“I’m getting married tomorrow,” I say, my voice pleading. Dax. Oh my God. I spent all of our time together trying to keep him from my past and it’s going to rear its ugly head and destroy our wedding. What can I do to fix this? How can I buy some more time? “Please,” I ask, because it’s the only thing I can think of at the moment. Please save me. Please don’t hurt Dax. Just please leave me alone.
The girl who I can’t place gets right in my face. “I can’t believe you’re going through with it. Think of this as us doing you a favor.” They know too much about me. They’ve seen too much. How long have they been trailing me before they moved into Morganna’s old house? Gaining information? My schedule, my hobbies, my friends and clients. My intel guys said they were around these days, that I should watch my six, but never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed they’d be so permanently around here. The woman snickers. She sounds young.
It hits me all at once staring at her big eyes. “Cody,” I whisper. This is the woman…girl, Cody was out on a date with at the café in NYC. The expensive bourbon wants to come back up. I won’t let it.
“Name’s Rosy,” she says. “You’re an idiot for not staying with Cody. His dick tastes like candy dipped in cocaine. I’m addicted.” I planned to go easy, but then she opened her mouth. I uppercut her so hard that I hear her jaw crack, and her teeth click together. Maybe I even chipped one. Rosy stumbles backward, but doesn’t fall. It was my last bit of freedom before I’m met with fifty thousand volts of electricity. Helplessly, I watch as he puts his Taser in the back pocket of his slacks. Shaking his head, he scoops me up like a baby and carries me to his fucking boat that’s bobbing against the dock. It’s primed and ready for a midnight sail.
I walked right into a trap, unarmed and completely drunk. My only hope is that I broke a bone, even a small one, in that bitch’s face. I can see the lights shining from my house like a lighthouse. I’m not headed toward it, I’m motoring away from it into the inky, dark water I used to take solace in.
If I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what was going on before, I am the second the man shocks me again and stuffs a gag in my mouth. The strip of duct tape on top of it is the icing on the fucking Vadim cake.
That motherfucker is going to pay.
****
White flowers are everywhere. They hang from trees that obviously do not flower, they drape over arches, on top of chairs, on the grass, in the sky. Wait, no, there are so many that it feels like flowers are falling from the sky. Guests have arrived at the outdoor venue and have parked themselves in the white folding chairs. There’s a lot of them and my nerves are causing my entire body to shake with unease. My teeth chatter.
“Calm yourself,” Chloe chides, rubbing my bare shoulders. The strapless dress was selected a long time ago. So long ago that I don’t tell anyone exactly when I picked it out to marry another man. It’s a beautiful dress. It should have its time to shine, that’s my thinking. Everything else about this day and wedding is different.
I nod. “It’s just a lot. After all that we’ve been through, I can’t believe this is actually happening. It feels so final. Like death,” I say, looking out of the window of the large bed and breakfast. A harpist plays a tune that sounds vaguely familiar.
“Did you seriously just say death?” Chloe asks.
I realize my mistake and try to cover it up. “Well, death is the most final thing that can happen to a person. And I’m feeling like this is pretty final,” I remark, petting the sides of the expensive beaded silk.
Chloe scoffs. “You’re so morose. Come on, everyone is waiting downstairs. You’re holding this crazy train up.” My mom appears in the doorway wearing her finest old lady suit. She looks like she’s supposed to attend brunch with the Queen. That said, she’s still beautiful. Her blonde hair that was similar to mine is now almost a silver color. Her complexion is flawless for a woman her age, and her smile is the smile of a mother who is finally giving away her daughter.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t get all emotional, please. I have so many of my own emotions right now that I think dealing with yours might set me over the edge,” I say in Russian. She laughs, but I see wetness in the corners of her ice blue eyes. I point a finger at her in warning. “I mean it.” She tells me that I need to indulge her. I let her hug me and kiss me and tell me a story about how when I was five years old I dressed up in an old sheet and forced the boy next door to marry me. I stuck a daffodil in the pocket of his jean shorts because he didn’t have a pocket in his shirt. She told me I was serious about it and expected our parents to attend. He ended up running away with tears streaming down his face because I told him he had to kiss me on the cheek to seal the deal. She tells me this as we walk down to the quaint lobby and then out of the back doors. I hang on to every word, like a sponge requiring water to breathe. I try to envision the scenario from her eyes, looking at myself trying to marry the little boy. It calms me down, makes me feel more at ease.
