All of Nothing

by Vania Rheault

  The dress fit almost as if it had been made for her, and if she were the type to believe in fairy tales, she’d feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball.

  But her life hadn’t been a fairytale, not since she was fifteen, and she knew fairy godmothers didn’t exist.

  And Jaxon Brooks was no Prince Charming.

  “My brother knows two ways to get what he wants: he’ll either blackmail or bribe someone to get it. He’s a cold fish, that one, and you might think that’s a shitty thing to say about your own flesh and blood, but I can see him for what he is. He didn’t always used to be like that, mind you, but it’s hard to feel sorry for someone who acts like he does. He has his reasons, though. We all do.”

  Erik was right. Raven would never feel sorry for someone like Jax. Looks, money to spare. What could possibly have gone wrong in his life that couldn’t be easily fixed with the resources someone like Jax had?

  “It’s why Gwen could leave him, you see.”

  Raven shivered as Erik’s fingers trailed down her back, deftly doing the small pearl buttons as if he’d had a million times before. The dress hung heavily from her body, pounds of lace and satin, and she imagined Gwen, the mysterious Gwen who had been able to get away, would have felt like the dress was an anchor, pulling her down, drowning her.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Gwen realized all the money in the world wasn’t worth it, if Jax couldn’t love her. So, there goes the bribery. And, well, Jax didn’t have anything on her, either, so he couldn’t make her stay. Is he blackmailing you, love? Or is he bribing you?”

  “He’s doing both.”

  The words slipped out before Raven could keep them inside her head, and she tensed, waiting for the slap she was sure would come. It was one thing for someone to say ill of their own family, but it was a different matter if someone agreed.

  Erik didn’t hit her, only laughed and turned her around. “An honest one.” He tilted his head, and Raven flinched as the blond man scrutinized her. He looked like Jax, only . . . a softer version of the man, somehow. If Raven had lived in a different world, she would have let herself be attracted to him. “It would be interesting, love, if he were to marry you for real. I think he’d have met his match.”

  “He’s not my type.”

  Nodding gravely, he said, “He isn’t anyone’s.” He tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear. “Let’s get that veil on you and get out of here. If the organist has to play that song one more time, we’re all going to go batshit crazy.”

  Jax stood at the front of the church, sweat sliding down his back as his guests stared at him, perplexed.

  Erik and the girl were taking too long.

  She’d all but drooled as he counted the money in front of her, but he could have underestimated Erik’s dislike of his plan, and maybe his brother had sent her away to protect her after all.

  But she’d look scared enough when he threatened to report her to the pastor of the church, though Jax doubted the old man would have taken any action. The pastor didn’t look like he cared much about anything. All this time while waiting for the ceremony to start, he’d been playing Candy Crush on his cell phone, not a care in the world.

  It’d taken all of Jax’s strength not to grab the phone from the podium and fling it through the stained glass window. He could have taken Jesus out, right between the eyes.

  He was already going to hell, and the thought didn’t bother him much.

  Movement at the back of the sanctuary caught his eye, and Erik gave him the thumbs up. They were ready to start.

  Jax blew a relieved breath through his mouth.

  “She’s ready,” he murmured to the pastor.

  “Good, good,” the pastor said, clicking off his phone. He nodded to the organist who began to play the “Wedding March.”

  His mother, sitting in the front row with his father, melted into the pew in happiness.

  His fake bride’s beauty took him aback. Only twenty minutes ago she’d look like a strung-out druggie, but this woman looked radiant.

  Erik had erased any vibe of poverty the girl had given off.

  She glided to the altar, her face full of apprehension, holding a bouquet in one hand, accompanied by his brother, her other hand resting in the crook of his arm. If anyone asked why Erik gave “Gwen” away, he’d have nothing to say, and he hoped Erik made up a good story. As it was, Erik wouldn’t have forced her to walk the aisle alone. That was his brother’s way.

  Through the white veil, Erik kissed her on the cheek, and the woman smiled.

  It faded when she turned to him.

  Jax didn’t know why it pissed him off, but it did.

  He wasn’t a monster, dammit. He’d had a heart. Feelings. Once.

  “We are gathered here today to . . .”

  Jax tuned out the pastor.

  Fortunately, the service Jax and Gwen decided on was a short affair, and only fifteen minutes passed before he and “Gwen” were saying their vows and he was slipping a band onto her finger.

  She did the same for him with the ring he’d given her from his pocket.

  Her small hands shook.

  She was probably glad she wasn’t going through with this for real, and he didn’t blame her. Jax could barely look at himself in the mirror; how could he expect his wife to wake up to him for the rest of her life?

  “You may now kiss your bride,” the pastor said, closing the book that had guided him through the ceremony.

  Jax fought not to lean away. Kiss her?

  “Gwen” looked equally appalled.

  But he had to kiss her. There wasn’t a happily married man in all the world who didn’t want to kiss his new wife in front of his family and friends.

  He lifted the veil and took a moment to look at her—really look at her. Not just to pass her off as some gutter rat who had somehow found her way inside the church.

