11. What’s wrong with her?
What’s wrong with her?
Mike
“W-what?” Vicky blinked up at me.
I felt like an utter bastard to have brought out the stammer again, especially after what just happened, but I tended to get angry when I was worried and seeing that man grab Vicky had taken five years off my life.
I took a deep breath and made a concerted effort to soften my gruff tone.
“Sorry, Vicky,” I said, my voice softer now, with only a hint of growl. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. Where’s your brother and Lottie?”
“Lottie went after my half-sister. Claire has a bruise on her cheek.”
Fucking Blake. That drunk prick always did give me weird vibes.
“Stay away from Blake.”
Yep, I was just spouting off commands to this woman now like I owned her. But she still hadn’t let go of my hand. She looked absolutely stunning in the long, fitted white dress she was wearing, and I was still seething after seeing some bastard grab her.
The thought that she could ever be alone with her brother-in-law made me vibrate with rage.
“I don’t understand what you?—?”
“And what the fuck were you doing with those idiots earlier?”
She frowned at me and snatched her hand back from mine. I could feel her retreat, and I knew I needed to rein in my temper and soften my tone again, but I simply couldn’t manage it.
I’d been furious throughout this whole shitshow of an event.
Vicky and Lottie had been going from one group of complete twats to another, charming the pants off all of them. And I could tell from the various expressions on Vicky’s face that she hated every minute.
I tried to stay in the background, but when I saw that forced smile she directed at one particular group of leering dickheads, I had to approach. And I’d felt a deep sense of satisfaction when Vicky’s focus went from the other men to me in a matter of seconds.
But I was still recovering from the shock of her describing her favourite of my work outfits in great detail to everyone around us.
Despite the fact I’d hated the attention on me at the time, I still felt huge satisfaction at the further demonstration of Vicky being mine.
Especially after I’d had to endure overhearing all of these pricks talking about the ice princess and making bets on who was going to be the first to fuck her when she was out of earshot.
But before I could say anything to Vicky, Lottie had dragged her away, and I’d been searching for her ever since until I saw that grabby piece of shit holding onto her arm with her looking terrified.
Her eyebrows went up, and pink stained her cheekbones. “He grabbed me. I didn’t?—”
“I’m not talking about what just happened. I’m talking about earlier when you smiled at all those groups of motherfuckers and made them think they might stand a chance with you.”
She blinked up at me, and the red on her cheeks deepened. “Lottie’s coached me on smiling. It makes me more socially acceptable.”
“Who the fuck cares if you’re socially acceptable to those twats?”
“I have to do business with them.”
I glared at her. “You are not doing business with them .”
“I-I…” She looked so completely and adorably confused then that I just wanted to kiss her again, but the fire building behind her eyes told me that may not be the best plan. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can if it keeps you away from bastards like that.”
Okay, I was aware at this juncture that the wooing portion of the evening seemed to have gone seriously awry. I wasn’t sure how wooing translated into modern times, but I knew it probably didn’t involve barking orders and getting cross at the object of your affection.
Vicky had dropped my hand to put both of hers on her hips, and her eyes were narrowed. I’d grown up with a sister—I knew the warning signs. But just as I was about to try and claw things back, the event organiser’s voice filled the space.
“So, if we’re all ready, it’s that part of the evening where you can start oohing and aahing as we light up this entire county!”
Vicky blinked before her eyes went wide, a look of sheer panic flashing across her features.
What was going on?
Then the first bang shook the room, and her hands flew to her ears.
The sky outside transformed with multi-coloured sparkles, and the floor trembled with the force of the explosions. Then one of the rockets that must have been set off too close to the open double doors suddenly misfired.
Sparks flew across the ballroom floor, and the crowd surged back amidst squeals of slightly panicky excitement.
Meanwhile, as the bangs from outside escalated, I realised that something was wrong with Vicky. She’d started shaking like a cornered animal.
I uncrossed my arms and started toward her, but she flinched back. I felt completely helpless as her hands at her ears started flapping. Then my heart stopped with her first awful scream.
She dropped into a half-crouch, hands still flapping at her ears, completely lost in her world of fear.
