Ten
HEATH BACKS AWAY FROM ME SO AbrUPTLY, HE practically leaves a man-shaped dent in the wall behind him.
I almost laugh. Scratch that – I do laugh.
Though I press my knuckles to my swollen lips to try to stem the noise, I can’t restrain a quiet snort at the sight of my fake boyfriend, flushed bright red for reasons that have nothing to do with where his mouth just was, gaping like a fish at my very real brother.
‘Belfort,’ comes out as a low croon, just as evil as the fucking glint in Sebastian’s eyes. ‘Having fun?’
Heath practically blurs with how hard he shakes his head. ‘No.’
My hand flicks out in a mildly offended, questioning gesture. ‘No?’
‘Yes.’ That poor, startled deer-like expression briefly swings my way before hastily returning to my brother. ‘I mean, no. I was—’
‘Defiling my sister in a dark hallway?’ Sebastian tuts, as if his sensibilities are anywhere close to being delicate. ‘For shame.’
As Heath starts to turn purple, I take pity on him. ‘Enough, Seba.’
‘Kidding.’ He holds his hands up, brandishing an innocence he does not possess. ‘Defile away. God knows she needs it.’
I don’t give him the satisfaction of rising to that. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘What am I doing here?’ Eyes wide, Sebastian sidles closer so he can coil my hair around his forefinger and yank. ‘What are you doing here, my little recluse? Besides getting pregnant.’
I bat him away with a choked huff. ‘I’m just . . . y’know. Hanging with friends.’
‘Disculpa.’ Seba fakes confusion, but he is completely honest in his depiction of a massive asshole. In Spanish, he continues, ‘I think there’s a language barrier. Repeat that for me?’
‘Fuck you.’
His grin is pure wicked. ‘That’s Heath’s job, apparently.’
Mine is pure warning. ‘You’re gonna give him a heart attack.’
‘Karma, for the extensive eye-washing session I’m now in need of.’ He chucks me gently upside the chin before shifting his saccharine expression to the unusually pale man watching us cautiously. ‘Relax, Belfort. I’m just fucking with you. Not the way she’s fuck—’
‘You have five seconds to get out of here before I kill you.’
My threats only make my brother snicker, and my attempts to shove him back into the bar only have him rebounding. ‘Seriously, Dani. What’re you doing here?’
‘Seriously, I’m here with friends. Heath got mentioned in this big sports article so we’re celebrating.’
‘You couldn’t celebrate in a bed?’
‘Seba.’
‘I’m kidding. Jesus.’ Losing at least a little of that sarcastic edge, he lifts his chin at Heath. ‘Congrats, man.’
‘Thanks,’ Heath croaks, and I take one little selfish, unreasonable second to revel in rattling such an unflappable man.
‘Carry on.’ Blowing a cheesy kiss that makes me groan, Sebastian finally grants us mercy and moves toward the back door. Right as his fingers graze the wood, it starts to swing inwards.
And in walks something else straight out of my nightmares.
Ben comes up so short, the door almost smacks him in the face – I lament the moment he saves it. Clutching the edge with a white-knuckled grip, his nostrils flare as he realizes he’s walked into what I’m pretty sure is a trio straight out of his nightmares too.
He never did like my brother.
‘Oh.’ The brother in question gasps, the noise quickly dissolving into a laugh – a knee-slapping, belly-aching, certifiable cackle. ‘Oh, this is amazing.’
Ben is nowhere near as amused. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’m just imagining what would’ve happened if you walked in on what I just did.’ That cackle reaches witchy levels. ‘Damn. Need to work on my timing, huh?’
‘For fuck’s sake, Seba.’ For fuck’s sake, universe. ‘Basta,’ I hiss, shoving the doubled-over bane of my fucking existence toward the back exit. ‘Vete. Por favor.’
Finally, Sebastian disappears, though I’d bet everything in my bank account that he’s on the other side of that door, ear pressed to the wood.
Not that there’s anything to hear. Just a whole lot of heavy breathing. Not me, not Heath, just Ben and his rage as his tiny drunken mind slowly pieces together what, exactly, he almost walked in on.
I think it’s the hickey on my chest that really slots the puzzle pieces into place for him.
His nostrils flare wide enough to flash brain. With an incensed grunt, Ben stumbles in my direction only to be cut off by Heath moving in front of me, blocking me from sight, muttering a vaguely threatening ‘Don’t even think about it.’
I hear another enraged exhale. More unsteady footsteps stomping down the hall.
And, right before my ex disappears, an oh-so-subtly coughed slut.
‘Excuse me?’ someone else beats me to hissing.
Someone else beats me to slapping down the dismissive middle finger Ben flashes. Grabbing him by the shoulder, Heath yanks him to a stop, and my drunken ex wobbles as his sober-ish fake successor forces him to turn around. ‘You wanna say that again?’
Ben shrugs him off, shoves him back. ‘Fuck off, Belfort.’
‘Hey.’ Heath clamps a hand around my ex’s forearm. ‘Apologize.’