  Erik had swept her hair away from her face, revealing delicate, arched eyebrows. Her skin was smooth and clear, though her eyes held a kind of sadness and tiredness he carried with him, always. High cheekbones gave her a regal look, and her full lips sparkled with either spit or gloss; he wouldn’t know until he kissed her.

  Suddenly, that was all he wanted to do.

  He pulled her into his arms, her frailty catching him off guard.

  Jax took her lips with his, swallowing the small gasp she made as he did so. It took only a second, and she was kissing him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  He could be thankful she was a fine actress. He wouldn’t have anyone questioning if their love and passion for each other were true. It would only be after the ceremony, after her disappearance, when the lies would start.

  When the applause died, and the tittering started, Jax lifted his head. His breath hooked in his lungs, and an erection strained his pants. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected to have, kissing this woman, this girl who would snort the two thousand he’d give her up her nose.

  Disgusted with himself, he tried to keep his face passive as he turned to the congregation.

  “Keep your head down,” he growled.

  He dragged her down the aisle while his guests stood and clapped.

  Staring at the floor, she stumbled as she tried to keep up, and he pulled her closer to him. He didn’t want to slow down. He wanted to avoid the receiving line his mother would want to form, and Jax pulled her into the pastor’s office located off the lobby in front of the church.

  As Jax caught his breath, Erik said from behind him, “I started a rumor that Gwen didn’t feel well, and you were bringing her right to the hotel. If she felt better, she’d come down for the reception.”

  “Thanks.”

  The woman had taken a seat on a small loveseat in the corner of the office, sitting in a cloud of satin and lace, gripping Gwen’s bouquet made of white calla lilies and baby’s breath.

  “We need a few moments with the pastor, then I will take you wherever you need to go.”

 
Erik dropped down onto the loveseat next to her and laid his arm along the top of the cushions. His brother, dressed in his best man tux, and “Gwen,” in her dress, looked like the couple who had just gotten married.

  Jax turned away.

  He’d never find happiness like that.

  In fact, Erik seemed so at ease with this woman, Jax wouldn’t be surprised if his brother remained in contact with her.

  “That was a beautiful ceremony, just beautiful,” the pastor said, narrowly missing the doorframe as he punched buttons on his phone. “We just need the marriage license signed, and then you are free to celebrate.”

  The pastor slipped a black folder from beneath his arm and spread out two pieces of paper.

  The woman handed Erik her bouquet and stood next to Jax by the pastor’s desk.

  He whispered in her ear, “Don’t sign your real—”

  “Jax! Darling, the ceremony was wonderful! Just wonderful! Erik told me Gwen wasn’t feeling well, so I won’t take any of your time, but I just wanted to say congratulations and hopefully we’ll see you at the hotel later.”

  Jax rested his hand on the small of the woman’s back as she signed the paper, and he addressed his mother, who was peering around the pastor’s office door. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll go down to the reception, of course, after I see Gwen to our room at the hotel.”

  “A terrible thing, to be sick on your wedding day!” his mother chirped. “But perhaps now that the ceremony is over the nerves will calm down a bit.” She looked expectantly at the woman beside him, and his bride gave his mother a brief smile of acknowledgement.

  To Jax’s relief, his mother accepted the small token, and beaming happily, shut the door, muting the murmuring of the wedding guests.

  Jax scrawled his name on the line next to hers.

  “I can take her back,” Erik said, rising from the loveseat. He slicked his hands through his hair and pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, placing it between his lips.

  “That isn’t necessary,” Jax snapped, annoyed. His brother didn’t need to spend any more time with this woman, and the fact Erik wanted to angered him beyond all comprehension.

  “Then at least help her out of the dress,” Erik said, his voice smooth and low. “You were the one who got her into it.”

  Jax gritted his teeth.

  “Good luck, love,” Erik said, and kissed the woman on her temple.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, the blood draining from her face. She stepped away from Jax and the tense line of her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly with the space between them.

  It wasn’t a surprise he scared her. He frightened most people he met. If it wasn’t his gruff demeanor, it was his cutthroat business attitude. And if it wasn’t the unrelenting way he ran his business, it was his cold-heartedness that made most people stay away from him.

  “Thank you, Pastor Clark,” Jax said, shaking his hand. “I’ll be getting Gwen to the hotel, so she can rest.”

  “Good luck, you two,” the pastor mumbled, once again staring at his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen.

  Jax handed the woman the bouquet and guided her down the hallway with this hand placed on the nape of her neck.

  Skittish, she shuffled along the hallway, her breath coming out in frantic gasps. “You can leave me here. Now that the wedding is over, I can finish my job.”

  Anything to make him leave. While it made sense to leave her at the church, he wanted to be seen climbing into the limo with her by anyone who was loitering around the church yard. “No. I will help you change, then bring you home.”

  He pushed the door open.

  As she stepped into the back room he said, “Come on. Let’s get this dress off you.”

  Raven didn’t want him anywhere near her. She wished Erik hadn’t gone. Erik’s explanations about Jax hadn’t made her any more comfortable around him. He had an aura of mercilessness about him, like he’d never care about anyone or anything, ever.

