Bellamy and the Brute

by Alicia Michaels

  Setting my little clutch aside, I began helping him, silently working to remove every single image or newspaper clipping until the wall was left bare. Once we’d finished, we stood back and stared at the white space.

  “What are you going to do with this wall now?” I asked.

  Turning to me, he smiled. “I was thinking a portrait of your mother.”

  I found myself getting choked up but fought it back, remembering my painstaking makeup job and the mascara that would undoubtedly make a mess all over my face.

  “I think that sounds amazing,” I told him, fighting down the lump in my throat.

  “All this time, I think I became obsessed with those ghosts because I didn’t want to face the fact that she was gone,” he remarked. “I couldn’t rationalize or explain how a seemingly healthy woman could get sick one day and never get better… then just die. I wanted to make sense of these other deaths, because I couldn’t bring myself to come to grips with hers.”

  “And now?” I prodded.

  “Now,” he replied, “I feel blessed to still have you, and I’m glad she isn’t suffering anymore. Seeing those ghosts so miserable reminded me that she is not in that place. She’s in a better place, and that’s what matters.”

  Leaning against him, I placed an arm around his waist. “Yes, she is.”

  “Oh, it’s almost time to go,” he said suddenly, glancing at his watch.

  “Almost?” I questioned. “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

  “Not until your surprise gets here,” he said, taking my arm and leading me from the room.

  “Surprise?” I asked. “You paid to get my hair done, and Aunt Regina sent this dress. What else is there?”

  The doorbell rang, and Dad released my arm, looking at me with a gleam in his eye as if he could hardly contain himself.

  “One last thing,” he replied. “I think you’ll like it. Go answer the door.”

  Frowning at him, I shrugged and crossed the room to do what he asked. Swinging open the front door, I found a man dressed in a suit. Tall and unassuming, he also wore a pair of driving gloves and chauffeur’s hat.

  “Miss Bellamy?” he asked, giving me a pleasant smile.

  “Yes?”

  Sweeping an arm toward the sleek, black limousine idling at the curb, he stepped aside. “Your date has arrived.”

  I raised my eyebrows, glancing back at Dad. “I thought you were my date?”

  He shook his head. “Guess again.”

  Glancing back outside, I found the door opening to reveal several people inside. I barely spared them a glance, though, when one of them emerged and began the short walk up to the porch.

  Tall and lean, the lines of his tux accentuating the width of his shoulders and slender waist, he looked like my every dream come true. Rogue waves rippled through the hair slicked back from his face, reminding me of his stubborn nature. That lopsided grin of his made my stomach do a little flip as he paused in front of me, hands behind his back.

  “Wow,” he murmured, looking me over from head to toe. “You look…” He shook his head. “Beautiful doesn’t seem right, but it’s the best I got.”

  Laughing, I took another step toward him. “You look pretty amazing yourself,” I said.

  He really did. The Victorian-style waistcoat and cravat he wore fit tonight’s theme, a matching shade of gold to my gown. Moving one hand from behind his back, he revealed a clear container holding a corsage made of red roses and baby’s breath.

  My smile widened. “You got me a corsage?”

  He shrugged, opening the box and sliding it onto my wrist. “I never went to prom. Humor me.”

  I raised my wrist to my nose and inhaled the fragrance of the roses. “It’s beautiful, thank you. I’m happy to see you, but… well, I thought you weren’t ready to be around so many people.”

  Tate’s face became serious as he shook his head. “I wasn’t, but I’m not letting that stop me. Now that all that other stuff is behind us, I want to live again, Bell. I don’t care if people stare or say things behind my back, because not one of them will be as lucky as I am to have the most beautiful girl in the room on their arm. Nothing is going to stop me from enjoying the night at your side and dancing you dizzy.”

  Smiling, I felt myself getting misty again and blinked to hold it back. “Dang it. You have to stop that, or I’m going to ruin my makeup.”