The wedding march starts and she clings to my arm tightly. I lay my hand over hers and we start down the aisle. I smile at familiar faces and even some faces I don’t recognize. We make it halfway down, and I finally look toward the altar at the man I am to marry.
I take a breath so deep that my mother feels it. She squeezes my hand a little and leads me forward as I lag behind. It’s him. He’s waiting for me.
He’s always waiting for me, I think. How long will he wait?
The flowers are everywhere. They cloud my vision. It’s a white blur of wedding and confusion. I can’t see my husband’s face anymore. It blurs like it’s a penis on daytime television. I squint and it still doesn’t make it any better.
“Who is it?” I ask. My mother doesn’t answer. She laughs nervously like I’m crazy. She’s the crazy one if she thinks I’m going to marry a man who has a blurry face.
“Who is it?” I yell louder. Gasps from the guests break out, and I hear hushed whispers.
I know I make out a female voice that says, “Bless that girl.”
I scoff. “Oh, fucking bless you!” I yell. My mother lets go of my hand and I freeze. She’s what’s keeping me grounded. I look beside me, but she’s vanished into thin air. All eyes are trained on me. They surround me like vultures. They judge me. I look one more time at the altar but my groom is gone, too. I’m left with family and friends, who look at me like I’m Satan incarnate. I can’t speak because something is over my mouth. I scream a muffled, strained sound. My breaths are shallow and quick and I fall to the ground. My white dress pools around me and turns ice cold.
Someone slaps me across the face. It’s not clear, but it looks like it’s a man with small eyes and cruel lips. Another slap, except harder. “Wake up, bitch!” he yells. My mouth burns as something is torn from my face.
A dream. It was all a dream. I open my eyes and I’m met with a nightmare.
Tears form in my eyes without my permission. “V,” I gasp.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cody
I raise my shot glass to the sky. “Here’s to new beginnings,” I say, toasting the air. “And to old endings, too,” I slur. I’m more tired than I am drunk and I’ve been doing too much thinking. I’m at my house in Virginia Beach because I wanted to be away from people. Horse, Van, and Molly are here because they don’t count as people. I like them. They’ve helped me ignore the fact that the love of my life is marrying another man tomorrow. Molly has gone down the entire list of her single friends in an effort to not leave me lonely tonight. She scrolled through her social media page on her cell phone and I vetoed as she pointed them out.
“Wait! What about Rosy? You should call Rosy, boss. She’s bugged me for months and months to score a date with you. Give her another chance,” Molly says, taking a sip of her drink. Her brown hair is tied back in a taciturn ponytail and her pink lips press to the side in thought. Horse is seated behind her on the outdoor sofa, staring into the flames of the modern fire pit. It’s sunken into the center of the cocktail
table. He looks as if he wants to sink it further. Molly sits next to him and he pulls her small frame close to his side.
I shake my head. Rosy. She wants more than I’ll give her. “How do you know her again?” Months and months seems like a long time to bug a friend to hook you up with her boss. “Where did you meet her?” I glance at Molly as I think about what she’s said.
Molly shrugs. “She called me up one day looking for a job. I told her we don’t hire people you don’t know, but she seemed nice enough, so I met with her for coffee a couple of times to see if she would be beneficial to me at all. She seemed so fucking enamored by you that I let her come with me when I dropped off some dry cleaning to your house. Remember?”
I raise my brows. Vaguely. “You make it a habit of bringing strangers over?”
“Hot ones that have the potential to change your life. Yes,” Molly replies. Horse grunts out a laugh. “She wouldn’t do me any good, not quick enough, but I figured maybe she could still do some good for you.”
