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Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

Page 17

by Stacey Marie Brown


  “What?” I searched his eyes for the truth.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “Or ever,” I snapped back.

  “No. I was going to tell you… it just…” He scoured at his head, he seemed to do when he was irritated or flustered. “You and I… this wasn’t supposed to happen.” I flinched at his words. “That’s not what I meant. You know we didn’t plan this. I tried to fight it. But it did—”

  “Was it to hurt me? Get even?” Becca came up behind us, her lips quivering, light blue eyes watering.

  “What I do has nothing to do with you. Sign the fucking papers, Becca.”

  “No!” She tried to move between us. “You are my husband, which meant something to you at one time. It still means something to me.”

  “Was that before or after you betrayed me?” His anger thumped against his skin, fury raging underneath like a monster.

  “He tricked me too. I didn’t know it would end like that…” A sob hiccupped up her throat, her hand flattening at her swan throat.

  “You stood there and backed him… threw me under the bus, forgoing any notion of love you claimed for me. Sign the papers and let me move on with my life.”

  Watching them, even fighting, I could see the passion, even in hate. The connection between them slammed into my chest like a rocket, blasting grief and pain through my bones.

  I couldn’t be here anymore. It was too painful. Whatever he needed to work out with her had nothing to do with me. I was no longer part of this warped equation. Stumbling back, I veered for the first couple of steps.

  “Kinsley, wait…” He lurched for me, his hands grabbing the railing. “Listen to me… please.” His eyes pleaded with mine, cutting a gash through my heart, but my mind obeyed, locked on his face. The one I traced this morning, the lips I had kissed, the body I had tasted and touched. “Just hear me out.”

  “And that’s all I’ve asked of you,” Becca hissed out painfully, a tear running down her faultless made-up face.

  “This is totally different.”

  “Is it?” she cried out, grabbing his arm. “Smith… please… don’t give up on me… on us. I love you. I want to be your wife.”

  It was an instant, a flash of doubt, of agony flinching his features—and I knew. As if I were being dropped into an abyss, the sensation you knew you were going under but had no will to stop it. My emotions vacuumed back, tucking into the depth of my soul, my shoulders rolling back.

  Smith’s eyes flickered to me, noticing the shift in my demeanor.

  “Kins?”

  “Goodbye, Smith,” I said evenly, my attention flicking to Becca for a moment, then back to him. “I hope you two can work it out. You seem perfect for each other.”

  Lying, cheating, conniving assholes. Stiffly, I turned my back on them, keeping my head up.

  “Kinsley!” My name trailed after me, but he didn’t come after me again.

  Not looking back, I ascended the stairs, entering my room, closing it calmly…

  And fell apart.

  “Thank you again.” I scrubbed behind Goat’s ears, digging my face into his fur, needing the comfort of my little dude more than anything.

  “Anytime.” Angie’s voice brought me back up to me feet as she gave Goat’s head a kiss. “Seriously, he was a dream to watch. I would kidnap him…” Her eyebrow popped up. “If I didn’t think it would completely push you over the cliff.”

  My eyes darted to the side. I had tried to cover up my puffy eyes, the lack of sleep not helping, but Angie seemed to see through the thin veneer.

  “You all right?” Her voice was filled with understanding and compassion.

  “Yep.” I tried to smile.

  “Don’t lie to me, girl. If anyone knows what a Smith-caused heartbreak looks like, it’s me.”

  “It’s not heartbreak.” I snapped harsher than I meant, forcing me to take a deep breath. “No hearts were involved.”

  Angie let out a laugh. “Who do you think you’re bullshitting?” She folded her arm. “I saw you two together… and my dreams are never wrong.”

  “What did you dream?”

  “First, tell me what happened? Do I need to knock some sense into his head? The boy has a wall like a fortress, so scared to let anything real in.”

  “It wasn’t a wall…” I swallowed, trying to keep the emotion back. “It was a wife.”

