26. Emory
26
EMORY
I fluff the bottom of my floor-length white lace gown, trying to inch up the back a little so it doesn’t look like a train. You would think after years, my dad or at least one of his assistants would come up with a new theme. But no—every year, it’s the same. Black and white. With the tacit understanding that men wear black tuxes and women wear white gowns. In other words, everyone looks like they are getting married. It’s beyond ridiculous, but when I tried to talk to my dad about it once, he essentially told me to stay in my lane.
So here I am, in a fucking wedding dress, trying to make it appear to look less like a wedding dress. I wish I could be like Allie, who says fuck the patriarchy and wears a black knee-length bodycon dress that fits her like a glove every year. For some reason, my dad lets it go. If I pulled a stunt like that, he would never let me hear the end of it.
I didn’t think about this awkward detail when I asked Luke to be my plus one. He’s going to think I’m crazy. I also forgot to mention to him that my dad always insists on sending a limo to pick me up. Of course, I have to look the part of a successful CEO’s daughter. I can’t possibly come rolling down the driveway in my Acura.
The mere thought of Luke makes my knees weak. He made good on his word the other day, teasing me to the point that I was begging and pleading with him. I think I even told him I would name my firstborn child after him. He seemed really amused by that, but he still didn’t let up. Not until he knew I was holding on by a thread. Then he made me explode. My clit throbs and goosebumps rise along my arms at the memory. I shake my head. Keep it together, Emory.
Allie comes into my room and looks drop-dead gorgeous as usual. She’s wearing her skin-tight black dress and black Louboutins. She even traded her glasses for contacts tonight. Her makeup is bold, with subtle smoky eyes, intense black liner on the tops of her lids, and perfect scarlet-stained lips.
“Damn, girl. You look…”
“Thanks,” she winks as she looks me up and down. “Oh shit. Did I miss the rehearsal dinner?”
“Funny,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“My gift was backordered,” she goes on. “Spoiler alert: I got you the blender. Everything else on your registry was ugly or already taken.”
“If you’re done, can you please button me up?”
“Oh, you mean the buttons running down your wedding dress?”
I sigh. This is going to be a long night.
You know what? Fuck this. I bat Allie’s hand away when she reaches out to button the back of the dress and rip it off.
“Easy there, tiger,” Allie says as she puts her hands up in surrender. “You told me to button…”
“I’m not wearing this dress,” I say firmly.
A smile forms on the edges of her lips, and mischief dances in her eyes. “I’ve got you.”
Ten minutes later, Allie finishes the last of the buttons on the back of my black corset midi dress, complete with a ruched tulle skirt. To finish off the look, I ditched the satin pumps for my black Converse. I turn back around to give myself a once-over in the mirror. My chestnut hair falls in thick waves to my shoulders. My makeup is clean and understated—some mascara, light liner, and blush. That is aside from the bright red lip stain Allie painstakingly applied.
Happy with the outcome of my last-minute costume change, I grab my clutch just as there’s a knock at the door. An unintentional gasp escapes me as soon as I open it. Luke is wearing a fitted black tux with a black shirt underneath. His hair is styled perfectly, off to the side, with just one piece curling over his face. He’s sporting two thick black studs in his ears, and I can see the swirly ink of his intricate chest tattoos peeking out from beneath his shirt. I look down and notice he isn’t wearing dress shoes. He’s wearing fucking black combat boots. My core pulses and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to just forget about the gala. It will go on without us…but then he finally breaks the silence.
“Shit, Em. You look…”
“Yeah,” I smile. “You too.”
He clears his throat and steps forward, holding his arm out.
“May I escort you to our car?” he drawls, a slight hint of a Southern accent making an appearance.
“Yes,” I breathe, linking my arm in his. “Oh, but…I forgot to tell you. We have to take a limo. I know it’s annoying, but my dad sends it every year and?—”
“Yeah, I know. I figured it out when I saw the limo pull up.”
“Oh, right.”
“Hurry, guys. Before they run out of the Beef Wellington bites,” Allie pushes past me and Luke, heading out toward the limo.
Luke shakes his head and guides me out behind her. But as he does, I get a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, like something isn’t right. I get the same feeling at work sometimes.
Right before an insane shift.