“If she wasn’t quick enough for you, she damn well won’t be quick enough for me,” I joke. Van laughs and tells me about a time when Molly successfully matched him up with a one-night stand that he kept around for weeks after. The woman evidently works miracles if that’s the sort of hookup you’re looking for. She’s Tinder, but in a cute human form.
The outdoor bar has everything I love stocked to the brim, but I grab a bottle of water instead. If I’m going to contemplate my future in dating I need to be stone cold sober, or completely annihilated. I’m closer to sober, so I pick that. My cell phone lies in front of me on the high bar. It lights up and starts vibrating. Everyone looks from the fire to my phone. Their heads turn as if it’s their phone instead of mine. We’re all on edge, just waiting for the call that tells us it’s go time. By go time I mean time to settle the score with the asshole who ruined my life.
“Who is it?” Molly asks, taking Horse’s hand in hers.
I clear my throat. “It’s a blocked number,” I say, answering the call with a short, “Ridge.”
I hear sobbing. “Cody. I need you to come to me. I can’t go through with the wedding,” Lainey says. My eyes widen, my heart hammers, and my palms grow sweaty with unease. I lift my arm to check the time. It’s late as fuck. One a.m. It’s technically already her wedding day. I want to ask if she’s okay, but she’s obviously not. One glance at my friends and it tells me they know who it is and why she’s calling. They all go back to their business of chatting and staring into the flames.
“Where are you at?” Her sobbing is uncontrollable. “Are you sure you want me to come over?”
“My friend’s house. It’s on the other side of the bay. Hang on, let me find the address,” she says, slurring the last word. “I need you. Please.” If she needs me I’ll be there for her no matter the circumstances. She gives me the address in a rush. I have to ask her to repeat it twice. I know the address. If my memory serves me correct the street is literally right across the water from Lainey’s house. Who does she know over there?
I sigh. “How much have you had to drink, Fast Lane? Have you called your fiancé?” I can’t even use his name. Tonight I was conditioning myself to forget he existed. It’s not working out in my advantage.
She wails. “Don’t you think I know I should want to call Dax? I fucking want you, Cody. I need to see you. Talk to you. Be with you. Right now.”
“And you won’t regret it in the morning?” It’s a valid question. Especially if she wakes up in a few hours and actually makes it to her wedding on time. Seeing me tonight is as good as putting a nail in the coffin of her marriage.
“I can’t regret you. Any part of you—any part of us. I never will. I’m not marrying him. I can’t be married to anyone else.” My heart skips a beat. Is this too good to be true? What phone is she calling me from?
I need to find out for myself. “I’ll be right there,” I reply. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and replaces the tired worn out feeling that’s haunted me as of late. I bid my friends farewell and tell them they should stay and hang out. Horse is wary, Molly rolls her eyes, and Van tells me a shortcut to get to the address Lainey is at. I head to my bedroom, pull on a ball cap, squirt on some cologne, and rush out the door.
Twenty minutes later I’m standing in front of a huge house that looks as if the gardener quit weeks ago. There’s no car in the driveway, but there could be one in the garage. For all intents and purposes this house is vacant. I look down at my phone to make sure I’m at the correct address. When I look up, Lainey opens the front door. She makes sure I see her then disappears back into the house and leaves the door open behind her for me to follow. She doesn’t greet me, or show her face.
A bad feeling washes over me. I’m in the business of dishing out bad feeling, so I tend to listen to my gut more frequently than the average Joe. Walking quietly and quickly down the cobblestone walkway, up the front steps and then through the door, I don’t take my hand off the concealed gun that lives on my belt strap. Some people can’t leave their house without their phone, or their wallet. I can do without anything else except my gun. I need it to feel safe in this new, sharp world. People play Cowboys and Indians in the grocery store these days. I have so many questions and I know there’s only one way to get answers.
Pushing through the front door, I look around. The air is stagnant and there’s white, dusty sheets draped over furniture. “I’m in here,” Lainey yells in a stuffy voice. “I’m trying to fix my face.” Like I care what her face looks like. I’m worried about her. Her makeup doesn’t matter to me. It never matters, actually. I follow the sound of her voice, stalking around corners and never forgetting to check my back. There’s running water in the kitchen. I make my way toward it. Lainey’s standing at the marble glazed sink with her back facing me. She’s wearing a short silk robe that’s emblazoned with the word ‘bride’ and it makes my stomach flip. Her legs are dirty and her hair is matted and wet. Upon further inspection I notice her whole body trembling.
