100 PROOF

by Shanora Williams

  “Oh yeah,” Vin laughed bitterly. “I know exactly how he is. It’s cool.”

  She patted him on the chest, smiling softly at him. “Come on. Tell me about Club 7-1-9’s first weekend! You’ll have to tell me those numbers again, too, because I just can’t believe what I heard!” She looked back at me, waving a hand. “Join us, Marlena!”

  Vin looked with her, and I saw the invitation swirling deep in his eyes.

  “Okay,” I murmured, ignoring the frenzy in my belly.

  I followed after them, and when we made it to the den, that’s when I saw the portraits of Vin and Lloyd. I’d never been in the den before. My first visit to this home was very brief—Lloyd and I only stayed for an hour and were out on the deck for most of the time.

  In the photos, they were young. There were a lot of them, Vin and Lloyd together, but only one of them really caught my eye.

  Vin couldn’t have been older than fourteen in this photograph. He had his arm slung over Lloyd’s shoulders, and Lloyd looked up at him like any little boy would look up to his big brother—like he adored him. I could tell Vin always protected him and was always there for him.

  Their bond seemed unbreakable, and it made me wonder what tore them apart so much in the first place.

  • • • • •

  The catering arrived in no time, and we sat at the dining table for a little over an hour. Lloyd and Mr. Harris were still drinking, laughing over stupid inside jokes. Vin was mostly quiet, watching them—observing.

  I knew for a fact he was only here because his mother probably pleaded with him, dying for him to come spend some time with her. I ate quietly too, passing glances at my fiancé, but mainly my ex.

  While Lloyd told some story about a flight to New York, my eyes happened to swoop over to Vin’s. They held—locked and barred. I saw a tiny smile grace his lips, very subtle, but clear to me. He had an elbow on the arm of his chair, leaning back, his thumb beneath his chin and his forefinger beneath the tip of his nose.

  I smiled back, just enough for him to see, and when he looked away to focus on his brother, so did I.

  “I could use another drink,” Lloyd boasted after dessert. Vin had taken off for a smoke out on the deck and Mr. Harris had gone upstairs to his office to take an important phone call. Lloyd started to stand, but stumbled sideways a bit.

  “Lloyd, you’re already drunk.” I gripped his shoulder, forcing him back down in his chair. “I’ll get it. Just sit there.”

  “I’m not drunk,” he sniggered.

  “Yes, you are, honey,” Mrs. Harris tittered. “But I’m glad to see you actually enjoying your time off.”

  “Just know you won’t be driving back home tonight,” I added before entering the kitchen. He said something I couldn’t quite comprehend, but I didn’t even bother stopping to ask him to repeat it.

  Instead, I walked to the wine fridge and pulled it open, grabbing another bottle. As I searched for clean glasses, I heard the patio door slide open and Vin walked in, swinging his eyes over to me.

  “Your brother is in there making an ass of himself,” I said, pulling down two glasses. I was sure Mr. Harris was going to want another as well, once he returned.

  “When isn’t he?” Vin teased with a laugh.

  I found the corkscrew and smiled, opening the bottle. “At least you don’t have to go home to that.”

  I was almost finished uncorking the bottle, but then a hand cupped my ass, heat flooding my backside. I felt dampness on my neck as he kissed me, a light trace of tobacco and cologne slipping past my nose now.

  “You don’t have to go home with him,” he murmured, squeezing my ass, lips pressing down on the back of my neck again. I clenched in my panties, my breath accelerating.

  “Vin, they’re in the next room.”

  “They can’t see us,” he murmured on the shell of my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “I know you didn’t expect me to just resist the entire night,” he continued, the tip of his nose riding down the curve of my neck. He kissed the top of my shoulder. “Not with you looking like this. All I want to do is take off these clothes and fuck you on this counter, Marley.”

  “Well, you can’t,” I breathed, and he squeezed my ass tighter, nipping the lobe of my ear with his teeth.