We pull up to my dad’s mansion, and it’s completely decked out. The grounds are perfectly landscaped with hydrangeas and peonies spilling out around the marble fountains in the garden. Lanterns dangle from every tree, casting a soft, enchanting glow. Twinkling lights weave through archways and drape the ivy-covered gazebo to the far left of the property. Larger lanterns line the circular driveway, guiding guests to the illuminated entrance, where the front steps are covered in white rose petals. I guess that goes with the whole wedding theme.
Our limo pulls up to the front, and I take a deep breath as Luke gets out, sliding in front of our driver to open the door for us. The driver looks put out that someone stole his job, but he adjusts his expression to reflect one of unbiased servitude. Luke helps me out of the car and then holds his hand out for Allie. To my utter shock, she takes it. She even links her arm with his when he holds it out to her after taking mine.
The evening air is perfect, with almost no humidity and a cool summer breeze that flows through the trees, causing the lanterns to sway. But I suddenly feel like it’s a hundred degrees. What was I possibly thinking? Nate is going to flip out when he sees me and Luke together. We walk up the front steps and are greeted by several of my father’s staff, who welcome us and offer glasses of champagne. Allie snatches one up, downs it, and then holds her hand out for another. The waiter gives it to her, and then the three of us make our way further into the party.
I see Nate right away. He’s standing straight ahead of us, talking to Ashton’s parents. My heart slams against my chest. He looks at us, holding his finger up to them and mumbling something, then starts walking our way.
Shit.
“What is this?” he says, motioning between Allie, Luke, and me. “Hello to you too,” Allie snarks, but Nate doesn’t look amused.
I glance at Luke, who is starting to open his mouth.
“Allie took Luke as her plus one,” I blurt as I pull my arm out from Luke’s. “He was just escorting us both in, since I don’t have a date.” Nate looks at all of us individually, suspicion etched across his features. I sneak another peek at Luke. There’s obvious disappointment on his face, and my heart crumples. This is the second time I have announced that we’re not together in public.
“Interesting,” Nate finally says, turning his full attention to me. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler are asking about you. I didn’t know you knew them.”
“I’m friends with their son, Ashton.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Something catches his eye, and he looks down at the floor. “Are you wearing sneakers?”
“God, Nate, can you not let anything go?” I snap, and I can’t help the venom that drips from my words. I’m angry. Angry at Nate for making me crush Luke like that. Angry at myself for being a coward.
“Right, well, you should come and say hello to them.”
“Lead the way,” I say as I gesture in front of me. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” I look back at Allie and Luke. She doesn’t skip a beat, pulling Luke in a little bit closer to her to sell my lie. He pulls his arm away from her, and I catch the storm brewing in his ocean eyes. He hates me. He’s going to run out of the house. But then he moves his hand and presses his palm against the small of her back, guiding her away from me. The sting of that simple gesture is excruciating. What hurts worse is the knowledge that he’s not doing it to make me jealous or prove a point. Luke Collins is not a petty man. No, he’s doing it because he thinks it’s what I want. Because despite being angry with me—despite being hurt by how casually I dropped him like he was on fire mere seconds ago—he will do whatever he thinks I want. He’s too good of a man to let me be embarrassed in front of everyone.
I force myself to turn away from him and walk down the hall with my brother. The next hour is spent in a whirlwind of expensive aftershave and blonde updos, getting caught by various acquaintances of my father who want to know what’s new in my life since I last saw them a year ago. Are you still working at that hospital? Yes. Are you going to join the company? No. Are you seeing anyone special? Special doesn’t even cover it, but I may have just ruined it anyway. I have no idea what Luke is thinking right now, and all I want to do is talk to him. The irony of that doesn’t escape me. I want him to know I’m not giving up on us, and I will tell Nate eventually.
I finally get away from Mrs. Evans, who has casually mentioned about five times that her son has taken up sculpting and is really good with his hands. Will these people stop at nothing to whore out their children? Jesus. The cocktail reception is almost over, so the plated dinner and speeches will start soon. I need to talk to Luke before then, but I don’t see him or Allie anywhere.
I spot Ashton heading toward me, his light brown hair perfectly styled and a twinkle in his eye.
“Hey, partner in crime,” he says as he slides up next to me. “You look like you’re ready to walk down the aisle.”
“Don’t remind me,” I mutter. “Have you seen Allie anywhere?”
His eyes flash with heat at the mention of her name, but he suppresses it and attempts to look unbothered.