“Hold her!” I heard Ollie shout and glanced over to see him and Lottie trying to get to us through the crowd. “Mike, hold her! Do it, now .”
It has to be a tight hug.
That’s what Vicky had said in the Orangery. That’s what calmed her down. Before I could doubt myself, I strode forward and pulled her small body into my arms.
The screaming stopped just as Lottie and Ollie made it to us, but Vicky was still shaking.
Lottie bent down to scoop up Vicky’s bag, which had fallen to the floor, and pulled out noise-cancelling headphones.
“Keep firm pressure,” Lottie told me as she put the headphones over Vicky’s ears. “Don’t stroke to soothe her. Just use the pressure. You can sway her very slightly from side to side. But no light touch. She can’t stand light touch.”
I gave a sharp nod as Vicky burrowed further into my chest.
Ollie’s heavy hand fell on my shoulder when he arrived next to us. “Give her to me,” he snapped, all ducal authority, which just pissed me off.
Where was he when his sister was being grabbed by some random bloke?
“I’ve got her,” I said firmly, glaring at Ollie. Then in a much lower voice, I asked, “Why’s she reacting like this?”
“She’s Autistic,” Ollie said, and suddenly, the puzzle pieces all seemed to fall into place.
“Why has nobody bothered to tell me that?”
Lottie shook her head. “She doesn’t want people treating her differently.” Then she bit her lip as if deciding whether or not to continue. When she spoke again, I could only just hear her above the fireworks. “Especially you .”
I shook my head at the level of fuckwittery happening here.
So Vicky’s mind worked differently. There was no shame in that. What’s with all the secrecy? Christ, when I thought about all the jacked-up crap I’d said to her when I thought she was just a cold, stuck-up lady of the manor wanting to get her end away with a bit of rough, I felt ill.
But I didn’t have all the information, did I?
“Well, how the fuck did you let this happen?” I said, furious with myself, but even more angry with her useless fucking brother. “You must have known how this was going to go down. Why is she even here?”
Vicky whimpered, and I felt my heart break right then and there, in the middle of this poncy bloody party.
I shifted her to encase her further into my arms, and she burrowed into me again.
“Lottie was supposed to make sure she left,” Ollie said through gritted teeth.
“ You’re her brother, mate.” I snapped.
“Where were you when your sister was hurt?” Ollie cracked back, and I stiffened.
I was about to blast him for this latest blatant bullshit—I was a great brother, thank you very much––but another small whimper from Vicky stopped me from unleashing on the Duke of Fuckingham.
I needed to make the small woman in my arms a priority.
I could haul this prick over the coals for neglecting her later.
“Look, can we just concentrate on sorting Vicky?” Lottie asked.
“Right, well, I’m going to be the one sorting Vicky out,” I told them both.
We were now attracting a fair bit of attention, and I had a feeling Vicky would hate to be seen like this.
Making a snap decision, and before either of them could say anything, I scooped Vicky up into my arms, held her tightly so that her face was still planted in my chest and hidden from the overly interested crowd, and strode off towards the exit with Ollie and Lottie trailing after me.
Once we were outside in the driveway, I went straight to my massive, ancient, mud-covered Land Rover and put Vicky on her feet to wrap her in my dinner jacket, which was so huge on her that it came down to her knees. I then lifted her up and deposited her on the front passenger seat.
Ollie blocked me as I tried to round the vehicle to get in myself.
“ I’ll take her home,” Ollie growled. “You don’t know what you’re?—”
That was when my temper snapped.
“No, I don’t know what I’m dealing with because none of you fuckers bothered to tell me,” I semi-shouted. “You’ve dropped this ball, Harding. It was me she wanted to go to in there. Me who held her through it, and it’ll be me that makes sure she’s okay.”
Ollie glared at me, clearly not going to move, but then Vicky’s shaky voice piped up through the now-open window of the Land Rover.
“I’ll stay with Mike,” she said, and that was all I needed to hear.
Despite my complete dickbag tendencies, she was still choosing me.
So I tuned both of them out to concentrate on her. Once in the truck, I put my arm over the back of Vicky’s seat to look over my shoulder and reverse, then tore out of the driveway.