by Charli Webb
“Wade suggested moving it to Costa Rica and making it a destination wedding. He insisted on paying for everything as a wedding gift.”
“And she believed him?”
Derek grins and shakes his head. “She did when he reserved the hotel and bought plane tickets for all of us online right there in front of her.”
“Holy shit.” I sink onto the bed and brace my elbows on my knees. “That had to cost a fortune.”
“Seventeen thousand, eight hundred and forty-three dollars to be exact.”
“Can he get his money back?”
“You do know he’s got a trust fund worth millions, right?”
“When is this fake wedding supposed to take place?”
“Spring break.” Derek grins. “Dude, we’re all going to Costa Rica for spring break. Can you believe it?”
“I’m not marrying Anna so you can get a free trip.”
“By the time spring break rolls around, that bitch’ll be history. The first thing Wade did after she went to bed was buy a ticket for Skylar.”
I wish I had Derek’s enthusiasm. And his faith that it was all going to work out. But right now, I’d settle for a few hours of sleep.
“Later, Dude.” Derek bounds down my stairs two at a time then jogs to his car and takes off.
I flop onto my bed and call my supervisor to tell her I’m not feeling well.
“Do you have the same virus as Ms. Jones?”
“Probably.” I have no idea what excuse Anna’s been giving for missing work, but if it worked for her, it’ll work for me.
“Get well quick. We need you. Oh, and congratulations on your engagement.”
Goddamnit, Anna. “Thanks.” I nearly choke on the word.
I feel as if I just fell asleep when my phone goes off. But it’s been five hours. It’s Boone.
“Hey, do you wanna come over and hang out?”
I was wrong. It’s Boone’s phone but Skylar’s voice.
“I’d love to, babe, but this is Anna’s day off. We can’t risk it.”
“Actually, we can. Cherri took her shopping in Denver for wedding gowns. They’ll be gone all day.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Skylar meets me at the door. She wraps her arms around my waist instead of shoulders and gives me a gentle hug. The fact that she can squeeze me at all is good sign.
I run my fingertips up and down her spine. “Feeling better?”
“Much.” She pulls away and takes my hand. “I got some great news today.”
“Please share. I could use some good news.”
She tugs me into the kitchen. Her laptop is on the table with her email account open. “Read it.”
I pull out a chair and sit down then pat my thigh. “If it doesn’t hurt, I’d love for you to sit on my lap.”
She grips my shoulder and lowers herself slowly until her cute little ass is suspended over my lap. “It hurts to use my abs.”
I palm her ass with both hands. “Give me all your weight. I’ll bring you down easy.”
She looks over her shoulder and smirks at me. “You’ll use any excuse to feel me up, won’t you?”
“Do I need an excuse?”
“Nope.” She slips her hand under my shirt and snakes it around to my back. “Neither do I.”
I like where this is going, but Sky wanted to share her good news with me so I read the email message on her laptop. It’s from Rock and River, a local outdoor magazine.
Dear Ms. Layton,
We would like to feature the photo you submitted on the cover of Rock and River’s fall edition. Please read the terms of the attached digital contract and if they are acceptable, sign and return the contract…
There’s more to the message, but I think I got the important part. “You sold one of your photos?”
She grins and nods. “They’re paying me four hundred dollars for the one I shot of Boone, right before he peeled off The Bastille.”
“That’s great, babe. I’m so proud of you. I want to hug you, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t enjoy it very much.”
She offers me her cheek. “I’ll take a kiss instead.”
My damn phone dings just as I’m kissing Skylar’s cheek. “It’s a text from Anna.”
I hold my phone in front of Skylar so she can read it, too.
Check out your Facebook page.
Don’t have one.
You do now. It’s RowdyDaletzki all one word pw is Cowboy.
“Jesus.” The last thing I want to do is go look at some lame-ass webpage.
