by Kennedy Fox
Mickey’s booming voice calls Victoria every curse word under the sun. “You thought you could fucking cheat on me? After everything we’ve been through?”
“Let me go,” she demands with a shriek.
“You stupid whore. You’re going to pay for this.” She slips again, but he continues to jerk her around like a caveman who’s come to claim his woman. Victoria gains her footing and reaches for Mickey’s gun. Somehow, she gets a hold of it, and when he tries to take it back, it’s too late. Shots ring out and Mickey tumbles to the ground. As if she’s making sure he’s dead, she puts another bullet in his temple. My heart nearly stops at what I just witnessed, but there’s no time to react because Eric exits the car with his gun drawn and moves toward her.
I’m still as I watch him move closer, pointing the barrel at her. “This is for Amara,” he roars. She doesn’t notice him until he speaks, but she’s not fast enough to recognize what’s happening. A shot pierces her arm that’s holding the weapon. Metal crashes to the ground as Eric takes another shot, then another. She falls and doesn’t move. I see blood pooling next to Mickey’s body and am frozen in shock.
Eric looks over her for a few seconds, puts her fingerprints on the gun before dropping it next to her, then hurries back to the car. Not wasting any time, we zoom down the road and end up outside the pub.
“Wanna get a drink?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Are you serious?” I don’t even know what the fuck just happened, and my brain is trying to catch up. I’ve seen some crazy shit, but that takes the cake.
Eric gets out, then heads inside. Not knowing what else to do, I follow him. Once I’m next to him, I flash him a glare as my body buzzing from adrenaline. He’s not fazed by my shell-shock expression and orders a shot of tequila.
“What the fuck just happened?” I whisper when he downs it and orders another.
He peels off his gloves and tucks them inside his jacket pockets. “It’s over,” he says in the calmest voice ever. “It’s finally over, Ty.”
After twenty minutes, my phone buzzes with frantic text messages from Everleigh.
Everleigh: Where are you?
Everleigh: I need you to come home. I’m so fucking scared. There was a shooting on the street outside of the house. It’s all blocked off, and I had to give a statement to the police of what I witnessed.
Tyler: I’m at the pub. I’m heading home now.
“We’ve gotta go,” I tell Eric, and he nods after he signs the credit card receipt. Since the road is closed, we decide to walk home, and my heart is hammering in my chest the entire way.
“Want to explain some things to me?” I finally turn to him as I see the ambulance lights in the distance.
“The gun was one of Victoria’s and had her fingerprints all over it. Chris, her bodyguard gave it to me. From what I can tell, what happened out there was nothing more than a lovers’ spat.”
“You called Mickey Landry?” I’m putting the pieces together.
“I just called a few people who could get the word back to him. He’s a jealous man, so I knew he’d lose his shit.” Eric shrugs. “She got what she deserved.”
When we walk up the sidewalk, Everleigh runs over and wraps her arms around me. She’s shaking like a leaf, she's so frightened.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She nods. “There was a fight, and this couple ended up shooting each other. I thought this was a good neighborhood,” she says, and tears spill down her cheek.
I let out a cool breath, realizing she never mentioned another person. She never saw Eric. “Wow.”
“I already gave my statement,” she tells me. “No one else heard anything. It was crazy and is no doubt gonna be the talk of the town tomorrow.” She buries her head in my chest.
“You should go inside and have a glass of wine.”
Everleigh nods and does what I say. I look at the street and see three covered bodies. What a traumatic fucking experience for my sweet little sister to have to witness. Before we go inside, I turn to Eric. “Why did we go to the pub?”
“For an airtight alibi. I did some research on the sheriff and learned he was lazy as hell. There won’t be a proper investigation, forensics, or any of the shit we do in the city. Lovers’ quarrel that ended poorly. The ultimate Romeo and Juliet story.” He smiles, and we go inside.