  “Wanna bet? I don’t have shit to hide. I don’t care if they catch us. The only reason I haven’t said anything or stepped out of line is because you don’t want me to. I don’t want to make you unhappy.” He twisted me around and a small gasp spilled through my lips. I could hear Lloyd talking about something else that I didn’t care about. When Vin’s arms wrapped around my waist and he glued himself to me, Lloyd’s voice was just a deep, distant mumble.

  “Don’t be stupid, Vin.”

  He smirked. “Call me the name you really want to call me.”

  I blinked up at him, my belly fluttering, body swimming with heated desire. He lowered his head, skimming his full, pink lips over mine, his scruff lightly grazing my cheek and chin.

  “Vinny,” I breathed against his lips.

  “Did you dress yourself like this for me?” He grinned, like he already knew the answer.

  “I knew you would be here.” Lloyd roared with laughter from the dining room. While his brother laughed, Vin took the opportunity to passionately kiss me, like he’d been craving this kiss ever since he landed—or perhaps when I left the club.

  “Meet me tonight at my hotel?” he rasped when the kiss broke, a hand running down my hip.

  “How? Lloyd is off. He’ll be home.”

  “He’ll pass out as soon as he gets to the car. He thinks I can’t hold my liquor, but he’s the one who can’t hang.”

  I shook my head, fighting a smile. I looked to the left, where the dining room entrance was, but then my face dropped, my heart nearly failing me.

  I snatched myself away from Vin as I spotted Mr. Harris standing there, his empty glass in hand and his forehead heavily creased.

  He wasn’t staring at me, though.

  No, he was looking at his stepson, Vin.

  MARLEY

  Vin stared back, unflinching, not daring to move away from me. We were caught, and I had no words—no sort of explanation. Shit shit shit!

  “You just can’t stand to see your brother happy, can you?” Mr. Harris snarled, stepping towards Lloyd. “Got your hands all over this girl like she’s yours.”

  I swallowed hard, eyes wide and hot.

  Vin didn’t say a word.

  Inside, I was freaking out. Mr. Harris would tell. He loved his son and he hardly knew me. I thought he would blow up and call Vin out. I thought he would start throwing things, scolding him and me . . . but he didn’t.

  Instead, he came up to the island counter, finished opening the bottle of wine, and then poured a glass. “Go and give your mother a kiss, tell her you have to go somewhere right now.”

  Wait . . . what? I was confused.

  “Mr. Harris—”

  I started to speak but he held up a finger, head shaking. “No, Marlena. Don’t you dare try and defend him. He came onto you and I know it because he’s no damn good. Touching you that way—like he has the fucking right. You don’t want to be rude and push away—you’re a nice girl. I get that, and he’s a handsome young man, but he can be really fucking stupid.”

  I looked up at Vin but he only scowled at Mr. Harris, who was sneering now. “Is that what you’ll tell them?” he asked, voice calmer than I liked, like he was used to this.

  “If you leave right now, I won’t tell them a damn thing, boy. I’ll drink this bottle of wine, fall asleep, you’ll be gone, and it’ll be like none of the shit I just witnessed ever happened! It’s amazing how a little alcohol can make a person forget all about the night before . . . but you already know all about that, don’t you, boy?”

  Vin looked to his left and shook his head with a dry laugh. “Okay. I get it, Will. I’ll leave. Just keep her out of it.”

  “As long as she still agrees to m
arry my son, she’s safe with me. I don’t have time for him to find someone else and schedule another wedding.”

  Vin stepped away from me as soon as he said that, still glowering at his drunken stepfather as he walked around the counter and through the dining room.

  I heard him make up some excuse about how he had important calls to make and had to go to his hotel, and then I heard a door close seconds later. It all happened so quickly that I didn’t even get a chance to fully breathe.

  I stood in the kitchen, right across from Mr. Harris, who was guzzling down his fifth glass of chardonnay.