“Nope.” He gets that mischievous look he sometimes gets. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet tonight.”
I roll my eyes at him. I don’t have time for whatever cat-and-mouse game they have going on. I need to find Luke.
“Okay, well I’m going to go circle around and see if I can find them.”
“Them?”
“Her,” I correct myself. I don’t feel like explaining everything to Ashton right now.
I give him a little wave and head to the backyard where dinner will be served. Maybe they went out early to find their seats. As I’m making my way to the lanai doors that overlook the back patio, one of my dad’s assistants, Casey—I think her name is—stops me.
“Hey, Emory. I’m so sorry to ask you this, but some of the candles on the tables went out. Your father wanted battery-operated ones after the incident last year.” She puts down the tray of glasses she’s carrying. “Anyway, I stashed a bunch of extra ones in the gazebo. Any chance you could grab them for me? I have some fires to put out over here. Not real ones, like last year, of course,” she clarifies, giggling nervously. “But you know?—”
“Of course,” I interrupt her. “I’m happy to help. I’ll go get them now.”
She looks relieved as she picks up the tray of glasses again. “Thank you, Em! You’re a godsend,” she gushes before scurrying away.
Shit, I still need to find Luke. I take a quick peek outside, but there are only a few older men smoking cigars on the balcony. I let out an exasperated sigh and head out to the gazebo.
The white box of candles is behind one of the benches. It’s dark now, and the moonlight shines through the openings, casting shadows along the wooden beams. I bend over to pick up the box, but freeze when I hear a shuffling sound behind me, like footsteps on wood. I drop the box, quickly jerking around to see what made the noise.
And there he is, standing at the entrance of the gazebo. Despite the darkness outside, between the moonlight and the twinkle lights, I can see him clearly. He looks the same as the last time I saw him, but now he has a deep reddish-purple bruise under his right eye, framed by his messy blonde waves. It’s fresh, not like the fading ones I saw last time. His disheveled appearance is further manifested by his loosened tie and untucked shirt.
Jaxon.
Fear bubbles up from my stomach and it’s that same feeling I had in the hallway with Mason. Fight or flight. Just like last time, there is nowhere to run. Jaxon is blocking the entryway of the gazebo.
“Jaxon.”
He puts his hands up as though to appear non-threatening. “I just want to talk, Emory. You’re a hard girl to get alone. Luckily, I saw you coming out here just in time.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“It was wrong of me to pressure you last time,” he goes on as if I didn’t say anything, “I wasn’t very nice that evening. But I’m ready to be nice now. Don’t you want me to be nice?”
He starts to inch closer, and I can smell the booze emanating from him. He’s drunk. The whites of his eyes are streaked with red. Probably high, too. I go to grab my phone from my clutch, but it’s still on the bench behind me where I put it down to pick up the box of candles.
“Emory. Princess,” he says, sliding closer. “Remember how nice I was when you were good? When you listened and did what you were supposed to do? It’s only when you were bad that I had to punish you. But I never hit you. I never forced myself on you. I’m not my father. I’ll never be like that piece of shit.” He spits, and a glob of saliva lands on the side of one of the benches, sliding down slowly and pooling on the wooden floor beneath it. My eyes flick to it and then back up to him.
“Jaxon. Let’s go inside and talk,” I try.
“No. I’m done with those assholes.”
Change the subject. Deflect. Distract him.
“What happened to your cheek?” I ask gently.
He looks up and his eyes darken. “Misunderstanding.”
“Okay. Why don’t we go inside, and I can patch you up.” I’m grasping at straws. He’s right. He has never physically abused me. His abuse of choice was emotional. Psychological. But who is to say he won’t start now? He did grab me the other night.
He drank in college, but I never saw him do drugs. Clearly, he has been living hard since he moved away, and he seems unhinged right now. Plus, he obviously just got into some sort of physical altercation.
He grins, and his gums look red and slightly inflamed.
“Always the little nurse, my Emory. Always taking care of everyone. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You were so busy taking care of everyone else that you neglected me. You never had time for me.”
He stiffens. Shit, that backfired. I take an inconspicuous step back, hoping he won’t notice, so I can get closer to my clutch. I don’t stand a chance if he attacks me. Jaxon has like six inches on me. Although his senses are dulled and his reaction time is probably lagging, so maybe I can take him by surprise. But if I can get my pho?—
“Does he make you come?”