Skylar whimpers as she scoots her ass around so she’s facing her laptop. I know every little movement hurts like hell. She pants for a few seconds then pulls up the bogus page.
There’s a bunch of shit that makes me want to hurl, including the profile status that I’m engaged to Anna Jones. But it’s the photo album that stops my heart. The first row is pictures of Anna in half a dozen different fluffy wedding dresses, looking like a damn cupcake. But the first photo in the second row isn’t a photo at all. It’s a video titled “My ex is a f***ing Ho-bag.” The thumbnail image is blurry, but Skylar’s back is visible. So is her birthmark.
I know the exact moment Skylar sees it. Her whole body tenses then starts trembling. She’s panting, gasping for air. Shit.
“Sky? Where’s your nebulizer?”
She doesn’t answer.
Fuck. “Is it still in your room?”
Still no answer.
“Boone!” I yell his name at the top of my lungs.
The house is so quiet I can hear his door creak open upstairs. “What the fuck, man? I’m trying to sleep.”
“Get Sky’s nebulizer and medicine and bring it to me, now.”
I can tell by the staccato clunking overhead that he’s racing around. But it’s not fast enough. “Hurry the fuck up.”
My training kicks in and I make the shift from terrified observer to paramedic. “Babe, I need you to stand up so I can get your nebulizer set up. Okay?”
She doesn’t react to me at all.
I slide my hands under her ass and lift her off my lap.
She whimpers. I’m sorry she’s hurting, but relieved she’s at least responsive to pain stimuli.
I scoot out from under her then set her on the chair as gently as I can.
Her gaze is locked on the laptop’s screen.
Fuck. I close it then run to the stairs. Boone meets me on the landing and shoves the nebulizer into my arms. “Is she okay?”
“No.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Skylar
It takes a second for my brain to catch up with what my eyes are seeing. And even then I don’t want to believe it. Rowdy shuts my laptop, but the image is burned into my skull like a brand. My birthmark’s on Facebook. Everyone can see it. Full frontal nudity wouldn’t feel more humiliating than that.
“Okay, Skylar. I need you to open your mouth.”
I do it without thinking. Rowdy puts the nebulizer mouthpiece between my teeth. My lips automatically close around it.
Boone’s voice echoes out of the return air vent in the family room. He’s yelling, swearing and pacing. The thump-clunk of his cast accents his words. “Take it down, Anna, or I swear to god I will fucking kill you!”
Rowdy kneels in front of me and cups my cheeks in his palms. “I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”
I stare into his pale, blue eyes and nod.
“Thank god.” He takes a deep breath then lets it out in a rush.
I try to mimic him, but it hurts too much.
“Sorry, babe. That was just a sigh of relief. Keep breathing nice and slow.”
Nice and slow isn’t easy with so many different emotions warring inside me.
Boone’s still on a rant. “Only a skanky slut would post a video like that. You better take it down before Rowdy sees it.”
I take the mouthpiece out for a second. “You didn’t see the video?”
“I saw it when it was o
n Youtube.” Rowdy tries to guide it back into my mouth but I grab his wrist.
“Youtube? It’s on Youtube?”
“Only for a couple of hours.” He pokes my lips with the plastic tube. “We’ll talk when your treatment’s done.”
I turn my head then bury my face in my hands. “I want to die.”
Rowdy pries my hands off then cups my cheeks. His long fingers wrap around the sides of my head. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever fucking say that again.”
I remember telling him the exact same thing a few hours ago.
“I know you’re embarrassed. But that video is only one out of thousands of humiliating clips that get posted on the internet every day. We’ll get through this, Sky. I promise.”
I gaze into Rowdy’s eyes and find my strength, my courage, my reason to fight until my dying breath.
“If you promise to finish your treatment, I’ll call Wade and ask him if that spy shit came in yet.”
I can tell by his grin that at least some of it has been delivered. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome. The door’s unlocked.”