  “Then, by all means, let’s go,” he said, bending his arm and offering it to me. “Coming, Mr. McGuire?”

  Dad stepped out onto the porch, locking the front door after ensuring the porch light remained on. “Right behind you.”

  Tate escorted me to the waiting limo, with Dad on our heels. From inside, Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin watched us with smiles, while Emma and Max poked their head out one of the windows.

  “Bellamy, you look like a princess,” Emma exclaimed as I came closer.

  “She sure does,” Tate agreed, standing aside and gesturing for me to enter the car before him.

  “Hold on,” I said, turning to my dad as he approached.

  I threw my arms around him and squeezed him tight. “Thank you.”

  Hugging me back, he patted my shoulder gently. “You’re welcome, munchkin. Your punishment is officially lifted. A fresh start for both of us, okay?”

  Pulling away from him, I nodded. “Okay. Now we can go.”

  I slid into the car between Max and Emma, who refused to make room for Tate next to me. He and Dad squeezed in on the other side of Max, and the driver closed the door before getting in the driver’s seat.

  “You look beautiful, Bellamy,” Faith said.

  “So do you,” I replied, taking in her scarlet gown, complete with embroidered bodice and high collar. Her full skirts took up more than half the seat she shared with Baldwin.

  “Hey, what about me?” Emma demanded.

  I gave one of her little curls a tug. “You look like a little angel in your white dress. You’ll be the prettiest girl at the ball.”

  “Hey, where’s Ezra?” I asked, feeling as if something was missing without him here.

  “Ezra has a date for the ball,” Tate said with a smirk. “Obviously, he didn’t want to scare her off by bringing her around us. Can’t say I blame the guy.”

  Faith reached across the car to slap Tate’s knee with a frown that turned into a smile as she burst out laughing. “You’re terrible, but probably right,” she said between chuckles. “We’ll see him at the ball, I’m sure.

  Our ride to the Wellhollow Springs Event Center was lighthearted, with conversation leaning more toward what the decorations might look like and what sort of food would be served, as opposed to court cases and murders. It was a pleasant change, to be in the same space with all these people and just be happy. Tate was lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling and laughing with his siblings, while my dad held a conversation with the Baldwins.

  We arrived to find the front doors of the event center hanging open, the stone staircase draped in a red carpet. Situated in a historical building—the town’s first courthouse—it was the perfect location for the ball given this year’s theme. As we left the limousine, several others appeared from their cars, handing keys over to valets and waving to friends as they ascended to go inside.

  Tate caused quite a stir when he appeared, several pairs of eyes settling on him, while a few whispers followed us up the stairs. I held on to his arm and glanced up at him. He had eyes only for me, ignoring everyone else.

  “See?” he murmured. “I told you. Everyone’s staring at you.”

  I wasn’t certain if he was right or simply trying to deflect the attention off himself, but I didn’t argue. It didn’t matter anyway, because as far as I was concerned, Tate was the only person in the world right now… my world. His gaze was the only one that mattered, and, at the moment, it told me he very much liked what he saw.

  We climbed the stairs together, Dad right behind us, with Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin taking up the rear, herding Max and Emma a
head of them. We were greeted at the top of the stairs by a photographer who gathered us for a photo session—first snapping an image of our entire group, then Tate and me, Dad and me, and the Baldwin family. Taking the order forms we were given for the photos, we tucked them into purses and pockets before continuing inside.

  The entryway of the old courthouse boasted painted ceilings, with images of angels against a cloudy sky staring down at us. Another set of open double doors led into the event hall, once a courtroom. Large floral arrangements and lit candles set the mood, while soft music played from inside. The smell of food made my stomach rumble, even though I knew my dress wouldn’t allow me to eat too much. The corset-laced back had me cinched in tighter than a pearl inside a clam.

