by Odette Stone
“Hey.” I sat next to him. “Detective Christensen is here to see you.”
He cracked open his bloodshot eyes. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
He sat up, wincing, “Okay, tell her I’ll be right out.”
His dress shirt was covered in brown blood stains. “You might want to change your shirt.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, okay.”
“What happened to your face?” Detective Christensen said the moment she set eyes on Porter.
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. It was amazing how he could be hungover and probably even drunk yet present himself as entirely in control. “What brings you here today?”
She sighed and glanced between the two of us. “Porter, where were you between 3 AM and 4 AM last night?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Michael Renner was beaten up last night, and then he was shot.”
My head jerked back. “What do you mean, shot?”
She eyeballed me. “With a gun. He took one slug to his arm and another one to his chest.”
All I could think about was how Porter had shown up at 5 AM, covered in blood, talking about how he’d do anything to protect me. “Is he alive?”
“Renner’s alive and out of surgery. But the bullet wounds are the least of his concerns. Someone took one of his own golf clubs to his head, and he currently remains unconscious and in critical condition.”
“You think I had something to do with that?” Porter asked.
“I prefer to think of this as me clearing you, but I need to know where you were last night between 3AM and 4 AM.”
Porter’s eyes flickered to me. “I’d rather not say.”
“We can do this two ways, Porter,” Detective Christensen advised him. “But to be honest, I’d rather not drag you down to the station.”
“If I wanted to kill Renner, he’d be dead.”
“You’re not helping your cause,” she warned.
He sat beside me on the couch. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
Relief hit me hard. If Porter said he didn’t do it, I trusted him. “I believe you. Just tell her where you were.”
“You promise you’ll let me explain?” His eyes were on my face.
“Of course.”
He gave a short nod and said to Detective Christensen. “I was with my brothers until the bar closed. About 3 AM, I left the bar to go talk to my ex-girlfriend, Felicia.”
W.T.F.
I’m pretty sure I’d stopped breathing.
“We’re going to need her address.” Detective Christensen opened up her pad of paper.
He rattled off her address while I sat, frozen. Unable to move.
“And how did you get that fat lip?” she asked.
“My brother and I got into it at the bar.”
I moved further away from him on the couch while my mind raced. Porter had been with Felicia? Last night? I felt cold, then hot. I couldn’t even look at his face.
“Beth,” he said calmly. “Let me explain.”
Detective Christensen stood. “Sorry for this. I know this is your wedding day. I’ll be in contact with your ex-girlfriend with the purpose of clearing you from this crime. Don’t go far.” She let herself out.
“Beth,” he said in a soft voice. “Let me talk.”
I turned on him, feeling so much right now, I couldn’t even distinguish my emotions. “So, after you got into a bar brawl with your own brother, you decided, in the middle of the night, that you needed to go see Felicia.”
“I needed to talk to her.”
“You needed to talk to me. That’s what you told me.”
“I needed to talk to her first.”
“About what?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You want her back,” I accused him, standing up.
“No.” He grabbed my hand.
I was close to yelling. “No one goes to see their ex in the middle of the night unless they have feelings. Feelings that come out when they’re drunk. And you were stinking drunk.”
“You said you’d listen.”
“Not right now.” I yanked on my hand.
“Come on.”
“I know I have no hold over you. I know this isn’t a real relationship, but right now, everything I feel is real. And I’m too pissed to listen to you. I need to calm down.”
“We have to talk.”
“We will talk when I’m ready.”
I fought tears.
Fought emotion.
Fought the panic and fear threatening to bubble out of me.
Fought him.
Chapter 50
Emily sat beside me in my car, and we both peered at the big brick building. My phone was going off like a bomb. All the calls were from Roo and Mom.
“Is this where she lives?” Emily whispered.
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do about your wedding?”
My fake wedding that was scheduled to take place in five short hours. Fuck.
“I have no idea.”
“Do you want to talk to her?”
I tried to explain what had possessed to me to drive us here. “No. I’m here because I need to think.”
“What are you thinking?”
I avoided Emily’s eyes. “I thought when Porter said he wanted to talk to me, part of me was hoping…”
“Hoping that he wanted to marry you.”
“Yes.” I sighed, giving her a regretful look. “Stupid, right?”
“No. I’ve been hoping the same thing.”
We shared identical sad smiles.
The front door of the building opened and out stepped Felicia. She wore a cute little navy jumpsuit, and her long hair was pulled into a ponytail.
“There she is.” I sunk a bit lower in my seat.
“Go talk to her,” Emily encouraged.
I was about to refuse, but my body was already half-way out of my Corolla. I met Felicia on the sidewalk.
Her blue eyes widened when she saw me. “I’ve already told that detective everything I know.” She put her hand on her slim hip.
“Was Porter here last night?” I asked in a pleading voice.