  When I had gotten back to the hotel, I had cried, blocked his number, packed my stuff, and checked out, staying in my van so I didn’t have to be anywhere near him. The idea of him calling, coming to my door, or running into him and Becca…

  Hell no.

  At the RV park, I met some Willie Nelson lookalike and got stoned with his dog. I smoked with him until I passed out, not letting myself think or feel. Waking up, I headed straight over to get Goat, wanting just to be home now. Get far away from Smith.

  I was the idiot anyway. I knew better. What did I expect from a guy nicknamed Smug Bastard? Did I think I’d be different?

  I knew he was off limits, and it would end badly, but I still jumped in. So really, I was to blame. Just another guy who pretended to care and then shredded my heart. Jason, Ethan, Smith. I was the common denominator. The stupid fool.

  Now I licked my lips and stared at Angie. “Becca.”

  Angie’s mouth parted, her lids blinking. “Wife?”

  “Stunning, tall, flawless. Seeing them together… they made sense.”

  “No.” Angie’s head waggled, her forehead lining. “I don’t understand. I didn’t see her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In my dream, I saw Smith surrounded by darkness and pain. I kept calling to him, reaching for him, thinking he needed me, was coming back to me. He smiled, but he wouldn’t move, kept looking behind him. Finally, I saw a figure. It created such happiness in him, joy, and serenity so pure it almost hurt. It pushed away all the darkness… It wasn’t until I meet you in person, felt your auras together, I understood.”

  “Understood what?”

  “It was you.” Her chest fluttered like it hurt. “In my vision.”

  “Me?”

  “You were the one who made him happy. But I also knew if he ignored it, turned away from it, the darkness would crush him.”

  “I think this is one time your dream was wrong.”

  “I’m never wrong,” she huffed, flipping her curly hair back. “But this other woman wasn’t in my vision… unless she was part of his darkness.”

  “I don’t think so. She seems to love him very much.” I didn’t want to hear any more, my logical brain trying to regain order again. Voodoo, fantasies, hopes, magic, visions, spirits—I was done with it, ready to go back to things that made sense.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” I picked up Goat’s bag, ready to get on the road and away from this city.

  “I know you are hurting. Believe me, I get it. You’d think after eight-plus years, I’d be over Smith, but that man leaves a mark.”

  I snorted dryly, thinking of the scrapes still covering my back and the bruises all over my body from his mouth and grip. I demanded every delicious one and gave right back.

  “Don’t crawl back into your box because you’re hurt. If anything, use this against him. I can see it. You are powerful, passionate, and bold. Like a storm. Don’t ever apologize for your strength, and don’t let him hinder it. You are not meant to live in the shadows.”

  A gasp wedged in my throat at her words.

  Her eyes stared at me with a knowing look, as if she could see everything inside my heart and head, picking at my fears and truths.

  “Your story is not over. He’ll be back, but it will be you who gets to decide the ending this time.” Her mouth pressed into a smile, before she leaned over to give Goat a pet. “I will miss you, sweet boy. Don’t be a stranger.” Goat licked her hand.

  Shocking even myself, I leaned over and hugged Angie. “Thank you again.”

  “
Don’t be a stranger yourself.” She hugged me back.

  Nodding, I got Goat into the car and walked around to the driver’s side, giving her a last wave, feeling a sadness I didn’t expect, like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. If it was the magic of this city or a bond over Smith, Angie felt like a permanent thread that somehow got woven into my life.

  Pulling out, I looked over at Goat, who sniffed the seat and peered around as if he was searching for Smith, feeling the loss of the man who had only been part of our journey for a short time. His presence hung heavy in the car, leaving an empty void.

  “Just you and me, little man.” I rubbed his head. Goat whimpered and placed his head on my leg, his sad eyes looking up at me.

  “Yeah…” I sighed. I felt it too.

  The sun was high and bright in the sky as I pulled onto the highway heading north, but it felt like a heavy rain cloud permeated the van.

