Chapter Two
Drew
Drew hated weddings, even more so when he was in them, but he’d make an exception for Josh and Ruby.
Their obvious love for each other was enough to melt even the coldest hearts.
He would’ve counted himself in that camp ten years ago, but not now.
It wasn’t quite as frozen since making a life for himself here and finding his people.
His true people. Because people will lie to you, tell you they are your family, that you can trust them, spin pretty lies on pretty tongues that taste like honey, until the rot sets in and the truth falls in one dramatic sweep of the curtain.
He’d fallen in with the wrong crowd. Crowd was a polite word for it.
Gang. The Lion Crew. At the tender age of fifteen, when he was still living in Atlanta with his family, he’d served as a loyal mule and dealer for them.
He’d worked his way up their ranks, supervising deals, and doling out punishments for late payers or the ones who ran.
There was no outrunning the Lion Crew, they always caught up with you in the end.
It’s how he got his scar. Their leader, Max, had heard whispers of his wanting to leave not two months after he’d joined, after he’d witnessed the beating and stabbing of a man, a junkie, who didn’t have the funds to pay up.
Max had decided to teach him a lesson, to mark him as theirs.
He could still feel the cool steel of the knife as it marked him, ruined him.
That’s when he knew he had to run. Not from them.
No, they were to be his new family ... he ran from his parents, to protect them, and served Max loyally from then on.
Soon, the ice around his heart had frozen, locked in place, until the day came six years later when he watched Max mark a kid no older than thirteen, and he knew he needed out before he was asked to do the same.
It felt cowardly, running, but he did. And he knew, even if you cut the head off the snake that a new one would form in its place, and he wouldn’t wait around for the retribution.
The gang had made him rich, and he made use of the money, faking his death and moving to New York, but not before changing his name.
He used the rest of the money to invest in his business, his line of luxury gyms, which then turned into sportswear.
It was one of the only things he’d asked of Alana.
No photos, no videos. Keeping his identity private.
Her contacts did just that; any photo of him that made it onto the internet, CCTV, anything and everything, got wiped.
Not cheap, but worth it. So worth it. It was then that he decided he liked Alana.
That first day. She didn’t ask him any questions, just provided him with solutions.
Since that day, he’d helped her fill her books with a range of billionaire clientele.
The meal finished, the speeches done, meant that the dance floor opened. As well as the bar. He headed straight for the latter, pulling out his card ready to splash all his money on a decent cider. He took his drink back to the table and placed one in front of Josh.
“Not got anything for the bride?”
Fuck.
He moved the bottle from in front of Josh to Ruby, and grinned. “Of course, enjoy,” he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
He liked her. He liked her before he even met her because Alana did. She knew people, could read people, and even though Ruby had made a mistake it had all worked out, clearly, if the shit-eating grin on his friend’s face was anything to go by.
“I love this song! Dance with me, Drew?”
He nearly spat out his cider. The last thing he wanted to do was dance with Lola. She reminded him of a Jack Russell puppy, excitable and irritating. And it was a slow song playing, no less.
He plastered a smile on his face. “Sure, why not?” He took a swig and set his bottle down, walking to her side.
Alana cleared her throat. His eyes flew to her.
“I think the alcohol has gone to your head, Drew, how could you forget you promised me the first dance?”
He could’ve kissed her. See, she reads people, situations.
He grinned. “Yes, how could I?” he asked. “Sorry Lola, it seems I’m taken.”
Lola narrowed her eyes, before turning her attention to Pete. “Come on, I want to dance. Don’t make me dance with Dad.” Her voice trailed off as he walked to the center of the dance floor with Alana, offering her his hand and placing the other around her waist.
She didn’t look so sure of herself now. Like she wanted to help him out, but she didn’t actually want to dance with him. He couldn’t have that.
He removed the flower from his pocket and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers brushing the sensitive shell of her ear, and tangling slightly in her curls.
He heard her breathing hitch slightly, as her gaze met his. His heart picked up its rhythm. “That’s to thank you.”
She raised her brows. “For saving me,” he clarified.
A small smile played on her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really? In that case, maybe you’re jealous, couldn’t stand the idea of watching another woman dance with me, laugh with me,” he teased.
Flirting always came easily with Alana. His eyes narrowed, and he said in a lower tone of voice, his breath tickling her ear, allowing him to inhale her scent of vanilla, “Jealousy looks good on you.”
She snapped her head back, eyes flashing. “In your dreams.”
“Yes, nightly. And you do the filthiest things to me.”
She bit her lip, like she was holding in a laugh and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. It didn’t work, though, for a laugh bubbled out of her, lighting up her beautiful face. He stared for a moment, maybe a moment too long, as her features settled back into place.