“Yes.”
My heart sunk. “Okay. Thanks.” I started to turn away.
“It’s not what you think.”
I spun. “So, why was he here?”
“He showed up here drunk, looking for his ring.”
“What ring?”
“His grandmother left him her wedding ring. And I took it. Out of his boxes. I never gave it back to him.”
“You did?”
“He showed up here last night, ranting about it.”
Wait, what?
“I gave it back to him.”
I worked to say something. “Oh.”
She seemed genuinely regretful. “I’m sorry for ruining your engagement party and your cake.”
I didn’t give a shit about that. All I cared about was that Porter had shown up to get a ring!
“That’s okay.”
Her big blue eyes pensively studied the street behind me. “I needed Porter. I needed him to take care of me and act like he gave a shit. And he did take care of me. He never let me down. But it was never enough. I always wanted more from him. He did everything I asked, but he could never feel for me what I needed him to feel.”
I was humbled by her honesty. “I’ve been jealous of you since I met you.”
She tilted her head. “Don’t give up on Porter. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like he actually has a heart? He’s a hot mess.”
In a daze, I walked back to the car. I got in and stared unseeing through the windshield. Porter hadn’t wanted Felicia back. He'd shown up here, in the middle of the night, to get his grandmother’s ring back.
“Tell me,” Emily demanded, interrupting my befuddled thoughts.
I started the car, “I need to ta
lk to Porter.”
The second I walked back into the penthouse, Mom and Roo were all over me. “Beth, the hairdresser and makeup artist, are here. We need to get you ready,” my mom snapped.
I turned on both of them. “No. I’m not doing anything until I talk to Porter.”
“He’s not here.”
Apprehension squeezed my heart. “Where is he?”
“I’m assuming he went to the church to get ready. What is this about? Was Porter in a fight last night? Doesn’t he know we have to take pictures today?”
I held up my hands. “I need to talk to Emily.” I yanked her into my bedroom and shut the door. We stared at each other, wide-eyed. “What do I do?”
“Try calling him.”
“I knew you were the brains in this operation.” I hit dial on my phone. “Went to voice mail,” I said as I hung up.
“Are you going to leave a message?”
I paced back and forth across the room. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You need to show up at the church. In a wedding dress.”
“Emily,” I wailed. “What if he doesn’t show?”
“Isn’t that what you originally planned?”
“Yes!”
“So, what’s the issue?”
“The issue is I actually want to marry the guy now.”
“You’ve always wanted to marry him.”
“Fine. Rub it in.”
“I think he wants to marry you too.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He got his grandma’s ring back last night from Felicia!”
“That was before I refused to listen to him.”
“Well, you have three scenarios. You can possibly leave him at the altar, or he can leave you there.”
“That’s only two. What’s the third scenario?”
“You both show up, and you get married.”
I stood there completely still, for a moment and then I yelled over my shoulders, “Mom! I’m ready for the hair stylist.”
Chapter 51
Emily’s eyes glistened with emotion. “You’re a stunning bride.”
I turned and studied my reflection in the mirror. My $60,000 Vera Wang sleeveless wedding gown showcased my diamond choker and bare shoulders, falling into yards and yards of wispy tulle. My blond hair was pinned up. My make-up was as perfect as I’ve ever seen it. I looked dewy and soft. It was probably the best I’ve ever looked.
“All dressed up and nowhere to go.” I regretted the impulse to show up at my own wedding. “Which means I need more champagne.”
“You get two glasses.” She topped my glass. “And then you’re cut off.”
“I’m about 99% certain my groom is going to be a no-show. You can’t withhold the booze.”
She grabbed the bottle and topped her own glass. “One of us has to drive the getaway car, and since I never get a babysitter, this is my day to get drunk.”
I forced a laugh. “We can take a cab.”
“Fine, but if he does show up, you’re going to be upset if you’re falling down drunk. Maybe we should reserve the hard-drinking for after the fact.”
We clinked glasses, and I downed my champagne in one go.
Trying not to sound desperate, I asked, “Has anyone seen Porter?”
“Not yet.”
“Is Jackson here?”
“He’s not answering my texts.”
“Do you think Jackson will be Porter’s getaway man?”
“He never mentioned anything.”
I was so nervous I wanted to puke. “Have you see any of my bridesmaids?”
“Roo has them all corralled in the next room. Their dresses are gorgeous.”
“Porter made them change our colors to pink.”
“That’s very un-Porter of him.”
“He told Roo and Mom that every decision for the wedding had to be run through me.”
“How romantic!”
I grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it. There wasn’t enough champagne in this world to get me through today.
Emily pulled it away from me. “Are you going to be okay?” Concern filled her blue eyes.
“I don’t know why I thought he’d show up.”
“Don’t think about it.”
“My mom is going to be crushed.”
