Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
ISAAK
I’m struggling to keep my temper under wraps. I was a bad boy.
I listened in on their conversation outside the mansion. There was nothing the piss-ant could’ve said to make the situation inside any better, but I wanted to hear him try.
Instead of falling on his knees, weeping and begging her forgiveness—not that that ought to have worked, either—he tried some bullshit that took bullshit to a whole new level.
I manage to be quiet for about two whole minutes until the driver hops on the 75 north toward our hotel. “So, did that bullshit he tried back there actually work? You still going to marry that prick?”
Her head whips toward me, mouth open. “That’s none of your business.”
“None of my business,” I huff. “When that fling of his might be chopping up gophers and dropping them in your bed? I don’t know if you heard her or not, but she threatened to kill you on the way out.”
“I think that was more of a threat to kill him.”
“There was an ambiguous threat of murder. Let’s agree on that.”
Kira sighs. “Becca didn’t mean it. She was just mad. Drew has a way of making girls go crazy when he breaks up with them. In tenth grade, Bethany Ann Tomlinson threatened to burn down his house.”
“That’s angry.”
“She had the gas and everything. She stood on his lawn howling at him for a good thirty minutes and managed to burn a quarter acre patch of grass before she was through.”
“Damn.”
“I’m telling you, women have spent nights in jail over this man.”
I snort. “ Boy , you mean. I didn’t see a man back there.”
She sighs. “Well, I might have to agree with you on that.”
“Oh yeah?” I perk up. “Finally seeing the light of day?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll still marry him,” she sighs as we exit the highway.
“Why the hell would you do a fool thing like that? It’s clear you don’t love him. And he sure as hell doesn’t love you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You asked the man, and he couldn’t say the three simple words any fiancé ought to be able to tell his woman, with no thought at all.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” She holds her hands to her forehead.
“Nothing should be complicated about love.”
“I’m starting to think marriage has nothing to do with love.” She sighs bitterly. “It’s time I accepted it.”
I stare at the woman, streetlamps occasionally illuminating her beautiful, young face as we get closer to the hotel. “What are you talking about? That makes no fuckin’ sense. What else could it be about?”
“For Drew, I think it’s about power and position,” she says thoughtfully, eyes focused somewhere out the window. “His dad befriended my dad so he’d always have a good friend who could be a wealthy donor for his political aspirations and connect him to other wealthy donors. Drew will follow in his father’s footsteps and be the next generation in a political dynasty. Relationships in this town are only built for what you can use somebody for.”
“And you? What do you get out of marrying that prick.”
She finally looks my way. “Oh, come on, you already know. It’s the oldest motivator of all. Money. If I marry Drew, I get my inheritance. I can open up my own practice.” Her eyes drift back to the skyline. “And I’ll finally be free from my mother. I just have to walk the path a little longer. Then I’ll get everything I wanted.”
“Will you? Really? Except you’ll be tied to that idiot and that life back there forever. You won’t be free. You’ll still be stuck going to those parties. Seeing your mom. Forcing yourself to smile and pretend everything’s fine. Pretending that the only way to live is to use people and be used in return?—”
“What about it?” she snaps, furious gaze finally coming back to mine. “Family is complicated and fucked up sometimes but they’re all we have. I just need a little fucking space after the wedding and I’ll be fine.”
“Will you? Family doesn’t just have to be blood, ya know. Some people choose their family. Better family.”
She shakes her head, expelling a huge breath. “That’s so easy for you to say. You were in the military. That’s like, built in family.”
I scoff. “I haven’t been eating MREs and dodging brass for over a decade. All my brothers are in the wind. I gave up on family. Only lately been trying to rebuild somethin’.”
“Oh.” She pauses then, eyes furrowing like she’s really seeing me, right as the car pulls up in front of the hotel. “So you know what it’s like. To be all alone.”
And she’s so fucking gorgeous, sitting there all desolately vulnerable as she clutches her fancy bag like it’s some sort of lifeline, all done up and beautiful in that ridiculous dress that looks like it was made for a woman fifty years older than her.
She’s so fresh to the world it’s an ache in my chest, her asking me about loneliness like it hasn’t been my own haunting ghost since I was just a boy.
“You shouldn’t be lonely,” is all I manage to get out gruffly before shoving open the car door and climbing out.
She joins me on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. I turn to go in, but look back to find her standing, looking wistful as she stares at the Dallas skyline, lit up in the dark.
“It’s so beautiful at night, don’t you think? All the sparkling lights. And knowing each light represents some little life happening.”
I pause and turn back to stand beside her.
“I think maybe lonely people see things other people don’t,” she continues, still staring out at the city lights. “Since we aren’t busy talking all the time. To anyone except ourselves, anyway.” She huffs out a small laugh, then finally turns her face into the light to look up at me.
Fuck. She’s even more beautiful awash in the halo of lights from the hotel awning. I swallow. Hard.
“You’re too young to be so fucking smart.”
That gets a genuine laugh out of her. “That I hear all the time.”
Then she lifts an eyebrow and proves maybe she’s not so grown up after all when she whispers, “Race you to the elevator!”
She takes off into the hotel before I’ve quite comprehended what she said, speeding as quickly as her dress and heels will allow.
I mean, I obviously keep up with her easily, and I can see it annoys her when she looks over her shoulder.
For a while after that, there’s no talking, just her trying to race me in her ridiculous outfit as I easily outpace her. But because I’m a sporting guy, I stay barely a half-step ahead. Enough so that I know it will really get her goat. And it does.
By the time we’re halfway across the hotel lobby, she’s all but sprinting in those heels. I slow down because I don’t want her to break an ankle, but then she starts to all-out run. I see the hotel security go on alert, but the laughter that rings from her throat by the time she gets to the elevators sets them back at ease. Especially when she starts to jump up and down childishly.
“I won! I won!”
“I let you win,” I say when I get up to her. “Otherwise, those security guards were going to execute a level two takedown on me.”
“Awww.” She makes mock-sympathetic eyes at me. “Is somebody a sore loser?”
I tilt my head at her. In her mad-dash flight, the hair that was kept up in its careful pins has come loose. I step forward and yank out several more until her glorious, wild red hair comes tumbling down.
The elevator pings behind her as her eyes hit mine, searching.
We have one of those suspended-in-time moments as our gazes linger.
Oh fuck.
Then, at exactly the same time, I reach to grasp her waist as she throws her arms around my neck.
We walk her backward into the elevator, our lips colliding.