  Smith had left a wound, but Angie was right, I couldn’t let myself slink back.

  I wouldn’t.

  The rain cloud would become a blustering storm.

  Chapter 18

  Kinsley

  “Oh my god, you finally made it.” My sister ran out of the house, tackling me the moment I got out of the car. “You’re here! You’re here!” She squeezed me tight, and I hugged her back with the same force. “Missed you so much, Kins. I am so happy you’re here.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” I had. I loved my sister to pieces, no matter how much she could drive me nuts. She was a good person and absolutely adored me.

  She stepped back, her gaze moving over me. “Wow… you look gorgeous. Something’s different about you. I swear, you’ve changed since the last time I saw you.”

  “You saw me at my graduation a month ago.”

  “Still… something’s different.” Her attention jumped from me as if she realized something, her focus going to the passenger seat, where Goat waited patiently for me. “Wait… Where’s Smith?”

  Right.

  “Kinsley!” My mom’s cry took my attention from my sister, my parents jogging out of the house I grew up in, their arms open. Kay Maxwell was as cute as you could get. Still young appearing for her fifty-five years, she was short with a heart-shaped face, the same honey-colored hair as my siblings, though hers had help from the salon now. Her petite figure was now full of curves, but she went speed walking with her girlfriends three days a week and was always moving. The twins got their endless energy from her. I was much more like my dad. Liam Maxwell was tall, lean, silvering dark hair, and laid-back. His basketball days far behind him, he enjoyed fishing and watching sports now.

  “Mom.” I hugged her as my dad impatiently waited for his turn. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Sweetheart, we are so glad you are here and made it safely.” He squeezed me tight.

  “Me too.”

  “Oh, there is my favorite grandpuppy.” Mom scuttled to get Goat from the front seat, his butt wiggling at seeing her. He loved my mom because she was always slipping him treats, cooking extra chicken or hamburger so he could have some.

  My dad and brother were still on Goat’s unsure list.

  But that little shit instantly loved Smith. Stupid dog.

  My nails cut into my palm. I had promised myself I wouldn’t think about him, though he slipped into my head more times than I could count.

  He was there when I danced on a bar in Atlanta, kissed a guy in DC, went on a pub crawl in Philly, and made out with the tour leader in a bathroom stall. He was especially there when I got a tattoo on my wrist in New York. He was there all the time, his voice skating up my neck, pushing me to do something, or growling with fury.

  Every guy I kissed was my “screw you” to him, but the next morning I’d wake up, knowing I was only hurting myself. He didn’t know nor would he probably care.

  I blocked his number and him from social media, but still I hoped somehow he’d contact me.

  He didn’t.

  I pushed on, making the rest of my trip as adventurous as the first part. I hated the fact that if he had never come, my entire journey would have been safe and uneventful, staying in the lines.

  “Kinsley?” Kasey marched over to me, her head tipping. “I thought Smith was with you?”

  I hadn’t told anyone in my family he was no longer a passenger in my van, not wanting to get into the whys. My mother and sister were like sharks, smelling blood in the water and wouldn’t relent until they got the truth.

  “He’s not.” I shrugged.

  “What happened?” Concern wrinkled Mom’s forehead as she set Goat down and he ran into the white trilevel house, probably heading to where he knew Mom hid his treats. “Why isn’t he with you? Where is he?”

  “Uh.” A root canal sounded far better than having this conversation. “I don’t know. We split in New Orleans.” The fissure in my chest I patched over with tape cracked, my hand absently rubbing at the pain.

  “What?” my sister and Mom bellowed.

  “New Orleans?” Kasey sputtered. “That was four days ago. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m not his keeper, Kasey,” I snapped, irritation grinding up my spine. “He is a grown man and can do what he wants.”

  “Yeah, but why? He’s supposed to be here. He has to be.”

  “Why? Because you have it in your head he’s yours? He doesn’t have to be anywhere. And definitely not because you want him to be.”

