25. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Layne
Leaving my room had been a bad idea. But I needed to find Keaton. I was fed up with this party. Fed up with random people knocking at my door. That drunk guy had come back because he still wanted to “see if Grady’s wife is real.” Wentworth had kicked him out of the house and was now helping me search for Keaton to put an end to this circus.
I shoved through the partying people in the living room, scanning faces in hopes that one of them was my husband. Whenever someone touched me in passing, a shock of pain pulsed through my body. Why did it smell like someone had smoked in here? Pressure built in my chest by the minute. I was ready to scream my head off.
Each step cost me more strength than I had as I dragged myself out onto the pool deck. The water was packed with people, beach balls and foam coming from a machine flying around. Keaton wasn’t one of them, neither was he in the hot tub, the lounge, at the bar, or anywhere else.
Where is he, God?
A new song came on, one I played on repeat every day. I had to grin a little. Were these people aware that Ooh Ahh by Grits was a Christian song? God had a great sense of humor.
I turned in another circle, searching the bobbing crowd. I needed to go back into my bedroom. Maybe Wentworth would find him and could send him my way.
A beefy arm came around my waist from behind. I froze at the painful touch.
“Where are you going, beautiful lady?” A male voice I didn’t recognize yelled into my ear.
I shoved out of his grip and turned to him. “Don’t touch me, please.” Pretty sure I didn’t say it loud enough for him to understand over the booming music, but I didn’t have the energy to shout.
“Dance with me.” The brawny guy with shoulder-length blond hair smiled. Something flickered in his pale eyes I couldn’t place, but it sent ice clawing down my back. “Pretty, please.”
Over my dead body.
“No, thanks.” I made to leave, but he snatched my wrist and yanked me around. Fire shot through me.
He pulled me against his muscular body. “Come on, just one dance. It’ll be fun.”
“Let me go,” I gritted out, trying to wrestle free. The pain . . . Lord, help me.
“Don’t be a killjoy, woman.”
A fist came out of nowhere and nailed the guy in the face. Hard.
Blood exploded from his nose. Several women screamed and fled as he stiffened and dropped like a tree that had been cut down. Lying in the grass, his hands curled up in an unnatural pose.
Keaton stepped around me, grasped my shoulders, and nudged me away from the scene. His raven hair hung into his forehead, the white dress shirt he wore was wrinkled and open, displaying his taut muscles. How had he managed to knock out a guy twice his size with just one punch?
“Are you okay? Did he do something to you?” The raw violence in his expression slowly gave way to concern as he scrutinized me.
I shook my head. Wished he wouldn’t touch me because it hurt so much. Wished all the people would leave because they were too loud.
Inside the house, he guided me through the living room and upstairs. His hands trembled when he unlocked my bedroom door and opened it.
I collapsed onto my bed, every nerve of my body on fire. Lord, please have mercy . . .
“Hey, it’s okay,” Keaton whispered from behind me as he brushed a strand out of my face. Ran a hand over my hair.
The fact that I wanted his touch to be soothing, that I yearned for it, but that it burned like fire . . . My heart broke a little. Why did this illness have to be so brutal? Why did it have to rob me of so much? Why did it have to drive a wedge between me and my loved ones?
“Stay here,” Keaton said. I hardly heard him over the tinnitus ringing in my ears. “I’ll take care of him.”
Take care of him? Why did it sound like he was going to kill the guy?
I wanted to tell him to just drop it, but I couldn’t even move a finger anymore. I was caged inside my own body.
Please, God, don’t let Keaton do anything stupid.