by C. C. Piper
Then, I twisted my long locks into a Dutch braid on top, leaving the back loose and flowing. I used a curling iron to create corkscrew curls around my face. The effect came out nicely, and feeling both proactive and pretty freaking invincible, I drove to the club.
I honestly didn’t know what to do once I arrived. There was no getting away from the fact that I was crashing this party, and this was definitely a seat-of-my-pants type of endeavor. Maybe, if I timed things just right, I could snag Mason away while my brother was otherwise occupied.
Shoring up my courage, I entered through the rather ostentatious double doors. Immediately, I was besieged by the cloying scent of too much perfume and cologne mixed with the aromas of caviar, foie gras, and fine wine. I checked my heavy coat with an attendant just inside, raised my chin, squared my shoulders and clipped my way into the dimly-lit ballroom.
At first, my stomach gave a little tremble at the idea that I might be thrown out of this place. But one thing I knew from a lifetime of watching my parents interact with others was that confidence and bluster would keep most naysayers at bay. The truth was that if you looked like you belonged somewhere, oftentimes, no one would question it.
The country club was a massive structure spread out over a single story. It’d been constructed by an eccentric architect back in the fifties who’d been so inspired by nature that he built this thing to resemble a beehive. There were smaller octagonal rooms that served as kitchens, galleries, sunrooms and even an arboretum along the edges. Each of these surrounded one giant room, and at its center was a wooden dance floor.
On the wall next to me were old pictures of past events they’d held here, some of which appeared to include hundreds of guests. They’d renovated since then, of course, updated and modernized everything. Otherwise, it might’ve given off a vibe that resembled The Shining rather than Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
I seized a flute of what was probably either Dom Perignon or Cristal as a waiter strolled by. I needed a little liquid courage. The room was so expansive yet crowded that though I’d been looking for my brother and Mason from the moment I’d come in, I hadn’t seen either of them yet. I was still hunting for them when a tuxedo-clad man tapped me on the shoulder.
“Hello there, beautiful. Who might you be?”
For a fraction of a second, I considered giving him a false name. What if he told on me and got me booted? But then I studied the mass of humanity around us and thought, what the hell.
“Alaina Williams.”
“Braxton Hodgkin the third, but everyone calls me Hodge,” he told me, laying on the charm a bit too thick. His name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. He was likely one of the many trust fund kids I’d grown up among, children who either came from old money or from self-made millionaire or billionaire parents. Parents like my own. He lasered his gaze on me and offered me an almost smarmy grin. “Wanna dance?”
I came close to balking right then. I hadn’t come here to get hit on. But then I realized that the guy might know who was here better than I did. Maybe I could enlist his assistance. I smiled but kept it low key. I didn’t want to encourage him to go too far. “Hey, Hodge. How about a little quid pro quo?”
He blinked at me owlishly, and I wondered how much he’d had to drink. Finally, he answered me. “What do you need?”
“I’m looking for a man.” His grin slid off his mouth so fast you would’ve thought I’d doused him with ice water. “My brother,” I clarified, which brought back a semblance of his original grin. “He’s tall, blond, and has the same hazel eyes as me. Any chance you’ve seen him here?”
“There’s a lot of people here,” Hodge offered hesitantly. “But we can look for him while we’re dancing.”
There was salsa music playing, and I figured that would be a fair enough trade. “Okay.”
Hodge led me through the crush of the crowd and out to the dance floor. I scanned the space constantly, trying to spot either Mason or Andy, but had no luck. Then, once Hodge and I started to move, he seemed to make it his goal to press as tightly against me as possible. I kept pulling back from him to create an envelope of personal space. The song wasn’t even slow, yet he was acting like I was Jennifer Gray to his Patrick Swayze.
Lord.
Worse, it was hard to examine the room while keeping his hands off my ass. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. Now that we were squished up against each other, I could see something weirdly glassy about his eyes. Was he high? After removing Hodge’s wandering hands for the third time, I’d finally had enough. “Stop being so handsy,” I warned him.