The song stopped, and she stepped out of his arms. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to step back into them for another dance, when a flash of darkness in the corner of the room caught his eye. He squinted and blinked.
No. Impossible. It couldn’t be.
The features were the same, though. Tall, muscular, a stripe of white through his hair. It was him. Them. Max. They’d found him. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry, to be scared; it was more like everything froze, like the whole scene suddenly had a sheet of ice over it.
Then he was gone.
A trick of the light, maybe?
Too much alcohol?
Definitely.
He ran his hand through his hair. It wasn’t like he could talk to anyone about this.
He couldn’t book a therapy appointment .
.. Hi, yes. I’m running from my former life as a gang member where I broke numerous laws and now I’m seeing them at my best friend’s wedding.
No. That life was buried. His past self was buried. And he’d done the burying.
When Lola materialized into his sight line, he actually felt relief, accepting her invitation to dance.
Grateful for the distraction. As if any of them, let alone Max, would come here.
Weddings were a form of torture themselves.
His eyes cast around, landing on the happy couple, and he instantly felt a stab of guilt.
It’s not torture seeing your best friend this happy, he reminded himself.
Then he reminded his face, as he was dancing with said best friend’s sister right now.
“Enjoying New York, Lola?”
She beamed. “Sure am. I’m hoping to attend college here, fashion school, next year. So ... I’m going to need a tour guide.” She looked up at him from underneath her false eyelashes. They looked like two caterpillars laying lazily across her eyes.
He got her meaning. To let her down gently ... or just pretend he didn’t get her hints. Yeah, the latter would do.
“Yeah, that’s why it’s great having a brother who has settled in so well, he’ll make a great tour guide,” he said with a smile.
She wasn’t having any of it. With a light shake of her head, she said, “Or you could show me around?”
He liked directness, he appreciated it, but he would have to give a direct answer of his own. “Sure, of course I can show you around. My girlfriend can come, she knows all of the best spots.”
The word girlfriend had her lips twitching and her eyes casting around the room, landing, to his surprise, on Alana.
“So, how long have you two been going out, then?” she asked.
A little voice in his mind told him that this was a terrible idea, and another voice said, hey, not your idea, hers, you’re just rolling with it...
“Not long,” he lied, smooth as silk. “It’s very new, but things are going well.”
“Right,” she said, not bothering to hide the disappointment from her voice.
“But I do know,” he said in a low voice, conspiratorially, nodding his head over to a group of young men, “that they all happen to be very single.”
She perked up a bit. “Then maybe I’ll ask one of them to dance.”
He chuckled. “Go for it.”
He headed back to his drink before all the couples were invited onto the dance floor. Then he stalked over to Alana before his mind could allow him a second thought and gently pulled her, wide-eyed, back onto the dance floor.
When she could find her voice again, she said, “Sorry, I don’t remember agreeing to be your girlfriend.”
“Oh, it was so romantic, full of twinkling candlelight and doves flying.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, Drew, I don’t need my clients getting the wrong idea...”
Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. The last thing he’d want to do was mess with her business. He guided them so that they swayed in the corner, out of sight of everyone. It suddenly felt more intimate than he’d intended.
“This better?” he asked softly.
She nodded her head, her hazel gaze fixed on him. He’d never seen the appeal of hazel eyes until he’d looked into hers.
“Besides, most of them are busy trying to run away from Lola’s advances to be paying any attention to us.”
She laughed, throwing her head back, baring her neck to him.
Her lily-white skin shone with a sheer gleam of sweat from all the dancing.
He wanted to lean into it, lick it up. He leaned his head down toward her, and she froze, so he moved no further, allowing her to take the lead, to wherever that may be.
She closed the inches between them and rested her head on his.
They’d come close to a kiss before, and promptly never spoke of it again, a year ago, before Josh had come storming into her office, steam practically spilling from him in his anger at Ruby’s secret.
Her breathing quickened, and before he could stop himself, he dipped his head and closed the gap, their lips brushing.
Her lips were soft, sweet from the wedding cake, his bitter from the cider.
She rose to her toes, her arms moving tight around him as their tongues met, the sweet and bitter notes combining together in a furious kiss.
Before he knew it, too quickly it had stopped, like the final note of a song.
She placed her hand on his chest.
“No. No, that can’t happen again.”
“No matter how much you want it to?”
She met his gaze. “No matter how much I want it to.” With that, she walked away to join Ruby.
He exhaled through his nose. His body was covered in her scent, his mouth tasted of her.
She should walk away from him. It was for the best. He should never have put her in this position. His past was a ticking time bomb waiting to catch up with him. There were monsters in the shadows, and they were waiting to pounce.