  When he finished, he put on a big smile and said, “Yeah. I know all about the deal my son made with you, and if I wasn’t carrying a disease, I would have told your pretty ass to get the hell out of my kitchen right along with that asshole. But, I am.” He paused, catching his breath, running his fat fingers over his face. “Huntington’s. Apparently it’s genetic. Not that I ever knew. My father died before he turned thirty. Doc just diagnosed me four months ago, but I haven’t told my boy yet, or my wife. I’ll be considered unfit to make decisions for my company soon, so I’ll need Lloyd to step in as soon as possible. You marry him, give him a baby—doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or girl as long as they’re smart—and I’ll know my company is in good hands and will have a long future. I won’t hand it over to anyone else but him. Let’s just pray this disease doesn’t get passed down to my grandkid.” He stepped back, stumbling sideways but catching himself on the counter.

  “Vin grew up with you,” I whispered. “He’s never done anything wrong to you. Why are you so rude to him? Why don’t you treat him like your son too?”

  His face turned serious, brows stitching together. “That boy ain’t my son and he never will be. He’s a fucking bastard—doesn’t belong to me, doesn’t carry my blood, and I refuse to claim another man’s mistake. Rebecca never should have given birth to that boy to begin with.”

  He seemed way too angry about it. Wow. I guess Vin was right. He was fucked up for a reason and it was most likely because of them. He’d never been accepted by Mr. Harris, or even Lloyd. Maybe it was their fault he’d turned into an alcoholic. Mr. Harris’s hatred for Vin was raw and pure, and he didn’t dare hide it.

  Neither of them hid it, and it was sickening.

  He walked away, into the dining room, laughing and being boastful. I returned to the dining room as well, sitting right next to Lloyd, listening to Mr. Harris tell stories like nothing had even happened—just like he’d said. I wasn’t even sure if he really had forgotten because he was so drunk, or that he just didn’t care as long as I stuck by Lloyd’s side.

  I drove us home, and Vin was right. Lloyd passed out in the car and I struggled to get him inside and up the stairs. I tossed him down on the bed and couldn’t help but stare down at him.

  “Where’s Wendy?” Lloyd’s voice slurred as I started to take off his shoes. I stopped, standing up straight again and seeing a stupid smile plastered on his face. Tears burned my eyes, my fists clenching with unwarranted anger.

  I couldn’t even be angry because I agreed to this. I agreed to marry this arrogant, no-good asshole.

  “Wendy? Are you serious?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, shut the hell up, Marlena.” He pushed up, stumbling as he took a step towards me. I backed away with a frown and he pointed a finger at me. “I know you’re fucking my brother. I’m not stupid.”

  “W-what?”

  “Yeah,” he sneered. “I know.” He rushed me, gripping my shoulders hard and forcing my body against the wall. He caged me between his arms, reeking of alcohol. He’d had way too much wine. “Is he better than me?”

  “You’re drunk,” I muttered.

  He laughed, watching my eyes. “He is, isn’t he? That’s the only reason you keep fucking him.” I pushed against his chest, glad he was too drunk to put up a fight. “I just want you to know, Marley, you can do whatever the hell you want with him . . . for now anyway. But as soon as we’re married, there will be no more of that. He’s lucky I’m even allowing it, but hey—I don’t mind sharing a slut. ‘Cause that’s all you are. You’re a slut for fucking my stupid brother, but you’re my slut! I own you! Remember that!”

  I stared at him, stunned. I didn’t know this Lloyd at all. This wasn’t because he was drunk. No. This was pure rage and hatred. Whatever anger he was holding inside was being spewed at me, and I wasn’t about to take it.

  “You’re a fucking jackass. I’m leaving!”

  “Yeah, go! Go and fuck him, Marlena! I know that’s what you’re going to do. Everyone always runs to him! Just know if you want your mom’s health insurance to stay paid up, you’ll be back here in the morning. You’re about to be my wife. Mine,” he growled when I turned for the door. “He gets my mother’s attention the most. He gets spoiled by her all the fucking time—ever since we were kids. Fuck that. He doesn’t get you too! You know what—I’m glad he doesn’t have shit! I’m glad we ruined his trust! All of his fuck ups only make me look better!”

  It took everything in me not to turn and slap him. A brother, envious of his own brother. I couldn’t believe how childish he was being. I went back downstairs and to the car to retrieve my clutch.

  I text Vin, asking for the hotel name and number. He responded almost immediately, no questions asked, and no other words but the name and number.