“Oh, come on, beautiful. If you let me get more handsy, I swear you’ll like it,” he said, his voice a grating whine. Then, he yanked a pill from his pocket. “Take this baby, the we can soar together. What’d you say?”
Blech!
“Never mind,” I said, retreating from his grasp and stalking off. Note to self: going forward, do not enlist the help of any druggies or drunkards. In fact, maybe I shouldn’t ask for anyone’s help. I’d probably do better on my own anyway.
After that slice of unpleasantness, the music switched gears, and in the brief quiet I heard the familiar ringing guffaws of my brother. I headed toward the sound, doing my best not to get plowed over by couples and groups now gyrating to the most recent hip-hop sensation.
Then, I saw Andy, standing near a corner of the dance floor with a double shot glass in his hand. An empty one. He was encircled by no less than five women, all of whom were fawning over him. My brother’s complexion was flushed, and his eyes were heavy with more than mirth. He looked relaxed and gleeful in a way that spoke of just one thing. He was three sheets to the wind. Fantastic.
“Whoa, chica, you look so much like my baby sister it isn’t even funny,” he told me, then laughed raucously at his own joke, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass.
Wow.
I knew I’d gussied up, but I wouldn’t have guessed that my own flesh and blood would find me unrecognizable. I scowled at my brother. He was going to be such a mess tomorrow morning.
“Where’s Mason?” I asked him, and to illustrate just how hammered he was, he didn’t even pull any punches.
“Mace? He’s in the men’s room getting blown. I talked her bestie into doing it,” Andy said, indicating one of the women next to him, a redhead who looked just as slammed as he did. “Least I could do since it’s for his birthday.”
I gawked in the direction he’d nodded toward, an alcove with a restroom sign over it, and then felt such an intense surge of nausea that I ran from the room. I plunged into the fray of human bodies swirling on the dance floor and out the nearest exit, barely making it outside before I yakked all over the manicured landscaping.
It had begun to snow. Big fat flakes descended from the sky as if to cover the evening’s unforgivable sins. Mason’s sins. Redheaded BFF’s sins. Andy’s sins. Despite not having much in my system anymore, I bent over and hurled again.
I couldn’t believe this. I just couldn’t. After all these months together, after the sneaking around and the magical weekend we’d shared, he’d decided to get off in a bathroom with some stranger. It just went to prove that I didn’t matter to him like he mattered to me. He didn’t love me and never would. He’d cheated on me, just like Auggie had.
Except this was worse than what had gone down with my ex. Because while I’d believed I loved Auggie, I didn’t feel even half as strongly about him as I did about Mason. They weren’t anywhere near the same league. And yet, here I was, betrayed all over again.
I must be the most idiotic moron alive.
I slid past the trimmed shrubbery and sweeping walkways, making my way toward the parking lot. A gust of wind blew across the grounds, sending snowflakes swirling, and chilling me to the bone. I was on the wrong end for my Mini-Cooper, of course.
Since I’d left my coat behind, I was already half frozen, but I had to get away from here.
I looped my arms
around myself and did my best to hurtle toward my car, my stilettos slipping on the slick surface. Upon reaching my car, I fell into the seat. Jerking my keys out of my clutch, I aimed them at my ignition, but my vision had blurred, making it hard to see. At last, on my fourth try, I managed to start the engine. Then, I squealed my tires as I careened out onto the road.
Turning onto South Washington Lane, I gunned it, needing to put as much distance between myself and Mason as possible. The clock on my dash read 1:11AM, so traffic was thankfully light.
The snow continued to drift down, all cold and fluffy and soft. If it matched what I was feeling in that moment, though, it would’ve been raining fire and brimstone instead. Seattle would’ve been decimated and knocked off its foundations. Everyone would’ve been wailing and screaming in torment.
Just like I was inside.