I sit on the couch, my body almost feeling numb because I can’t believe this is really over, and Victoria is dead. For the first time in five years, I feel free.
Chapter Eighteen
GEMMA
My life as I know it is changing, and all my freedoms are gone. Every day, a black cloud seems to hang over me, and I can’t get away from it. At work, Tyler and I have kept our distance, but sometimes, I find myself staring at him, longing to be close again.
The last time I spoke with him, he quickly explained that Victoria died, and Everleigh witnessed it. She had told me what happened, something about a lovers’ spat and a shooting outside her house, but I hadn’t pieced the two together. Victoria did terrible things to Tyler and Eric that changed the entire outcomes of their lives. I was just shocked that her boyfriend came here to take care of the problem. I’m so relieved for Tyler, knowing he now has the freedom he’s been seeking since he met that woman. It might not have been the kind of justice he was after, but justice was definitely served for what that woman has done to people.
After having lunch alone, I get a group text from Katie and Everleigh, and that’s when the dread really settles in.
Everleigh: I know the circumstances aren’t really ideal, but since you’re getting married in two days, I think we should have some fun. Let us throw you a bachelorette party tomorrow night. We can drive over to Nashville and do it up real big! Cowboy strippers and lots of alcohol!
Katie: I would totally save a horse and ride a cowboy. Count me in!
Everleigh: Gemma?
I swallow down the lump in my throat, not in the mood to celebrate my defeat. It’s not a happy moment, and I feel as though I’m planning my funeral. I find some courage and text them back.
Gemma: I’d rather not go all out, if possible. Can we have drinks here instead?
Katie: I’m fine with whatever you wanna do! It’s your choice.
The knife drives in deeper, and I don’t know what to say. They’re just trying to be nice when I’d rather just hide away from it all. We’re all trying to make the best of a shitty situation.
Everleigh: Gemma…you really don’t have to go through with this. We’re here to support you.
I’ve had to reiterate my decision to them both so much over the past week like a broken record. They’re aware of how I feel about Robert and the ultimatum he gave me. And though I’ve tried to convince them this is the right thing to do to save my dad’s home, they’re not convinced no matter how many times I say it.
Gemma: I know. Appreciate and love you both so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
I think about Tyler. I think about everything we’ve shared. I think about that night that I went over to his house and explained everything. What I’m being forced to do makes me feel sick. If I could blink and take away every moment that Robert and I spent together, I would. They say people learn something from every relationship, but the only thing I learned is I trusted him too much.
After work, I leave and go to his house where I’ve been forced to stay since he moved my shit there. Robert shows up late as I’m warming up a frozen entree. While I’d rather pretend he’s not home, he forces my attention to him.
“You look like utter shit,” he hisses as soon as he sees me. He doesn’t sit but rather crosses his arms. “When you quit your job, I expect you to look put together and at least try. I won’t have you staying home, lounging in filth like this.”
I have no energy to argue with him. “What do you want?”
The quicker he says what he needs to say, the sooner he’ll leave me alone, and right now, I want my distance from him more t
han anything.
“There’s one more thing we need to add to our agreement,” he says with a pushy edge to his tone as if I’m one of his clients and still need to sign on the dotted line. Though he may have gotten the upper end of the deal—considering he wants me to have his children, quit my job, and play the role of the perfect housewife and mother for the rest of my life—I plan to get the last laugh. Happy wife, happy life, right? I can guarantee I’ll be miserable, and so will he.
“What is it?” When the microwave dings, I grab my shitty enchiladas and a fork, then plop on the couch. He looks so damn offended that I’m not eating at the kitchen table and will probably explode at any second now. Crossing his arms, he moves where he’s in my view and blocks the TV.
“The night of our wedding, I want us to have sex. I think it’s important we consummate our marriage properly.”
This has me nearly choking on my food, and I glare at him. Has he lost his damn mind?