  Standing just within the entrance were Mayor Felicia Haines and her mother, Nancy. Dressed beautifully, they smiled and chatted with people as they came in. It seemed apparent to me that they were faking it. Nancy looked as if she hadn’t slept since her husband had been arrested, and the dark circles under Felicia’s eyes couldn’t be hidden with makeup. When it was our turn to be greeted by them, they simply stared at us, their solemn expressions saying it all.

  Letting Tate lead me past them, I avoided their gazes, trying to push down the remorse I felt. I had nothing to feel guilty about. I couldn’t blame them for not being thrilled to see us—they had to know we’d been the ones to take down Canton. But that didn’t mean we were to blame for this mess. Canton had made his own choices, and that it had so badly affected his family was on him, not me.

  “Ooooh, chocolate,” Emma squealed, breaking away from our group and running toward a table covered in desserts, surrounding what appeared to be a chocolate fountain.

  “Emma,” Faith exclaimed, lifting her heavy skirts to run after her.

  “Dad, can we go too?” Max asked, staring wistfully at the table full of miniature cakes and pastries.

  “Dinner hasn’t even been served yet,” Douglas replied, trying to keep a straight face. He failed, laughing and breaking out in a wide smile. “Okay, fine. Just one piece of cake.”

  The two took off after Emma and Faith, leaving Tate, Dad, and me to find a place for us to sit. We found one of the empty, round tables with just enough chairs for our group. After we’d settled there, the room became fuller by the second, with people arriving and either heading toward the cash bar or mingling around the various tables with friends and neighbors. Several people stopped by our table to speak with Tate—though most were more interested in satisfying their curiosity than actually seeing how Tate had been doing. He handled them better than I expected, smiling and assuring them all that he had been ill but was on the mend now.

  Watching him, I wondered if that would prove true. When Isabella had touched his face, she had only touched the damaged side. Had she broken the curse? Would he go into remission, and, if so, could the surgery that once failed him now restore him to normal?

  Grasping his hand under the table, I decided it didn’t matter either way. As far as I was concerned, Tate’s greatest transformation had been inside. It had no bearing on how he looked outwardly, and that was okay. He seemed to have come to terms with it, for better or worse.

  By the time Faith and Douglas returned to the table with the kids and an assortment of desserts and fruits, Felicia Haines had taken the microphone to welcome everyone to this year’s ball. Once she had finished her speech, dinner was served. The band began to play and conversation resumed. After three courses of trying not to stuff my face and only tasting a little bit of everything, I was stuffed and ready to bust out of my dress. I was grateful when Tate stood and offered me his hand.

  “Wanna dance?”

  I smiled and took the offered hand, standing and fixing the skirt of my gown. “Do you even know how to dance?”

  He inclined his head. “Better than some, no worse than most.”

  “Good,” I quipped. “That means you won’t embarrass me.”

  After a couple of hours of dancing, with a few breaks in between, Tate and I were exhausted. He’d proven how well he could dance, even giving me a crash course in waltzing. As if he couldn’t be anymore swoon-worthy, he’d whirled me across the dance floor to one of the slower songs, making it easy to fall into the steps. Taking my hand, he led me from the dance floor and toward the open doors leading out into the foyer.

  “Okay, I fulfilled my promise to dance you dizzy,” he declared. “It’s hot in here. Let’s go get some air.”

  Falling in step with him, I glanced back over my shoulder to find Dad on the dance floor with Emma. He held her hands, twirling her in circles as she giggled with glee. Smiling, I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin not far from them, locked together in a slow dance. Apparently, Douglas’ secrets hadn’t ruined them completely. I was glad to see it. Despite the wrong he’d done, Douglas wasn’t a bad person. Just like Tate, he deserved his second chance. At our table, Max sat chatting with Ezra and his date. They had arrived about thirty minutes late. She was a beautiful Asian woman with a short, black bob snipped to her chin, wearing a simple black gown. If the way Ezra kept smiling at her was any indication, he was smitten.

  It didn’t escape my notice that Max had a plate full of various desserts in front of him… again. The boy was a bottomless pit.