  Her lids narrowed, rage flashing in her eyes. “I was thinking of Kyle. He really wanted him here.”

  A dry snort pushed through my lips. “Right.”

  “Okay, enough, you two.” Mom held up her arms. “Two minutes and you two are already at each other’s throats. This week is about your brother and Amie. This is already a stressful time; don’t make it more so.”

  My head went down, my mother having the power to make me feel bad in an instant. “Sorry.” I rubbed my head. “I’m just tired and need a shower.”

  “Then go take a nap and freshen up. Kyle and Amie will be over in an hour for dinner. And we need to start on the out-of-town guests’ gift baskets. You have a fitting first thing tomorrow and are helping Kasey with the flower order after. This is a full week, and I need all hands on deck.” She motioned for me to go inside.

  “I’ll get your stuff.” Dad squeezed my shoulder, walking around to the back to grab my bags.

  Kasey still glared over at me, hurt turning up her pert nose.

  “Kasey…” I sucked in. Most of my anger wasn’t meant for her. It was at him and most of all, myself. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m confused.” She looked more disappointed. “I thought the whole point of you picking him up was so he’d be here for Kyle’s wedding.” She shook her head, befuddled. “What happened?”

  “His past happened.”

  The week was exhausting and hellish, making me realize I never wanted to have a big wedding. My sister put me to work in her flower shop working between all the bridesmaid’s duties. Being so busy kept my mind mostly off him, though the bastard still found a way to slip through far more than I wanted him to, especially with his name constantly being tossed out. No one realized every time it struck the air, it felt like a dagger in my chest.

  Kyle muttered something about talking to him, but as much as I wanted to ask, I forced myself to leave the room, taking Goat on a walk. I couldn’t do that to myself. It was over. It never should have started.

  I wanted to roll into a ball and sob until the pain in my chest released, but I didn’t, like I was punishing myself, like I deserved the pain for my wrongdoings.

  Karma.

  Friday at the rehearsal dinner I faked a smile and talked with family and friends. I played the role of the ideal sister and bridesmaid, making sure Amie and Kyle were happy, cramming every moment with activity to keep my eyes off the door of the banquet room of the fancy restaurant.

  A part of me dreaded the idea of him walking in, but a bigger part of me longed for it.

&nb
sp; Hoped.

  But he didn’t.

  Kasey was convinced he’d come, and I knew in her head she had this grand fantasy of him strolling in, their eyes meeting, and boom—love and happiness. It was pointless to try and convince her he wouldn’t be showing up. She was determined to live in her make-believe world where she and Smith were meant to be.

  Knowing Smith better now, I had no doubt they would never work. My sister was the type who had a spot for everything in her house, made labels for her shoes and lunches, organized her stationery. Her house was spotless and magazine ready. She wanted a handsome, rich man on her arm who wouldn’t leave his boxers on the floor and would sweep her away on vacations, letting Mom watch their 2.5 kids and a dog that didn’t shed.

  Nothing wrong with that… It just wasn’t Smith. Not even close.

  He was raw, rough, fierce, and out of the box. He was the kind to leave his muddy boots on the floor, filthy clothes next to the hamper, but fuck you so completely against the wall the moment he stepped in the door that you’d forget the world existed.

  A shiver ran up my spine, the image so unbearably real in my head it made me falter.

  “You okay?” Mom came up behind me, rubbing my back as I packed up the picture collages of Amie and Kyle and collected the flower arrangements that Kasey wanted to reuse on the outside tables tomorrow.

  “Fine.” I placed the beautiful flowers in a container. Kasey was an amazing florist, each arrangement so pretty they almost looked fake.

  “You sure?” Mom handed me another arrangement, her voice full of concern.

  “Yeah, I’m great.”

  “You have said that all week and I still don’t buy it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Kins, I’m your mother, and as much as you don’t think I do, I see you. I know when you are sad, irritated, happy, and when you are acting like everything is all right.”

  “Not acting.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, not daring to look at her. “I’m fine.”

 

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