  But she wanted the two thousand dollars he’d promised her.

  If he hadn’t changed his mind.

  He pinned her in place with his piercing hazel eyes. The color was evident now, with the way he stood in the sun that still shone through the window.

  The harsh planes of his face were sharp, and his frown made her insides quake. Her stomach churned bile, and she swallowed against the sour taste in her mouth.

  She took a step back.

  He took two forward.

  They danced until her back pressed against the window, and there was nowhere for her to go.

  Jax grasped her shoulders and spun her around.

  Raven fought tears and pressed her lips together to hold in her sobs. What was he going to do to her?

  Erik hadn’t hurt her, but Jax wasn’t his brother. She was at Jax’s mercy, and there was no kindness in his touch.

  She gripped the pane as she felt Jax’s hands near her veil.

  Her head swam from lack of oxygen, yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull in a breath.

  But all he did was pull the combs from her hair and fling the veil onto the floor.

  His fingertips skimmed her skin, under the sloppy updo Erik had helped her with.

  He trailed his fingers down her neck, between her shoulder blades to where the small buttons started, and Raven tried with all her might to hold still, to not bring attention to herself.

  She didn’t want to be in her bra and panties in front of Jax.

  He did each button with such agonized slowness, by the time he’d done four, she could have sworn he was doing it to torture her.

  Raven waited while he unfastened every single button on the dress. By the time he was finished, she wanted a drink so badly, her hands shook against the window, the glass warm from the sun beating against it.

  “Turn around,” Jax ordered.

  “N-no.” She didn’t want to face him. She didn’t want to look at him. Raven wanted him to leave, let her dress.

  Let her go.

  She didn’t even care if he gave her the money now.

  It wouldn’t be worth it.

  “Turn. Around.”

  His voice was deathly low, and afraid of the consequences ignoring him would bring, she slowly turned to face him, the satin of the wedding dress brushing against her ankles.

  Reaching for a bravado she didn’t feel, she spat, “What are you going to do, rape me?”

  Jax grazed his fingers along her collarbone, down lower to her cleavage, his fingers brushing the sweetheart neckline of the dress. “No.”

  She could get through this if she had a drink. Just a few gulps. A guy like this, he’d have a premium whiskey in his flask. None of the cheap stuff she usually drank because she couldn’t afford anything better. “I need a drink.”

  Then you can do what you want to me.

  She didn’t say it aloud, but the words hung in the air. If he was going to do something to her, it would be a hell of a lot easier to get through it buzzed.

  Raven might not have finished high school, but she was smart. Street smart.

  She couldn’t outrun him.

  And resisting would make it that much worse.

  Jax pulled the silver flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to her.

  Tentatively, she took a small sip. The flask was almost full.

  She took pull after pull of the whiskey, relishing the burn in her throat running down to her belly. The alcohol immediately went to her head, and she sagged against the window in relief. It’d been too long. Too long without a drink.

  Too soon she emptied the flask, and her cheeks burned in shame.

  She’d finished at least five fingers of whiskey, chugged them like they were Kool-Aid.

  He took the flask from her without a word, the metal scraping against metal as he screwed the top onto the opening. A rustling of fabric as he slipped it back into his pocket.

  “Do you feel better?”

  The carpet was a burnt orangish brown, a
nd Raven couldn’t lift her eyes from the ugly color.

  “Look at me.”

  She couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer, and they ran down her cheeks, dripped onto the skirt of the dress. Raven couldn’t bring herself to lift her head.

  The alcohol, the giddy fizz in her bloodstream, battled with the self-loathing as it always did whenever she succumbed. The combination dueled in her foggy brain and despite the tears, she laughed, finally locking her gaze with his.

  Jax brought his hand to her cheek, and she flinched, used to being slapped whenever a man decided to pay her face any attention. But he merely wiped the tears from her skin, ran his thumb along her jaw.

  “Let me.”

  Raven laughed. Let him? Let him what? What was he asking permission for? The church was quiet, silence heavy in the room. The pastor had probably gone, all the wedding guests were on their way to the hotel for the reception. There wouldn’t be anyone to help her if she said no.

  Slowly, Jax ran his hand down her neck, cupping her throat.

  He could choke her, simple as that. Choke her, crush her windpipe.

  She’d been in this position before.

  The look in his eyes wasn’t violent, though, and Raven knew violence, knew cruelty.

  No, the look in Jax’s eyes . . . she couldn’t describe it, exactly. But his hazel eyes lacked malice, lacked coldness.

  Through her whiskey-filled mind, she realized it then. It wasn’t a desire to hurt her. It was simply desire.

  She hadn’t seen it on a man’s face, not like this.

  Raven had seen desire in the form of jealousy, envy. That kind of desire mixed with hate, greed, and vehemence.

  Jax just wanted her.

  But he stood there, waiting.

  Raven’s heart hammered.

  He was waiting for her to say no.

  And she knew as sure as she knew the sun was shining outside that if she said no, he wouldn’t touch her.

  She licked her lips. He might not give her the money, either. And oh, she needed that money. Needed it to try again.

  Her blood pulsed under his thumb still pressing into her neck.