Chapter 12
“Girl, I can’t believe you went to Italy without me,” Arena called over the pounding music inside the club.
We were on a rare night out without any of the guys.
Sinclair required a huge amount of persuading to let me out on my own.
It involved a whole lot of grovelling on my part and a blowjob in the shower in his bathroom before he would agree.
The blowjob had been my idea, not his, in an effort to get him to give in to me.
Not that I was complaining. I loved the sound of his groans and the flex of his body as he thrust into my mouth.
Arena snapped her fingers in front of my face to bring me back to the present, handing me one of the four tequila shots we’d ordered. “Did you hear me?”
I laughed, shaking my head and knocking back the shot. I cringed as the liquor burned down my throat. “Sorry, I spaced for a second. It was a very last-minute trip, Sinclair said he was flying to Milan, and I invited myself along.”
Not exactly a lie, but definitely not the truth either.
Arena’s gaze turned pitying and she downed her own shot. “Are things still tense between the two of you?”
All those months ago I’d believed Sinclair to be an unfeeling asshole who hated me.
I used to complain to Arena about what a jerk he was.
But I can’t tell her that jerk now makes me come harder than I ever could have imagined.
That he plays my body like a fucking piano, making me sing, then flips me over and does it again.
“I guess you could put it that way,” I said, trying my best not to lie to her again.
There was definitely tension between us, but it was the sexual kind now.
“Well, here’s to a night of freedom.” Arena handed me the second shot, clinking her glass with mine. We both drank them down, discarding the glasses on the bartop.
A gorgeous redhead siddled up to the bar on the opposite side of Arena. Arena’s eyes widened in excitement, and she mouthed “oh my god” at me.
I fought a smile, flagging down the bartender to order a cocktail and letting Arena do her thing. It was rare she got excited about anyone in our circles in Cape Canyon, the least I could do was let her have her moment.
Glancing around the club, I took in the writhing mass of bodies on the dancefloor. The couples hooking up in dark corners. The friends celebrating in the VIP booths. None of them looked weighed down by violent husbands and arranged marriages, or psychotic fathers and status-obsessed mothers.
How nice it must be to live a normal life.
Then my gaze snagged on a lone figure sitting down the other end of the bar from where I stood, broad shoulders, dark expression.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” I swore under my breath.
The fear that flooded me every time I laid eyes on my husband came pouring in, turning the liquor in my stomach.
All I’d wanted was one carefree night with my best friend where I didn’t have to carry my problems around like a weighted backpack that killed my mood and stole my sleep.
Instead, there was Boston, propped at the bar like he owned it and everyone in it, daring someone to cross him so he could work off the anger rolling off him like the devil’s aura.
How did he know I was going to be here? Was he threatening one of Byron’s household staff? Did he spend every waking moment plotting ways to get at me?
I knocked back a gulp of my drink, the alcohol giving me the delusional idea that I should confront him.
That I should march over there and demand he leave me the fuck alone forever.
If I didn’t do it soon, it would be Dacre or Presley or Sinclair who did, and that was a situation I couldn’t stomach.
I was pretty sure Boston wouldn’t hurt me. Not here at least. But ‘pretty sure’ wasn’t a certainty. Putting myself within his reach was a risk.
I glanced at Arena who was now completely occupied making out with the gorgeous redhead. When my gaze found Boston again, those dark eyes were trained on me, all the ways he wanted to torture me clear on his face.
Fuck this, I was done running scared. Cape Canyon was my home—my safe space as soon as my father, and maybe Trent, were taken care of—I didn’t want to let Boston infect it for another second.
Sucking in a deep breath to rally my confidence, I shoved through the crowd towards him. I stopped in front of him where he sat at the bar with his legs spread wide, a glass of clear liquor in his hand.
The female bartender shot me a smirk, like I wasn’t the first woman to approach him tonight.
“What the hell do you want from me?” I demanded, fuelled by rage and tequila.
He shifted in my direction, those dark eyes even more unnerving close up. They dropped down my body and back up again, and I resisted the shudder that threatened to roll through me.
I’d thought he was terrifying from across the street or a parking lot, but it was nothing compared to the fear running through me at being this close to him.
Without a word, he turned back to the bar, lifting his drink to his lips in obvious dismissal.
I let out a rueful laugh. “Wow, that’s it? Weeks of appearing everywhere I go just to stare at me, and now we’re finally speaking and you’ve got nothing to say? What a raging disappointment you are, husband.”