Rowdy tucks his phone into his pocket. “Wade and Derek are going to install the stationary cameras then bring the pens and watches over here when they’re done.”
As soon as Wade walks through the door, his phone dings phone dings. He gives me a sympathetic smile. “That was a heads up from Cherri. She and Anna are done shopping. They’ll be back in about half an hour, depending on traffic.”
Rowdy groans and presses his fingers against his eyes. “I don’t want to deal with her shit tonight. Someone give me an excuse.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near her, but I think you’re the one most likely to get her to say something incriminating.”
“Actually,” Derek hands me one of the spy pens. “You probably have the best chance of getting admissible evidence.”
Rowdy looks at Derek as if he’s crazy. “Absolutely not.”
“Think about it. Skylar won’t need to bait her. Her presence alone is enough to set that crazy bitch off.”
“Anna’s already tried to kill Skylar. I’m not giving her the chance to try again.”
I agree with Derek, but I know better than to argue with Rowdy when he gets in his overly-protective alpha male mood. I’ll just have to wait for the right moment. “Can I at least have one of those cool gadgets? Just in case Anna runs into me at the grocery store or something?”
“She’s not going to say anything in public.” Rowdy narrows his eyes at me. “I know what you’re thinking and the answer is, no.”
“Fine.” I’ll just borrow Boone’s stuff.
~***~
After just a few weeks, the novelty and excitement of playing spy turns into frustration for all involved. Apparently all Anna wants to talk about is her ‘dreamy, tropical wedding.’
Either she got smart and figured out she was under surveillance or she’s just so blissed out by her fake engagement that I simply dropped off her radar.
Rowdy avoids Anna as much as possible by picking up extra shifts at work but he can’t dodge her twenty-four seven. He never complains about it anymore, but I know it’s stressing him out. I can’t imagine having someone I hate pawing at me all the time.
He came up with a way to keep from kissing Anna by telling her he was saving their first kiss for the altar. Which was freaking brilliant.
He said it pissed her off at first, but she’s one hundred percent onboard with it now.
She’s really playing up the purity angle, dressing modestly, not drinking or swearing or trying to kill people.
Rowdy and I continue to meet secretly whenever we can. Cherri became Anna’s fake BFF so she could help keep her occupied. She and Wade deserve medals for all the sacrifices they’ve made for Rowdy and me.
We still haven’t made love. I don’t want to until this Anna fiasco is over. It’s not so much that I’d feel guilty for having sex with a falsely engaged man. It certainly hasn’t stopped us from making out. I just don’t want anything to tarnish the experience. I know it’s not our first time, but it’ll be the first time in four years. I don’t want to be worrying about whether or not Anna’s going to find out.
We aren’t any closer to a solution than we were three weeks ago. Rowdy is still adamantly opposed to letting me confront Anna, but I’m sick of all the sneaking around. It’s time to shut this show down. And it needs to be tonight.
Rowdy and Derek are working, Wade and Cherri are at the Louisville Street Fair, Boone’s bar hopping in Denver. Anna’s shift ends in ten minutes. With all of my self-appointed protectors otherwise engaged, it’s now or never.
I put on my shortest skirt and my lowest cut tank then check myself out in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my door. Not too bad. A firm tug on the hem of my tank reveals the lacy top of my fire-engine red push-up bra. Hey, look at that. I have cleavage.
A pair of stilettos would complete the outfit, but I don’t own any. Even if I did, I think I’d rather wear my ass-kicking, Tony Lama boots for this little rendezvous. Or my Nike running shoes. This will definitely be a fight or flight situation.
I decide on the boots.
I use the key Rowdy gave me to get into his room. He had to start locking his door to keep Anna out. I turn on all the lights so Anna will think he’s home then lie down on his bed to wait for her.
The crunch of gravel in the drive stops my heart. But it makes up for lost time when I hear footsteps racing up the stairs.
“Rowdy? Are you okay?” Anna’s eyes bug out of her head when she sees me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
So much for her cleaned up vocabulary.