“What about you?”
“I won’t lie. This one’s going to hurt. But I’m prepared.”
Someone knocked on the door. I wrapped my arms around my waist, feeling sick. “Here’s the moment Roo tells me they can’t find Porter.”
She winced with pity. “You ready?”
“Let’s get this over with.” I called over my shoulder, “Come in.”
Roo stuck his head in the door. “You look perfect.”
My throat felt like sandpaper. “Thank you.”
He had a headpiece on his head, and he wore a tux. This was Roo in full-blown wedding mode. He touched his earpiece and spoke to someone, “Right. Thank you.” His tone was surprisingly authoritarian. “Guests are seated. Bridesmaids are lined up, ready to go. Your father is waiting for you, and the groom and groomsmen are waiting for their cue to walk. Are you ready? Should we cue the music?”
My skin tingled, and I felt dizzy. Disoriented. “The groom is ready?”
Porter was here?
Porter was here!
His eyes narrowed on my hands. “Where is your bouquet?”
Deranged laughter barked out of me. “I don’t know.”
He stepped into the room, picked up the pink and white trailing bouquet and thrust it into my hands. “Can I give them the cue?”
Emily cut in, “Yes. We’re ready.”
“You have exactly three minutes to make it to the back of the church. Don’t be late.” He disappeared from sight.
I clutched Emily’s arm. “Am I hallucinating or did Roo say Porter is here?”
She giggled. “He did.”
I stammered, “He showed up?”
She gave a happy shrug. “I knew he would.”
“We haven’t had the talk yet.”
“Take a deep breath.”
She started to walk out but turned to look back at me. “Are you coming?”
“Give me a second.”
Chapter 52
Porter was here!
I walked around the room in a circle. Did that mean he wanted to marry me? Is that why he showed up?
A tightness banded across my chest when another dark thought passed through my mind. What if he planned to literally leave me at the altar?
If that was his plan, I would kill him.
Would he actually do that?
Since I didn’t know what else to do, I followed Emily to the back of the church where Dad waited for me.
He reached out and put both hands on my shoulders. “Beth, I’ve never seen you look more beautiful.”
“Dad.” I watched as my bridesmaids disappeared one-by-one through the double doors into the cathedral. I could hear the faint strains of the string quartet play. “I’m freaking out.”
Understatement of the year.
He chuckled and patted my hand. “You know, I’ve never been so proud of you.”
Emily looked over her shoulder at me, a cute smile teasing her face. She winked, and then she moved out of sight.
“Our turn.” Dad tucked my arm in his and tugged me to the doorway of the huge cathedral.
The thunder of feet echoed through the massive church as eight hundred guests stood to honor my walk up the aisle. My eyes flew to the front of the church.
There he was. Standing straight and tall, looking like a million bucks in his tux. The man I loved.
Holy fuck. He’d actually shown up.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his handsome face. Why was he here? What was he thinking? Did he actually want to marry me?
My trip to the front felt like an underwater dream. Hundreds of face peered at me, as we moved up the aisle. And then Dad helped me up the steps toward Port
er. Behind me, Emily adjusted my dress. I couldn’t bring myself to face those grey eyes. Instead, I stared blindly ahead and concentrated on bringing air into my rib cage, but despite my efforts, I wasn’t sure any oxygen reached my brain.
A small children’s choir stepped forward, and their high sweet voices began to sing. With courage I didn’t feel, I peeked up at Porter. He stared down at me, but what he was thinking was anyone’s guess.
“You showed up,” I whispered.
“So did you,” he breathed back.
Why was he here? I needed to know.
“Did you lose the memo?”
“What memo was that?”
“The one that said, if we failed to plan a breakup, you were the one who needed to leave me at the altar.”
“It went against my policy of always having your back.”
What did that mean?
“So does that mean you’re not going to leave me at the altar?”
He regarded me with a mild expression and shrugged. “Nope.”
I nodded and stared, unseeing, as the choir finished its song. I didn't know how to respond. Was this some a joke to him? Did he not grasp the fact that we were standing at the altar about to be married?
The minister announced a congregational hymn. The organ started, and eight hundred people stood behind us. Questions spun my mind in a hundred different directions. We were here. About to get married, but that still didn’t mean he wanted to marry me. And that fact was killing me. We listened to people sing behind us. I worked to gather my scattered thoughts.
I pinched my lips together, “Do you think we should talk about this?”
“I wanted to earlier, but you took off.”
“I was pissed.”
“Where did you go?”
“You want to have the talk right now?”
“Do you have a better time?”
The minister cleared his throat and chastised us with a pointed look.
My wedding, I can talk if I want to!
But we fell silent and watched as a soloist made her way to the front.
She started singing Ava Marie. I started to get pissed.
“We’re about to get married,” I reminded him.
“You’re free to walk.”