Audacious Fiancé: A Hero Club Novel

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Audacious Fiancé: A Hero Club Novel Page 4

by Liz Lovelock


  “We ran into your ex, Kane. You don’t remember?” She sounds unsure.

  Another groan. My hand comes up and rests on my forehead. “My memory is blank in some spots.”

  She breaks out laughing again. I’m sure she has tears sliding down her cheeks.

  “Shut up.”

  “This is hilarious.”

  “Just tell me what happened. I didn’t do anything to embarrass myself, did I?”

  “No. You did, however, slap Kane and shove him in the chest. I thought you were gonna go gung-ho on his ass. I was ready to come back you up. Then you told me who he was. By the way, he’s totally good-looking. You should jump back on that gravy train. I swear, I dreamed about him last night, and you were there. You were getting married.” Her mouth doesn’t seem to stop. “He looked good in a suit,” she purrs like a kitten.

  “Please stop. You’re causing my head to hurt more and my stomach to twist, and not in a good way. Would you believe I slept in my alcohol-covered boots? In my cream-sheeted bed?” I almost yell the last part but stop myself, sure that if I raise my voice, the loudness will make me feel even dizzier.

  “How about I grab some greasy food and come to yours? You’ll have time to freshen up and throw up all you need to before I get there.”

  “Shut up. I’m not going to be sick. I just need a shower and some pain relief. Come to think of it, I haven’t been this hungover in a long time. Now I know why I don’t normally drink like I did last night. Promise me you’ll never let me consume alcohol like that again.” I gingerly move my body and, inch by inch, sit upright and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My stomach heaves. Okay, I was wrong. I may be sick. Oh, I hope not.

  “I promise. So long as when the time comes, you won’t kill me.”

  I stare in the mirror at my puzzled expression. Gah! I look terrible. I look like I’ve stepped out of a horror movie—dark, bloodshot eyes, and a mat of hair that has knot upon knot.

  Then something Adele said registers in my foggy head. “What am I going to kill you for?”

  “Nothing right now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  My body aches. With each movement, my stomach feels like it’s dropping off a building. Leaning over, I unzip my boots and kick them off. I quickly pull off my socks. The air hits my damp, sweaty feet. That feels much better. A sticky residue is pasted over my skin. I swallow, and it’s like I’m swallowing a mouthful of dirt and something foul.

  Finally, I manage to stand. My head spins. I reach for the edge of the bed and close my eyes, hoping it passes soon. That was one too many shots last night. Never again.

  My feet move at a snail’s pace. When I finally make it to my en suite, I lean against the vanity, undo my pants, and strip off while trying not to fall over. Once naked, I feel somewhat better—those clothes held the stench of stale beer and cigarette smoke, not that I smoke.

  Standing on the bright blue bath mat, I turn the shower on. It’s not long before the room starts steaming up. After I get the temperature to what my body is craving, I step in and lean against the tiled wall. I allow the warm water to hit my face. The uneasy sensation that had settled in my stomach disappears. It’s amazing how having a shower or bath helps you feel somewhat human again.

  Adele’s words come back from the depths of the darkness of my mind.

  We ran into Kane last night.

  I hit him. I shoved him.

  I wish I could remember all the details. If he’s going to keep showing up in my life, I may have to move somewhere else. I laugh to myself. Like hell, that would happen. Why should I run away? Yes, he hurt me, but how sympathetic would he have been if I told him the whole truth of what happened after he left.

  He might actually hate me, and I think I’d be okay with that. If that means him not talking to me again, I’m totally good with it.

  There are too many painful memories—ones I’m not ready to deal with, and coming face to face with that past and the reality of what that outcome was is still too hard to face.

  Chapter Ten

  Jolene

  When I step out of the shower, I’m feeling more human than zombie, and looking more alive as well. I rub some of my moisturizer over my dry face, put some deodorant on, and everything is right in the world, for the moment.