I’ve never been so damn thankful to be on birth control. There’s no way in hell I’m going off it, either. But he’s so ate up in his own damn self that he doesn’t even realize I’m still on the pill. Hell, I might take double doses to ensure I don’t get pregnant. While I do want kids someday, I don’t want his.
“That wasn’t a part of the original agreement. You can’t just change things two days beforehand because you didn’t think about it.”
“Gemma. I want to have children as soon as possible to please my family and continue my legacy. That’s always been a part of our plan. And the sooner we try, the quicker it’ll happen. You know it’s tradition for a husband and wife to sleep together on their wedding night.”
“Will the deed be signed on Monday then?” I ask.
“I will sign when we return from our honeymoon,” he states matter-of-factly. “It should be obvious how much trust I have for you, and I need to make sure you’ll keep your end of the deal before I give you anything. You’re too conniving.”
I bite my tongue at his audacity. “This is purely transactional, Robert. All of it. The wedding. Having children. All you’re doing is checking boxes on your life list, and I’m disgusted that I’m being forced to be a part of it. So you give me what I want, and I’ll bow down and do what you say.”
He chuckles. “Force you? You agreed to it, Gemma. Don’t you fucking forget that. Every night on our honeymoon, we will be having sex. I want you pregnant as soon as possible.”
“I’m compromising a lot for you. I have to know you’re gonna follow through and give me what I want because I don’t trust you. I can’t unhave sex with you if you decide not to fulfill your end of the bargain. If you can’t agree, I’ll walk away right now and deal with the consequences. It’ll be much worse to call everyone and let them know the wedding is off forty-eight hours beforehand,” I threaten, and he seems to finally understand how serious I am.
“You’re not gonna play me for a goddamn fool, Gemma. You’re nothing but a selfish bitch, something that you’ve proven to me time and again over the past year. You’re only worried about yourself. I honestly don’t understand why my parents love you so goddamn much.”
I scoff. “You’re a hypocrite. If anyone has been selfish, it’s you. You pushed me away. You made me feel like I was second class next to your work and your clients. The only time you ever fucking wanted me around was to show off. Maybe if you weren’t a damn sociopath and had an ounce of empathy in your body, you’d be able to see why we didn’t work out. Just so you know, it wasn’t because of me. I’m convinced you’re incapable of loving anyone or anything other than money,” I throw back at him.
My words don’t faze him, but it seems he’s considering what I’ve said. Canceling the wedding this soon would be too devastating for him to handle and would take a lot of cleanup. He huffs, and for once, I think I have him by the balls. “Fine. I’ll sign the deed on Monday, but only if you agree to my additional terms.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Okay. If that’s what it’ll take.”
“Saturday after the wedding, we’ll make love and have a proper night as husband and wife. Monday morning, I’ll sign over the deed. Friday, we leave for our honeymoon, and you know what is to take place there.”
That gives me another idea. “One more thing. If you screw me over and don’t sign, I won’t be going on the honeymoon. The whole town will hear about it because you know how fast gossip spreads here.”
He glares as if he’s annoyed by my audacity to assume he’d find a loophole out of giving me what I want after I give him what he wants. But I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve heard a lot of his negotiations, and the key is to think of every opportunity that can screw you over.
“Then I expect you to quit your job immediately. If you agree to all that, it’s a deal.” He holds out his hand. I contemplate not taking it, but I know I have no choice. I reach out and shake it, and he grins. I want to throw up in my mouth as he walks away with a bounce to his step. Instead of eating my gross food, all I can do is cry. All of this is almost too emotionally taxing for me to handle.
I put on my wedding dress and hate the way it looks on me. I would’ve never chosen this for myself, but I’m sure he’ll love it. Before I go out and exchange I do’s with the man I hate, I drink myself stupid. There’s no way I can do it sober. Everleigh and Katie try to convince me to leave, but I continue to take shots of Fireball and act as happy as I can around Robert’s family. I have no plans to be a runaway bride today because too much is at stake. Anyone who doesn’t know me probably thinks I’m ecstatic. The persona he’s created makes him seem like the whole package. People think I’m the luckiest girl on earth for finding such a catch, and I want to scream that this is hell. Money doesn’t buy happiness or orgasms.