I crossed my arms over my chest with more confidence than I felt, waiting for his reaction. Why in the hell I was so determined to poke at a violent, masochistic beast, I had no idea. I’d blame it on the alcohol later, right now my indignation was making me bold.
I propped my arm on the bar beside him, leaning in close. “Tell me why the hell you’re doing this.”
My tone was edged with a desperation I hadn’t intended to reveal to him, but it was clear from the way his brow twitched that he didn’t miss it.
When he still didn’t respond, I shook my head, stepping back. “Stay the hell away from me. And stay away from my family.”
I turned away, determined to disappear into the crowd and convince Arena that it was either time to leave or get so wasted I no longer cared that Boston had stalked me here.
Large fingers closed around my wrist, stopping me.
I whirled, ready to fight him off if he tried to force me to go anywhere with him, but his words struck me silent.
“You know what I want.”
The bartender’s eyebrows shot up, proving her glass polishing was a front to listen in on our drama.
I swallowed, my stomach twisting in knots as I stared at Boston. “I’m never going to give you what you want. I’m never going back to Seattle with you.”
I yanked my wrist free.
“I just want to talk,” came his deep rumble over the music.
His hard eyes were locked on me, and it sent fear shooting through my core.
What the hell was I doing speaking to a guy who had the potential to hurt me worse than anyone ever had?
It wasn’t just the physical wounds I’d no doubt endure as Boston’s wife, it was the psychological ones too.
He would take me away from everyone I cared about and force me into a life of violent submission.
I wouldn’t willingly leave Sin, Pres, and Dacre.
Not ever. So any conversation was pointless.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
A muscle in his cheek twitched at my response. He reached for his glass, downing the contents, then he pushed to his feet.
He towered over me, and I faltered back a step to stop myself from colliding with his broad chest. The fear simmering inside me loomed large at the notion that maybe this was the moment he did it—this was the moment he overpowered me and dragged me from the club kicking and screaming.
But he moved around me, threading through the crowd towards the back of the club.
My mouth dropped open in surprise, but also relief. And maybe a small dash of outrage.
Without thinking it through, I went after him. By the time I reached him, he was in a hallway that led to the back exit of the club. A staff member with a mop and bucket moved past us, shooting us a glance, but he didn’t stop us.
“What the hell is the point of this?” I demanded and Boston stilled, but didn’t turn around. “To intimidate me? To scare me? If that’s the case, it’s working. I’m afraid of you.”
His hands slowly tightened into fists, his shoulders turning rigid, and I took a timid step back.
He moved like a coiled beast who could strike at any second.
It set my whole body on edge. He was every bit of the enforcer his reputation said he was, and I was pushing him for answers he clearly didn’t want to give.
But now that the moment was finally here after weeks in the making, I couldn’t stop myself.
“Do you like when women are afraid of you? Do you get off on it? Is that what this is? Some weird perversion where you get your kicks out of stalking me?”
He turned, his dark eyes narrowed on me in a way that made my stomach roil, and he moved back towards me.
“You think I like this situation?” he asked, voice a low rumble. My back hit the wall, and he moved in closer, his tone cold now. “You think I wanted any of this?”
He paused as if realizing there was only an inch of space between us at the same time I did. My breath came out in slow, shaky pants.
He was too close. Way too close.
His gaze roamed my face dropping from my eyes, to my throat, to my mouth, then back to my eyes again. His breath hit my face, his breathing as ragged as mine.
“Fuck’s sake,” he said, his deep voice its lowest rumble yet. “I don’t like this situation, Dempsey.”
He pulled back, the adrenaline coursing through me only abating silently as his absence against my body. He stalked his way to the back door, slamming this way through it.
I stared after him, my breaths still uneven and my heart pounding in my chest.
Had I just dodged death or drawn its attention even more?
Shaking out my trembling hands, I forced myself off the wall, heading back to the main room of the club and elbowing my way back to Arena. She finished swapping numbers with the redhead, took one look at my face and waved goodbye to her hookup.
Her gaze clung to me as she scrutinized my face. “It seems like the party might be over?” she said to me. “Is everything okay?”
I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek and glancing behind me to where Boston had left.
Arena shrugged. “Fine by me. I’m ready for sweats and an obscene amount of takeout in your giant home theatre.”
She threw an arm around my shoulders, and I hugged her around the waist, the two of us threading through the crowd for the door.
“You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, you know that, right?”
Arena snorted a laugh. “I’m also the only friend you have around here, you know that, right?”
I grinned. “You might be right, but don’t let that take away from the fact that I love you.”
She squeezed me tight. “I love you too, girl.”