‘Suck my dick,’ Ben snarls, as he rips himself free. ‘God knows your girlfriend’s done that enough.’
I snort. God knows that’s a lie. As soon as I learned he wasn’t all that fond of reciprocation, my mouth closed for business. But if he’s going to get dirty, then, hey, who am I not to join in? ‘Worst five seconds of my life, every time.’
A strangled noise leaves Heath. He faces me just long enough to fix me with a pleading look. ‘Baby, don’t make laugh right now.’
I mouth an apology I don’t really mean, but it’s okay. It’s not me he’s really seeking one from anyway. It’s Ben who he looks down his nose at, Ben whose sternum he jabs at sharply, Ben who he once again demands to, ‘Apologize. Right now.’
‘Fine,’ Ben snaps, but I was with the guy for almost two years – I know what he sounds like when he’s being a shitty little weasel, and God knows he sounds like that right now.
‘I’m sorry,’ he starts, and I’m already prepared for the very opposite of an apology that follows, ‘that I didn’t dump you sooner.
And I’m so sorry,’ he shifts that manic gaze to Heath, ‘that you’re stuck with that now. ’
‘I’m fucking warning you—’
I lift a hand, halting Heath’s chivalry. I don’t need it. Dealing with Ben and his hissy fits is a particularly well-honed skill of mine. ‘Y’know,’ I drawl, my face perfectly, infuriatingly blank. ‘One of these days, your insults might actually hurt.’
‘One of these days, you might stop being a raging bitch.’
‘Wouldn’t bet on it.’
‘Slut,’ he slurs.
Faking a yawn, I grab Heath’s waistband to keep that tightly wound, practically vibrating body from pouncing. ‘Real original, Benjamin.’
‘You’re desperate.’
‘For you to piss off? True.’
‘Frigid freak.’
Now that has me flinching. Only a little.
I catch myself, and I can only pray Ben doesn’t notice the slip.
Hurriedly releasing Heath, I curl my hands into fists and focus on the bite of my nails into my palms instead of the panicked thumping behind my ribcage.
‘Don’t you have someone else to bother? Your current girlfriend, maybe? ’
Ben’s mouth quirks, and I know, without a doubt, that my prayers have gone unanswered. ‘Y’know what, yeah. I will go find her. I think I’ll bring her home. Let her know she’s worth more than a quick fuck in a hallway.’
Don’t I silently get as close to begging as I’m likely to get.Don’t fucking do it.
‘Gotta say,’ he drawls, and I hate him, I hate myself for ever being with someone who could look so satisfied at my impending fucking doom. ‘It’s pretty nice having a girlfriend who doesn’t need to choke me to get off.’
My entire body goes up in flames. ‘Shut the fuck up.’
‘What?’ Blue eyes widen, but they don’t even attempt to look innocent. ‘You don’t want your boyfriend to know you’re a little freak? Jesus, man, the shit she wanted to do to—’
The crack of knuckles colliding with a jaw ends that sentence for him.
My knuckles. His jaw. Smarting cartilage that I cradle as I curse. Hard bone that Ben palms. Fingertips that come away bloody as they find a lip that a tooth must’ve caught as collateral. ‘What the fuck, Daniela?’
Beyond vicious bilingual profanity, I’m incapable of a real response.
Of detailing how despicable I find him, how much I hate him in this moment, how he deserves so much worse than a fist to the face.
I’m too angry, too mortified, and when he opens that fucking bleeding mouth again, my eyes brim with burning, frustrated tears.
‘What was that?’ Ben questions, shrieks, and mocks, all at once. ‘Foreplay? You wet now, babe?’
With a shriek of my own, I lunge at him again, almost managing to snag a fistful of his shirt before an arm hooks around my waist and yanks me away.
‘Enough,’ a low voice croons in my ear, and my throat clogs with bile, with so much more than embarrassment. ‘He’s not worth it.’
He’s dead, is what he is. I think I might actually kill him. I promise, in every language I know, that I will. And I must really look unhinged right now, I must sound really fucking serious, because as the grip holding me back tightens, I swear my ex pales.
So lost in pure rage, so busy trying to escape strong, imprisoning arms, I barely register the back door swinging open again. ‘What the hell is going on in here?’
As if he’s likely to find any kind of sympathy from anyone in this hallway, Ben fucking tattles, ‘Your bitch sister just attacked me.’
‘You deserved it,’ three voices hiss in unison, and I would laugh at Sebastian’s dry, unwavering conviction in Ben’s fuckassery, if I wasn’t so busy trying to stifle overstimulated sobs.
My brother takes one look at me and winces. ‘You got her, Belfort?’
He does. He’s got me tight; he’s got me fucking airborne. Before I know it, Heath is hauling me out back, and then through a narrow alleyway that spits us out at the front of the building, tucked around a corner, hidden from anyone lingering in the outdoor area.
The second my feet hit the ground, they try to retrace his steps.
Heavy hands on my shoulders keep me in place. ‘Nuh-uh.’