When it comes time to walk down the aisle, I reek of cinnamon and booze. Dad gives me a once-over, and I see a flash of concern on his face when I nearly trip over my heels, but he doesn’t say anything. He didn’t want me to go through with this, but I put my foot down. Losing the house and cottage wasn’t an option, and I explained that several times. As soon as the wedding song plays, I wish I would’ve brought the Fireball with me because I could use another shot. I wear a fake smile and continue forward, one foot at a time, knowing what I have to lose and gain.
The ceremony passes by in a flash, which I’m thankful for. I don’t remember anything that happens during. I don’t recall his mouth pressing against mine or the photographer snapping a hundred photos. Afterward, I go straight to the bar and order more shots. Though Everleigh and Katie are concerned for me, they encourage and join in. Robert’s friends and family stare, but I don’t give two shits what they think. Instead, I’m determined to be the life of the party, even if it’s in my head, and I’m happy to give his boring, stuck-up rich friends something to talk about. Robert scolds me like a child when we dance, but I don’t care.
You only get married once, right? The thought has me laughing because all of this is a damn disaster.
If he wants to have sex with me, I’ll be so drunk I won’t remember his hands on me. When the world tilts, and I feel like I need to throw up, I realize I’ve accomplished my goal. A mischievous grin spreads across my face as he’s forced to keep me from falling on my ass. The cusses at me for ruining our wedding night, but for me, it’s mission accomplished. Tonight, I win—not Robert—regardless of what he thinks.
Monday morning comes quickly, and I’m determined to make Robert keep his word despite not being able to consummate our marriage. He suggested we could Sunday night, but I told him I still felt hungover and nauseous. That was enough to make him walk away.
I get up and dress for work, but he’s already gone by the time I roll over. He told me he’d meet me at the notary office, so I’m going to make sure I’m not late. If he tried to get out of signing the paperwork today, there’d be no honeymoon. Rumors would spread like wildfire, and he’d have to create more lies to cover that lie. Considering he invited nearly five hundred people to th
e ceremony and bragged about where we were going, everyone would be suspicious if it was suddenly canceled. I acted surprised and excited when he announced it on stage, and they all stupidly bought it. He continued on about the first-class tickets to Hawaii and the private villa he rented, and I was the envy of all the single women. Knowing how many people witnessed what took place still gives me hives, but he’s always wanted to be the center of attention. He finally got what he wanted and me being sloppy drunk is what he deserved.
Just as he promised, he meets me at eight with the drafted deed agreement his lawyer finalized. I told Dad I had some errands to run this morning and would be late to work.
When we enter, the woman and all her jingly bracelets and big blond hair greets us. She pulls out her official stamps and looks through the paperwork, then asks for our driver’s licenses.
“I haven’t changed my information yet,” I explain.
Robert glares at me. “Why haven’t you?”
“Sweetheart…” My tone is venomous. “It’s only Monday. We’ve been married for two days. Don’t worry, I plan on taking care of it before we leave for the honeymoon.”
“All documents have to be signed in your full legal name and need to match what’s on your license,” the clerk informs me.
“That’s fine,” I confirm.
“Maybe we should wait until you get an updated social security card and can go down to the DMV and change your license.”
I narrow my eyes. “That won’t be necessary.” Leaning over, I whisper, “A deal is a deal. Don’t make me cause a scene.”
He acts as if I just slapped him across the face, even if my voice was only loud enough for him to hear. The smile on the woman’s face doesn’t falter, but she begins to tap her nail. Though Robert hesitates, he eventually does exactly what I need. Even if he’s an asshole most of the time, I can respect that he keeps his word, sometimes.