  A sharp knock at the door causes me to jump. Securing the towel around my still-wet body, and my damp hair hanging down my back, I race through the apartment, my footsteps light on the floorboards.

  Peeking through the peephole, Adele stands there. I unlock the door and pull it open. “Hey, bitch.” I smile.

  The moment she steps inside, the scent of the food hits my nose. My stomach growls. Well, at least I’m hungry. If she had been here an hour ago, the smell probably would have had me heaving over the toilet.

  “You’re sounding much better.” She smiles as she places the white plastic bag on the counter in my kitchen.

  I follow her through. “Yeah, I’m okay. Showers are magical.”

  “Totally. Now go get dressed and let’s eat.”

  I nod and race off back to my bedroom before shutting the door behind me. I slip on a pair of holey pale blue jeans and a long-sleeved fitted yellow-and-white-patterned top.

  “Let’s eat,” I announce when I come out of my room.

  Adele has already dished herself up some Chinese—the perfect greasy food and exactly what I’m craving. I take the plate Adele had gotten out for me and load it up with some dim sum, a mountain of fried rice, honey chicken, and a heap of other options she has brought.

  I go and sit on the couch where Adele is. We eat in silence, the food filling an empty hole in my stomach. Did I even eat dinner last night? Now that I think about it, everything happened really fast, and before I knew it, I was being dragged out of the house—my first nightclub experience in a long time. I felt like I didn’t belong there.

  “So, what’s ya plans for today? How are you feeling about everything?” Adele asks as she shoves another fork of fried rice in her mouth. Her last question stalls me a moment.

  How do I feel?

  I haven’t given Nathan much thought since yesterday, and that was on purpose. A hard lump takes up location in my throat. I hate this feeling.

  “I . . . I’m not sure. I’ve got to go and see my mother, and I think I’m going to return Nathan’s ring. I don’t want him holding anything over me. I might pack up everything else that’s his and take it with me.” I pause a moment before I voice my thoughts. “The bigger question is, what are we going to do with everything in the apartment? He could easily replace everything he’ll need when he finds a new place to live. If he wants anything from here, then he’s going to have to pay me half because we split payment on everything.”

  I lift my eyes from the half-empty plate and meet Adele’s stare. Her features are soft. “Did you want me to come with you to see Nathan? I’d like to rip off his appendage and watch him squirm in pain.” She laughs, and I follow suit. She always has a way of making the situation a little lighter.

  I put my food on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Actually, I’d like you to come with me . . . that way you can bear witness to everything that happens. He’s the lawyer. I don’t want him coming after me for anything.”

  “Done.”

  “You’re the greatest.”

  “I know this, you don’t need to remind me. I might get a big head that won’t fit through your doorway.”

  My lips pull up on one side. I shake my head. “It’s already too big.”

  She grabs a cushion and tosses it at me, hitting me in the side of the face. She jumps upright. “All right, let’s get this loser’s stuff together and then perhaps we should throw out your current bedsheets and get some fresh new ones that don’t remind you of him. Actually, let’s give him all the bedding you currently have in your cupboard with the exception of your favorites. This apartment is all about you now. Let’s rid it of any trace of him.”

  I chuckle at her grandstand. Tim
e to get to work and clean this place up.

  About two hours later, I have bags and bags of clothes, shoes, toiletries, bedding, and everything else in our apartment that I hated or he bought himself.

  “So, I probably should’ve said this from the start, but I don’t even know where he’s staying now. I should find that out.”

  Adele tosses something into another bag. “Uh, yeah, that would be good unless we’re tossing this all in the bin. I’m okay with either option.”

  After grabbing my phone from the bed, I type out a quick message.

  Me: Hey, I need to know where you’re staying. I have some stuff here I’d like to get to you.

  It doesn’t take him long.

  Nathan: Bring it to my parents’ place please.

  “Damn,” I mutter as I stare at his message.

  “What?” Adele asks.