“Baby?” I ask, swallowing hard. “Come here,” I order, softly. She’s scared and upset and God knows what she’s going through right now. Lainey sobs loudly. She turns around quickly. Her face is caked with dirt and she has dried blood mixing with fresh blood at the corners of her mouth. She’s beaten and bloody and her eyes are so red that she doesn’t look like herself at all.
“You don’t want me,” she says, her gaze glazed over and completely out of this world. I don’t hear her, though, because I see red. I’m furious and petrified at the same time. I rush across the room and almost make it to her before someone knocks me to the floor with a fucking Taser gun. Can I control my arm enough to get to my gun? Nope. Can I turn my head to see who my attacker is? Not a chance. Can I hear Lainey sobbing? It cuts me like a fucking carving knife.
A voice. The voice from the past echoes through the room. “Well done. Well done. For the first time in years you have done something perfectly, Elena.”
No. This can’t be happening. My worst nightmare is unfolding in front of my eyes. He comes into view and takes Lainey by the shoulders. That makes it his three hundred and sixth offense. Maybe even three hundred and seventh because he’s fucking up my revenge plan. The electricity coursing my body is wearing off. My fingers twitch by my sides. I only need a few more seconds and I’ll be able to reach my gun and shoot him in the leg. Not the head or the chest, no. That would be too humane for a person so evil.
“Don’t even think about it, X,” he says, voice low. He pulls the hammer back of his own gun with his thumb and aims it at her head, smiling. That same grin used to haunt me. Funny how things change when it’s not my life at stake anymore. It’s a life that is of more importance. Lainey shuts her eyes, wincing, and a wail escapes, her lips twisting in a horrified grimace. I let my arms fall back to my sides, wide open like a fucking snow angel. I bet on a lot of things. I won’t bet on her life; not for all the tea in China. V speaks. “Disarm yourself. Slide all of you
r weapons to me and then I’ll tell you what to do next.” V is using too much force. Lainey will have an imprint of the gun barrel on the side of her temple. I growl.
“Ease up on her!” I yell. He grabs her chin, lifts it up, and kisses the hollow of her neck with his dirty mouth. I clamp my mouth shut so tight my teeth might shatter from the pressure. She can recover from a kiss and a welt on her head. Bruises heal and cuts fade away. To my knowledge he hasn’t done anything to irrevocably break her. Breathe, Cody. Breathe. I remind myself.
“Is that better?” he asks, sneering, his lips still touching the skin on her throat. Three hundred and eight. This won’t end well. Emotions are overtaking the room. There’s no distancing myself from this—retreating to that dark corner of my mind. To be strong for myself is one thing, but with Lainey in harm’s way I’m liable to do something outright crazy.
I sit up slowly, holding my arms straight out like a T. “Let her go,” I say, motioning to the gun on my hip. He nods once, gaze glued to my hand and I slide the loaded gun to his feet. I don’t need it. My rage alone is lethal enough to kill him. I hear people chattering in the other room and realize we’re not alone. I count footsteps and different tones of voices. I hear three people, but count four sets of footsteps as they enter the kitchen behind me. I don’t glance. I don’t take my eyes off of Lainey. As V’s minions enter, Lainey’s face changes. Pain and sorrow are replaced by guilt and embarrassment.
“Don’t move. Your best friend will join you momentarily,” V says to me. To the people behind me he says, “Cuff them together. Right there on the floor.”
“Can I take Cody into one of the bedrooms for an hour or two, first?” Rosy says as she rounds the front of me, with her pointer finger dangling from her mouth. Fucking bitch. “He’s so yummy. It would be a shame if I don’t get to use him for a bit first.” I was so busy trying to get over Lainey that Rosy’s lies never registered. I wasn’t looking for them.
Time and Space Page 20