Muscle memory had me heading home, but in my current state, I couldn’t go there. I did a U-turn, arrowing toward Josie’s. I needed a friend, not my mother’s callous judgment. A major intersection was coming up, and I accelerated, trying to make the light when it turned abruptly amber. At the last minute I carefully pumped on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt just in time, thank the Lord.
Unluckily, that’s when I saw the one-ton pickup truck jetting toward me from behind. There was the screech of rubber skidding across the pavement, and then he hit my rear dead-on, jolting me right into oncoming traffic. I felt a jarring impact on my left, then another on my right, as well as horns honking all around me. The pillow-like airbags exploded at my front and sides.
Then pain flooded my system, usurping any other sensation.
Someone was whimpering nearby, crying out in agony. Something dripped into my eyes, something viscous and red, but in my scattered state, I couldn’t seem to identify it. Or maybe, I was just too afraid to.
Lights flickered around me on and off, brightness followed by darkness. There was so much pain stabbing at me from various points on my body that I couldn’t stand it. And then, as if I’d been tossed into some deep dark chasm from which there was no return, my vision dimmed, then went black.
16
Mason
“Thanks for doing this, Holly, I really appreciate it,” I told the girl who’d agreed to hide in here with me to pull the wool over my best bud’s eyes. I hated letting him believe that Holly and I were hooking up, but a drunk Andy was even more stubborn than a sober one.
As we stood there fully clothed against the sink, letting ten minutes tick by on my phone, we continued our whispered discussion from the dance floor. Andy had seen us huddled up together and had assumed something much more lurid was going on between us than the truth. All we were doing now was letting him come to his own conclusions. “I don’t mind. Especially since you’re giving me some free legal advice concerning my belligerent fucking ex.”
“Happy to do it,” I assured her. Holly’s ex-husband was quite the winner. Not only had he beat her during their six-month marriage, he’d threatened to harm her again despite the restraining order she had in place. I had a few connections to the Seattle Police Department and told her I’d give them a head’s up.
I didn’t know why my best friend was so fixated on getting me laid tonight, but he was. And this was the only solution I’d come up with that would allow everything to go on as it had been. Andy believed I was having a good time. I didn’t actually break any of my promises to the woman I loved. And her family remained none the wiser about my relationship with Alaina.
Win. Win. Win.
After my timer went off, Holly mussed her hair and smudged her lipstick a bit before going back to her circle of girlfriends. I waited one more minute and rejoined Andy, attempting to seem more relaxed than I had before we’d disappeared into the men’s room. God, the things I did to keep all these balls in the air. It was getting ridiculous.
Having to go so far for this charade brought to light just how unworkable my situation with Alaina was becoming. I knew she was growing more and more frustrated with me because of it, and the last thing I wanted was to drive a wedge between us. So, tonight, I’d puzzled together a plan for our relationship to come out of the closet, as it were.
First, tomorrow night, I would go to the Williams estate and tell Alaina that I loved her. It was past time for her to know how I felt about her. I’d also explain my intention to make her father, mother, and brother aware of our relationship at the family dinner the next evening. If her dad fired me or if Andy was angry at me, that was the way it’d have to be.
I’d just have to hope that they’d forgive me over time. It might prove difficult to join another firm or even start one of my own, but I could do it. As long as I had Alaina by my side, I could do anything and make any sacrifice.
She was worth it.
Feeling brave, I let myself truly imagine what a future with her might be like. A home together, whether it was my townhouse or another place we chose. Rings. Children. The whole nine yards. And when I pictured such a scenario, it didn’t frighten me at all. Instead, it excited me. It made me think of my parents and the amazing love they’d shared with one another. I wanted that same kind of love, and with Alaina, I was sure I could have it.
I returned to Andy who chortled so loudly that despite the music, heads turned. “Yeah, dude. Way to hit that!” Then, he downed another double shot of Jack before I could wage any kind of protest.
Fuck.
“How much have you had to drink, man?” I asked him.