  “He wants me to take this stuff to his parents’ place. I don’t want to see them. Can we chuck it all in an Uber and send it on its merry way?” I’m sure my face is one of horror. His family is so snooty, and I don’t want to deal with them, let alone hear them say, ‘It’s for the best, dear.’ I might wring their perfect little necks. My breaths come fast.

  Adele rushes over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s just get this done. Once it’s gone, you don’t have to think about it again. Breathe slowly.” She breathes in and out—I copy her timing to slow mine down. After a moment, I’m myself again.

  My heart is still erratic, though. “Okay, I need to do this. Let’s go.”

  We order the biggest Uber we can and start carting everything down. I shoot off a quick message to Nathan.

  Me: We are on our way. Please make sure you’re there. I have your ring to give back.

  No reply comes through, but that’s not going to stop me from doing what needs to be done.

  “Let’s go dump this rubbish and grab cake.”

  My mouth salivates at the mention of cake. I’m going to need all the sugar.

  The Uber arrives, and the driver, a guy in his late thirties, I would guess, hops out of his family truck. “What’s all this?”

  “The result of a breakup,” I say and give a sad smile.

  “Hey, would you deliver these without us? I mean, we’re already paying for your service.” Adele shrugs and glances between myself and the confused driver, who studies each bag and piece of artwork as if he’s mentally trying to fit it into the car.

  Finally, he looks up at Adele and me. “I’m not your personal breakup service.” His gruff tone ends the idea.

  “I’m sure you’d make some good money doing that, though.” Adele winks.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. The driver opens the door and hops back into the truck.

  When the Uber pulls up outside of Nathan’s parents’ house, all of a sudden, I feel inadequate. Their two-story home is like a bright beam of white light, blinding me. Everything is perfect in this part of their upper-class life. Even a dead leaf isn’t allowed to fall from the tree like nature intended it to. Not a shrub or rock in the garden is untidy. I don’t even think a snail or caterpillar would be able to snack on their plants.

  My childhood home was simpler, the complete opposite of Nathan’s. I grew up in a small one-bedroom apartment. We were lucky if you didn’t have cockroaches crawling along the floors. My mother did the best she could with what she had. My father has never been on the scene—it’s just been Mom and me my whole life. She cared for me until I got halfway through college, and then I walked in on a bloody scene. No matter how much I try, I can’t erase that memory from my mind.

  “Wow.” Adele breathes.

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  She grabs the door handle and turns to me. “Let’s dump his crap and get the hell outta here.”

  I nod, and we both climb out of the car. On the way over, I’d asked the Uber if he wouldn’t mind waiting. He was all too happy to help, then said the guy must have been a jerk for letting a girl like me go. High-five to the driver.

  When I look up at the front door, a crowd has gathered. Nathan is front and center. His lips have been pulled into a thin line. I get the little green bag from inside the car. I swallow my anxiety about being here and walk toward him. He comes down the pebbled path. I hand the bag to him.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to see this again.” His snide remark makes my blood begin to boil.

  “It’s not mine. Why the hell would I want anything that reminds me of you?” I shove the bag into his chest and turn back toward the car. The driver has the trunk open. Screw the niceties. If he wants to treat me like rubbish, then he’s going to get the same treatment.

  “Just put all that stuff here.” I point to the gardens to the side of the driveway next to where Nathan still stands. I catch Adele’s face. She can’t hide her smirk. She picks up a bag and tosses it where I pointed.

  “Hey, don’t do that.” He rushes toward the car. I know it’s only bedding in that bag, but Nathan’s reaction is priceless.

  I walk over and take the paintings and go put them against the other bag. We keep unloading the vehicle. Turning to Nathan, I say, “Also, I’ll be contacting the apartment owner and getting it put it my name.”