Jaxon looks at me with an almost boyish innocence, despite the words that just came out of his mouth, but it’s just another one of his sick games. I’m so shocked by his words that I halt my backward movement. But then rage boils deep in my gut and I’m no longer trying to survive. I’m tired and angry, and he has no right to ask me about my fucking sex life.
“Are you kidding me right now? That’s none of your fucking business,” I growl.
“There it is,” he says excitedly. “There’s that fire I wanted. All these other girls just submit to me, and it’s gotten so predictable, you know?”
I’m simmering now, my blood thrashing violently in my veins. Fuck you, Jaxon. Fuck you. You don’t own me anymore. You can’t control me.
Say it.
Just say it.
Why can’t I say it?
“I only ask because I remember how difficult it was for you.” He shakes his head. “Took forever sometimes.”
Because you smelled like other girls.
Because you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing.
Because you didn’t take the time to learn what I like.
“Well, luckily you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” I say sweetly, gathering the courage to at least be passive-aggressive.
He starts to laugh but is cut off by a loud bang and the sound of wood splintering. I look up to see Nate standing at the entrance of the gazebo, blood dripping from where his fist hit the wall.
“Get the fuck away from my sister, you piece of shit.”
Oh my God.
Did Nate just hear all that? Was he listening this whole time? Nate advances on Jaxon, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pushing him up against the wall. I shriek when I hear Jaxon’s head thud against the wood. He doesn’t stand a chance right now. Jaxon is tall, but Nate’s taller by a few inches. And stronger. Plus, he has the added advantage of being stone-cold sober. Nate rarely drinks because he doesn’t like the loss of control.
“Nate,” I hear a feminine voice call out, and then Allie appears. She puts her hands on her knees, gulping lungfuls of air, like she ran all the way here from the house.
She glances up, and a look of horror crosses her face as she surveys the scene in front of her. “Nate…” she says again, still catching her breath.
“Stay the fuck out of this, Allie. This is family business.”
I keep my eyes glued to Nate and Jaxon, but I catch Allie wince out of the corner of my eye. Allie is family. Why would he say that? She looks like she wants to jump into action, but she remains still.
“I told you what would happen if you came back, didn’t I?” He pushes Jaxon back again. “Was I not clear enough last time?” His voice thunders through the enclosed space.
Last time? What is he talking about?
“Nate, please let him go. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”
Am I sure of that? No. But I don’t want Nate to end up in jail for murder, which is where things are heading right now.
“I let him go once already. I’m not making that mistake again,” he says as he moves his hand up and covers Jaxon’s throat, squeezing.
“Nate, please,” I beg, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“I should have done this years ago.”
“Years ago? As in…” And then realization slams into me like a tidal wave. I told you what would happen if you came back. I let him go once already.
Nate sent Jaxon away.
After graduation. He didn’t want to leave without me. Nate threatened him.
“You knew,” I spit out. “You knew about me and Jaxon.”
“Yes,” Nate rasps, still gripping Jaxon’s throat. His eyes are bugging out and he’s gasping for air.
“But how…” It’s a split second. I wouldn’t have even noticed it if I wasn’t laser focused on everything happening around me. But I do notice it. I see the second Nate’s eyes stray to where Allie stands.
“Allie?” I ask, turning around to look at her.
“Emory. He was killing you,” she pleads. “Every time you cried yourself to sleep in my arms. Every time he made you think you were worthless. He took a piece of you every single time. There would have been nothing left if you had gone to California. We never would have gotten you back.”
“That was my decision to make. Not yours.”
“I know.”
“You promised me.” Of all the people in my life, Allie is the last person who I thought would ever betray me.
We are family. Not the kind you are born with—the kind you choose.
It hurts so much more coming from her.
“I know,” she says again, her blue eyes flooding with tears.
“You know?” I snap. “Allie, you sat there rubbing my back while I cried my eyes out. You carried me out of the bathroom when I couldn’t get off the fucking floor. And the whole time, you knew ? You fucking knew Nate made him leave, and you didn’t tell me.”
Allie lets out a soft sob and Jaxon makes a strangled noise, his hands grasping and clawing at Nate. I clamp my mouth shut. Even on the verge of death, Jaxon doesn’t get to hear any more about how much he affected me back then.
That’s when I realize something. My brother is going to kill my ex-boyfriend with his bare hands. And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.