He thrust out his bottom lip comically. I was a little shocked that he was still standing. His bowtie was loose and stained with something yellow. He had lipstick on his lapel, and his eyes were at half-mast. “I dunno. There was the first shot, then when you went dancing, I did another. Then…” Andy stared at the ceiling and counted on his fingers. Good God. “Um…a lot.”
“Time for some water, bro’.”
I spent the next hour attempting to sober his ass up. He’d gone from noisy and animated, to so affectionate that he kept hugging me and saying, “I love you, man!” And now, he had his head on the bar in a prelude to sleep. I’d just told him it was time to go when his cell rang. He didn’t shift a single muscle. I rolled him onto his feet where he swayed so dramatically I had to support one whole side.
His phone rang again. And again.
I glanced at my own cell, absorbing the time. It was after two in the morning, so I didn’t know who was trying to call him, but he was in no condition to answer. When it rang a fourth time, I fished it out of his pocket and read the screen. It said “Dad”, so I picked it up, continuing to drag my best friend along.
“Hey Bryant-” I began, but he interrupted me, sounding oddly hoarse.
“Mason? Why isn’t Andy answering his phone?”
“He got a little too ambitious with his celebratory imbibing tonight.”
Bryant knew our habits, so I doubted he’d be overly upset. His son and I had been adults for a long time and knew the consequences we’d have to pay for our actions. Still, a niggle of unease skittered down my spine. Andy’s dad wasn’t the type of boss who demanded work from us all hours of the day and night. So why was he contacting his son now?
“Get him to Harborview Medical Center on ninth, Mason. Can you do that for me?”
Harborview was one of the hospitals in town. I brought us to a complete halt.
“Is that where you are?” I asked him. Though Bryant had always been as healthy as a horse, he was no spring chicken. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”
I heard a gasp, followed by a choked sound. It was a sob. I’d known Bryant Williams since I was a small child, and I’d never heard him get emotional. Not once. “Th-there was an accident,” he stammered out. “Alaina was in a car crash.”
Alaina.
Something sluggish and thick encapsulated my brain. It was as if it’d just been filled with cement. Still, I made myself ask the question. “Is she okay?”
“Sh-she… I…” He was openly weeping
now, his voice distressed and high. “W-we don’t know yet.”
Every single cell in my body turned to lead. I’d been on the other side of this type of call before, and if there was anything worse than receiving this kind of bad news, I couldn’t name it. Only now was Andy registering that something was wrong.
“Bro’?”
Without saying anything further to Bryant, I disconnected the call and slipped my best friend’s cell back into his pocket. My throat dry, I moved toward the parking lot with him in tow.
“Your sister is in the hospital,” I managed, though my throat was filled with gravel.
“Buttercup?” He sounded totally confused.
“Yeah. We need to get to her. I need you to stand on your own two feet.”
“’Kay.” He nodded and took his weight off my side, though he remained unsteady as he plodded along behind me. Now that I was free of him, I picked up my pace and burst through the exit. “Wait, man. Fuck, I’m so wasted. You gonna drive us?”
I didn’t bother with a response. Instead, I stepped out into the night and discovered that a few inches of snow had accumulated over every surface. It crunched under my feet as I hurried toward Andy’s cherry red Maserati, one of the few cars remaining in the lot.
I snatched his keys from his jacket pocket and started her up. She roared to life like the finely-tuned machine she was, yet the only thing I cared about was how fast this vehicle could get us to the hospital.
My best bud made it into the passenger side and plopped into the leather bucket seat. It occurred to me that he never allowed anyone to drive his baby but him, yet now, he wasn’t offering even one word of complaint. He rubbed his hand over his face, looking slightly more coherent. Maybe the frigid night air had helped wake him up.
Speeding as quickly as I safely could, I rushed toward Harborview Medical Center. I had to concentrate all my energy on staying on the slippery roads and felt grateful that our destination was only fifteen blocks away.
