him her back, held her head high and for the first time in her life, she walked away from Tom.
Go figure, he’d have something to say. Words spoken out of anger and spite.
“I heard his father used to beat on him real good. Better hope he don't do the same to you.”
She turned to laugh at him, mocking the absurdity of his statement. And boy he didn't like that, his teeth were bared, hair a mess from running his hand through it, and his jacket looked rumpled. How wonderful to see Mr. Perfect get dumped on.
"You're the only one he's ever hit. You don't have to worry about me. Worry about yourself."
With those parting words, she turned and sauntered off with a confident sway to her step.
“Yeah, you better walk away. Whore.”
She nearly stopped. Her heart actually froze a beat, stunned at his audacity to make such an insult. But she wouldn’t give him the time a day. She’d spoken her peace and this man whom she’d spent so many years with meant nothing to her now. His words meant nothing. And he certainly wasn't deserving of her precious time. Not when she had a man like Alex waiting for her.
His hateful comment followed her but she was smiling as she took a seat next to her man at the front table.
Alex wrapped his arm around her and leaned in close to her ear. “I have a million things to say, beginning with what you’re wearing, which should be illegal by the way, but second: You did great there, babe. Never seen anyone handle themselves so cool. So fuckin’ proud of you.”
She gave him a brilliant smile, then cupped his cheeks in front of the whole crowded bar, and laid a kiss on him that soon had hoots and whistles coming at them.
“Thanks baby,” she whispered. “I love you.”
He winked at her, making her blush. “Love you, princess.”
What happened next would go down in MacKellen history as “The Bar Disaster of 2015 featuring Thomas Bower”. For, apparently, Tom was still livid at Hanna's dismissal of him. He stormed into the crowd and found the florist girl and snatched her by the arm rather roughly, which garnered the attention of many folks around him who weren’t so happy with such treatment of a lady. He tried to drag her to the front door. Fatal mistake.
One particularly burly son of a gun stepped forward to block his path.
“Hey there fella, why don’t you ease up that grip. You lookin’ to take someone out to beat on ‘em, I’ll be happy to have a go at ya. Fair and square and the like." He was a big bearded man who looked like he could swell hundred-year-old trees in one strike with those massive shoulders.
“I don’t think so,” Tom said stiffly. “Come on Cameron. Let’s go.”
“I-I don’t think I want to go with you. I want to stay.” The poor girl looked frightened, not that Hanna could blame her. Though Tom had never laid a hand on her, he was more likely to go bang the next tail that wagged his way instead.
The big man smiled kindly at her and told her, if she liked, he could order her food and see her home safely tonight. Wide-eyed she looked uncertain what to do.
“Don’t worry about this pansy, ma’am. I’ve whooped far bigger men then him.” The crowd laughed at his rib.
The girl smiled and moved away from Tom having made her decision.
Tom stood alone. The center of attention in a crowded bar, a furious embarrassment flush on his face.
Good riddance, Hanna thought.
And then, just when she was turning to drink her warming margarita, what would become known as “The Bar Disaster of 2015 featuring Thomas Bower” concluded in a final, swift kick delivered by none other than the florist girl directly to the balls of Tom.
So quickly, you’d think she played soccer, she swung her leg out, catching the whole bar by surprise, and landed him square in the cojones. Tom’s eyes flew open and a look of pain crossed his face. Immediately, he grabbed himself and sagged to his knees on a high-pitched groan.
“I’ll just see you out,” the big man said, grabbing Tom by his collar and dragging him out the front door to a parted sea of cheers.
Hanna sighed dreamily, a happy smile on her face. “This is one of the greatest days of my life,” she admitted.
Alex pulled her closer, rubbing her shoulder. “If you think that’s good then wait ‘till you hear the announcement.”
“What announcement?” she repeated, baffled.
She knew nothing about an announcement.
And why was she suddenly incredibly scared and excited all at the same time?
Alex stood and tapped a knife to his glass calling a hush to the crowd. Once he had everyone’s attention, he smiled. “Thanks everyone. It’s good to see friends and family here celebrating our safe return. I’ll keep this short because I’m not one for many words. So, if you’ll hear me out.” He turned to face Hanna and she wanted to melt into her seat and fade away.
Her face flushed beet red.
What the hell was going on here? Her eyes all but showed her panic.
Alex grinned and shrugged at her. “Hanna MacKellen, I’ve known you nearly my whole life and I’m afraid that just isn’t long enough. There hasn’t been a single woman in my life whom I’ve spoken the words I love you to. You’re the first, baby, and I want you to be the last. You don’t have to say yes, hell, you can even tell me no, but I need to ask you else I might regret it for the rest of my life. And that’s too long to live not knowin’. So, princess, I have to ask you here in front of all your friends and family: will you go to the prom with me?”
The crowd burst out laughing.
Alex, grinning from ear to ear, hushed them. “Nah, of course that’s not what I want to ask her. Hush now, hush.” The crowd grew silent once more, eyes as eager and wide as Hanna’s. She was certain they could hear her rapid heartbeat. The answer already on her face. “Hanna, when a man loves a woman as much as I do you, he only wants one other thing.” He looked directly at her, his smile gone, but his tone sincere, and his eyes honest. “I want to mate with you, lumara. But it’s up to you what we do or don’t do. The power is in your hands. And I’ll wait as long as I have to for your answer. So,” he suddenly dropped to one knee. The crowd gasped, at least, the women did. “Will you be my mate?”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. She was nodding before she even spoke. The answer quick and certain. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Alex smiled at her, his face mostly healed from then scars. “God damn,” was all he said. And then he picked her up before all to see and kissed her.
Whoever knew she’d one day become Hanna Thompson?
“Here, here!” someone said.
“Three cheers for Hanna and Alex. Hip, hip!”
The crowd in unison sang: “Hooray!”
“Hip-hip!”
“Hooray!
Never had she been happier in her whole life.
The party was amazing. One of the best experiences in her life. They kissed, they laughed with friends and family, and then they drank some more. Well, Hanna did. Alex took it far easier.
"I'm driving," he'd explained.
Those were partying words.
Only one other bit of "drama" happened that night. Something that Hanna took notice of, and that was her cousin Jo.
For whatever reason he'd chosen to sit at the far end of the table and all night he hadn't engaged with anyone. She felt as if he didn't even want to be here. His eyes were distant, body tense as stone.
Gavin had told her that someone had taken Jo and imprisoned him before ditching him back at the MacKellen pack and he didn’t know why. Jo hadn't said anything about it. Whatever happened to Jo must've been bad. Real bad.
It was late, after midnight when Jo snapped. And over something so simple too. No one could have seen it coming. Sam, their super attentive waitress, had leaned over Jo's shoulder to put down a beer for the person sitting beside him. Hanna didn’t know what happened. Maybe she'd brushed Jo’s shoulder wrong or maybe Jo just snapped: because suddenly he was standing with a roar and he grabbed Sam's arm viciously before shoving her away.
"Don't ever touch me!"
He’d stood there, his big barrel chest charging in deep breaths, and then he realized the whole crowd had gone silent. Stunned, everyone watched him. Meanwhile Sam rubbed her arm where it would likely bruise. Since when did Jo not like to be touched? And she'd barely touched him if at all.
Hanging his head, Jo left the party. Just turned on his heel and walked out of the bar. Gavin stood to go after him, but Alicia stopped him with a shake of her head.
"He'll tell you when he's ready."
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