  He laughs. “You’ll never be able to afford it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The crowd is still standing on the porch. Such a great bunch of people. The way they look at me in such disgust actually makes me feel good about my decision to dump his possessions. There’s no way I want to step foot in that house. Good riddance to this family. I’ve finally taken my rose-colored glasses off and seen them, especially Nathan, for who they truly are—people with sticks stuck so far up their asses.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jolene

  Minutes later, Adele and I are in fits of laughter in the back of the Uber. The driver has offered to refund this trip to us. I think he feels sorry for me. When Nathan laughed at me when I told him I’m erasing his name from the contract, it took everything in me not to punch him in his perfect face. I want to hurt him. I hope karma comes back around and gives him a swift kick to the head. He deserves all the pain and then some.

  “Gee, I’m glad you didn’t end up marrying that loser. I probably would’ve kidnapped you on your wedding day and then kept you hostage until you forgot about him. Or perhaps I’d have clocked you over the head to make you get amnesia.”

  “Damn, girl, that’s just evil. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” We pull up back out front of my building.

  “Are we still going to get cake?”

  “Maybe tomorrow. I have to go and see Mom. It’s been too long between visits.”

  Adele gives a small smile. “Okay, tomorrow. I’ll hold you to that because you deserve all the sugary sweetness. I’m super proud of what you did today.”

  I am proud of myself too. I didn’t think I could do this, but it’s possible with her by my side. She’s got my back. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” I shut the car door, and the car takes off back into traffic.

  What a day. I’ll grab some of Mom’s favorite takeout and spend the rest of the afternoon and dinner with her.

  I pick up Burger King and head to the living facility. When I get there, it’s silent. It’s always silent and kind of eerie.

  This is the best place for her. The plain white walls scream mental institution, and technically, that’s what it is.

  After I’d found my mother when she’d attempted to take her own life, the moment I got a job, I put her into the Eventide Assisted Living Facility, one of the best and most affordable facilities for those with mental health issues.

  “Good afternoon, Jolene,” says Margaret, a regular nurse. She’s an older lady, probably around the same age as my mother—mid-forties maybe. Her silver hair is tied up in a little bun that sits neatly on top of her small head.

  “Hey, Marg. How’s she going? I haven’t been in in a couple of weeks as I’ve been working so much.”

  Margaret’
s eyes crinkle at the sides as she smiles. “She has been doing great. Has even made some new friends.” We walk down the hall that leads to my mother’s private room. Other people move silently around us. We pass a communal area where families are visiting and playing games.

  Margaret walks in the door. “You have a visitor, Allison.”

  Her bright voice alerts my mother, who is sitting on her single recliner watching a movie. When she sees me, she’s on her feet and rushing toward me. I wrap my full arms around her. She smells like strawberry, the scent is familiar and intrinsically her.

  “Oh, Joey, I’ve missed you.” Her tiny arms release me, and she grips mine and squeezes. “It’s been too long, little girl.” Her brown eyes sing back at me. She’s happy. Then she sees what else I’ve brought and lets go of me. “And you brought my favorite dinner.” She squeals in delight. Though she’s in her forties, her mind is like that of a child sometimes. The doctors told me she’d suffered a breakdown and is no longer able to care for herself.

  Mom takes the bag of food from my hand and goes back to her chair. Margaret looks at her longingly, then turns back to me. “I’ll go get her meds to take with her food. She always loves seeing you. She’s so much happier when you come.” Her voice is low, but her words are powerful like a blow to my stomach.

  Is mom unhappy here?

  I go and take a seat on the neatly made bed. Mom happily snatches the burger and fries I’d brought for her and hands me the bag with my meal in it. I reach into my purse that’s hanging off my shoulder and pull out two bottles of water. I crack one open and pass it to her. She’s already unwrapped the burger and taken two bites from it.

  “Slow down, Mom. You’ll give yourself heartburn.” I laugh.

  She pauses and turns to look at me. Sauce is on the side of her mouth. We look similar—it’s as if I’m looking at myself in the future. Is it possible I’ll end up like her and in a home like this? I’ll have no one to look out for me because all my relationships end in disaster.

 

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