  Finding the front steps and parking lot crowded with people, Tate gave my hand a tug and guided me toward a set of steps just off the entrance.

  “Follow me,” he said as the darkness of the staircase swallowed us. “I know a place where we can be alone.”

  Clinging to his hand, I followed him up. “Is this the part where you try to take advantage of me in a dark room?”

  He chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze as he led me up the staircase, which was illuminated only by moonlight streaming through stained-glass windows. “I will have you know that I’m reformed. Taking advantage of girls is something I don’t do anymore.”

  “Damn,” I muttered as we reached the top of the stairs. “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or disappointed.”

  Tate laughed again, this time out loud—the sound echoing down the dark staircase. “I might be convinced to break my code of honor if you flash me a little leg from beneath all those petticoats. Isn’t that what would be considered scandalous back in the day? A girl could go a long way by flashing a little ankle.”

  By now, I was laughing so hard my belly ached, but stifling it with my hand so no one would hear us up here and follow. I wanted that privacy as bad as Tate did.

  Finally, he opened a door at the top of the staircase and led me out onto a stone balcony, which jutted out over the front of the building. Glancing around as I stepped out onto it, I realized it stretched left and right, seeming to turn along the sides of the building instead of ending.

  “This is amazing,” I whispered as Tate paused to prop a cinder block up within the doorway so we wouldn’t be locked out. “Does it wrap around the entire building?”

  Nodding, he came to stand beside me at the stone rail, resting his elbows on it and gazing out toward town, which was lit up in the distance by streetlamps.

  “It does,” he replied. “Me and some of my friends used to come out here. You know, when the ball got boring.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “To do what, exactly?”

  He shrugged. “Drink beer and make out with our dates. What else?”

  Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes at him. “Guess I should have brought a six-pack.”

  Wrapping one arm around me, he pulled me against his side. “Are you kidding? I got to watch Max and Emma eat chocolate until they almost puked and dance the night away with you. I’m exhausted, but I’ve never had this much fun at one of these things. You?”

  “Hmmm,” I murmured, snuggling closer against him and inhaling the scent of his cologne. “So much fun. You’re the best prom date ever.”

  Laughing, he snaked an arm around my waist, holding me more securely to his side. “This was definitely a prom-y date. Nothing beats the Ferri
s wheel, though.”

  “Definitely not,” I agreed. “You’re going to have your work cut out for you topping that.”

  “Challenge accepted,” he declared.

  Raising my head, I offered him my lips. He kissed me back, the action growing with intensity by the second. Pulling away with a ragged sigh, he shook his head.

  “We can’t do that here,” he murmured. “I’m going to forget we aren’t technically alone.”

  Giving him a mischievous smile, I peered over the edge of the balcony at the people standing around smoking cigarettes and talking. “Those people don’t even know we’re up here… They’ll continue not knowing as long as we’re quiet.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he turned and pressed me up against the wall, pinning me there with his body. “Now who’s taking advantage?”

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tilted my head back to invite another kiss. “Guilty as charged and not ashamed,” I murmured.

  He smothered my laugh with a kiss, pressing his hands against the brick and trapping me between his arms. Sighing, I sank against him, closing my eyes and reveling in the moment. The warm summer air, wearing a gown while being kissed by a guy in a dashing suit, the taste of chocolate and strawberries on his tongue…

  I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were right on us, and, by then, it was too late.

  Tate was snatched away from me, and a hand clamped tight around my arm in a bruising grip.

  “What do we have here?” drawled a familiar voice.

  Trying to pull my arm from his grasp, I found myself face to face with Lincoln Burns. The same two guys who had been with him at the diner held Tate away from me, laughing as Lincoln grasped my other arm. I hadn’t noticed him inside, but he and his friends wore suits. A half-empty twenty-four case of beer rested on the ground at their feet, and I supposed they’d come up here for their old past time of drinking the night away where their parents couldn’t see them.