“Ending this stupid charade.”
“Get out.” Anna flings her arm to the side, pointing at the open door.
“I’m not letting you steal Rowdy.”
“He’s my fiancé.” She holds her hand out, showing off the tacky cubic zirconia she bought for herself. “You know what’ll happen if you try to interfere.”
“Why don’t you refresh my memory.”
“Did you forget about the evidence I have?”
I swing my legs off the bed and sit up. “I’ve been doing a little research and since you removed it from the scene of the crime, it’s no good.”
“You’re lying.”
“Did you know I’m left handed?” I’m not but she doesn’t know that.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come on, Anna, think. Which one of my hands did you grab and wrap around your knife before cutting yourself?”
Her face turns chalky but she doesn’t say anything. Neither confirming nor denying my accusation. Damn it.
“Go ahead. Take your fake evidence to the cops. I don’t care. I’m not letting you ruin Rowdy’s life.”
She grabs fistfuls of hair on the sides of her head and screams at me. “Why didn’t you just die like you were supposed to!”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “Rowdy’s my soul mate. We’re destined to be together forever. Do you really think the universe is going to let you screw with fate?”
“You stupid, lying bitch.” Spit flies out of Anna’s mouth.
Hopefully, the neighbors won’t call the cops until after I get indisputable proof that Anna’s homicidal as well as crazy. The original plan was to get her to confess to what she’s already done, but I think a video of her actually trying to kill me will be even better. As long as she doesn’t succeed.
She dumps Rowdy’s trash on the floor, picks up an empty bottle of Coors and smashes it against the foot of the bed.
Oh shit. I back up but I’m trapped between the bed, the wall and a crazy person with a deadly weapon. I grab Rowdy’s pillow and hold it in front of my chest. “Calm down. You don’t want to do this.”
She laughs like a freaking maniac in a B movie. “I’ve been dreaming about all the different ways I can kill you.”
“Care to elaborate?” I really hope all the spy crap Wade a
nd Derek installed in here is working.
She waves the broken bottle back and forth as she creeps closer. “Adding a little powdered drain cleaner to your Advair dispenser is one of my favorites.”
My stomach clenches.
“Do you have any idea what that would feel like?” Anna’s smile is pure evil. “The burn as it sticks to the soft, moist tissues in the back of your throat. The agony as it eats through your vocal chords. You wouldn’t even be able to scream.”
“Stop.” If she continues, I’m going to hurl.
“You’re looking a little green around the mouth. Feeling a bit woozy?”
If I puke, I won’t be able to defend myself or run.
“I’ll bet you can almost taste the blood as it leaks from your ulcerated trachea, can’t you?”
I press my lips together and breathe through my nose.
“I wonder how long it would take for you to drown in your blood?” She takes another step closer. “Cutting your throat won’t be nearly as entertaining, but the results will be the same.”
My back is already pressed against the wall, but that doesn’t stop me from pushing harder, as if I can squeeze myself into the sheetrock. “Stay away from me.”
Anna swings the broken bottle as she lunges at me.
I block it with the pillow, saving my throat, but the jagged edge slices the back of my hand. It takes a second for the pain to register. Then another for the blood to flow. It pours down my forearm then drips off my elbow.
Anna licks her lips and shivers as if the sight of my blood is turning her on. Maybe it is. She’s a sick, twisted piece of work.
I don’t dare take my eyes off her to check the injury. The splat, splat, splat of blood hitting the hardwood floor makes me dizzy.
I need to get some distance between us. Rowdy’s bedside light is a cheap floor lamp on a lightweight metal stand, but it’s the only thing close enough for me to grab. I edge to the left and wait for Anna to strike again. When she does, I dodge to the right, grab the lamp and yank it hard enough to pull the plug out of the wall. The base is heavier than it looks. I use the momentum to swing it up in an arc, hoping Anna will back up.