  I picked up my keys from the table in the foyer, locked the door behind me, and then hopped in my car, driving to the one person I knew could calm me down and help me think.

  He was the one person I could be around after a long, hard day and instantly feel myself relaxing. I felt like an addict looking for her next fix. I felt jittery and anxious, my pulse a chaotic mess. I was hostile and fuming, needing escape—release.

  As soon as I knocked on his hotel room door and he swung it open, the anxiousness subsided and my pulse leveled, turning into a soothing rush. He wore no shirt and his hair was a mess. He looked down at me with fierce brown eyes.

  He didn’t speak, and neither did I.

  His tongue ran over his lips and then he stepped back, spreading his arms further apart. I rushed forward, clashing right into him, gluing my mouth to his. He picked me up, slamming the door behind us and then spinning around, carrying me away.

  I didn’t care where he was taking me. I didn’t care what he did to me, as long as he was right next to me while it happened. With this kiss and this passionate embrace, I could breathe better. I could think much more clearly. I could feel everything and I felt lighter, like a thousand weights had fallen off my shoulders.

  Vincent Chambers was my sweetest temptation, my favorite drug, and my greatest addiction. My cravings for him had come back full-force, and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it now.

  VIN

  I wasn’t expecting her to come by.

  I also wasn’t expecting her to say much while she was here. We were caught red-handed, yet she hadn’t said a word about it. I could tell it was bugging her.

  She had her legs crossed, the way she used to sit when she felt stressed. Her legs pulled up to her chest, hands wrapped around them. She sat in a wide chair right in front of the wide, square window that revealed a glimpse of the Houston skyline.

  I opened the mini-fridge with a sigh, pulling out a can of soda. Walking her way, I ran my knuckles over her cheek and she looked up. When she caught sight of the Mountain Dew, she grinned.

  “You remember.” It was a statement, not a question.

  I smiled. “I do.”

  She accepted the soda, clutching it in hand and staring down at the green can. “He doesn’t even know what my favorite soda is. He doesn’t know that I love art. He doesn’t know shit about me, honestly.” Her laugh was dry.

  I reached down to pick her up and she studied my eyes as I sat down with her on my lap now. I used to pull that move all the time—when I knew she had a lot on her mind and needed comfort. It was that, or she’d climb on my lap and curl up on my
chest, the top of her head beneath my chin.

  “He knows about us—what we’re doing.”

  I was shocked to hear that. “Will told him?”

  She shrugged. “No. I’m assuming he figured it out. I guess it’s obvious. I don’t know.” She released a thick, ragged breath, like she was about to cry. “He said he’d stop paying for my mom’s treatments,” she whispered, still looking at me.

  “Fuck him. I’ll pay for them.”

  “Vinny, you just got your club up and running. You need to take care of you, not take on my burdens.”

  “Marley, would you stop? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of that. Your problems are mine, too.”

  She shook her head hard. “It’s too late, Vin.”

  I gripped the back of her neck, forcing her forehead down on mine. “It’s not too late.”

  “We’re almost a month out. I can’t cancel. Mr. Harris will tell your mother and Lloyd won’t just let me walk away. We had a deal.”

  I dropped my hand, looking away. “It almost sounds to me like you don’t want to walk away, Marley. Like you’re choosing him over me.”

  “No, it’s not that, I swear!” She held my face in her hands, studying my eyes, bringing her lips close. “It’s not that and you know it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I saw her throat bob and then she lowered her gaze. “I love you, Vin. You know that. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  “Then walk away from all of that shit and let me do what I can. I know what I’m making on my own barely scratches the surface, but I can do it. If I keep working—keep running the club the right way and working my ass off—then I can do it. I can get your mother taken care of, and I will also be able to take care of you. Marley, you mean the fucking world to me. Don’t give yourself away to someone who will only destroy you—”

  Before I could finish, her finger pressed on my lips. She breathed unsteadily, placing one hand on my shoulder and bringing the other up to stroke my cheekbone.

  “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” she murmured, eyes glistening. “Please, Vinny. I just—I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to be with you. I want you to make me forget, like you always used to do. Please.” She squeezed her eyes shut and the tears fell.