by Carr, K
In the ten seconds it had taken for that to transpire, Matt had closed the small distance between him and Bret. Before I could blink, he had Bret around the neck and looked like he was about to throttle him.
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he dragged out in a menacing tone. “Hit her again and I’ll kill you.”
“Matt,” I shouted, grabbing his arm and trying to yank him away from my friend, who was staring at him from goggled eyes, while his face started turning pink from lack of air. “It’s a game. It’s just a game. Matt. Let him go.”
I don’t think Matt heard me. I had never seen him look so angry. Forget the thousands of pounds suit he wore and his slicked-back hair, Matt looked like he was about to throw down. And poor Bret was the person marked for an ass whopping.
“Matt.” I slipped my hand in his hair and tugged. Hard. That finally got his attention. “Let him the fuck go.”
Matt inhaled deeply, grey eyes flashing with barely contained rage, danger about ready to spill out and unleash a fury that I’d never witnessed before. Then I remembered the night we’d met. Shit. I shoved him away and slipped between them, back pressed against Bret’s heaving chest as I went into protective mode. Well, drunk protective mode.
“Are you insane? You can’t jack my friend up like that. Why are you here? I said Friday, Matt. Friday, not Monday.”
Sol walked into the kitchen with Dante right behind her. “Que paso?”
“El loco novio de MSG, trato de matarme,” Bret explained.
Matt’s eyebrows lowered. “I did not try to kill you. I threatened to kill you if you ever hit Madison again.”
My mouth fell open. “You speak Spanish, too?”
Matt shot me an unhappy scowl. “Yes.”
“I don’t like him, MSG,” Bret groused as he encircled my bare stomach with his arms.
Matt’s expression darkened, gaze lowering to Bret’s arms around me. When he raised his eyes to look at Bret, I heard my friend gulp.
“I’m not fond of you either, mate,” Matt said coldly. He held a hand out towards me. “Come here. Now.”
I was drunk. High. And pissed off Matt was here. I hadn’t asked him to come, had I? I vaguely remembered speaking to him earlier…briefly.
“Stop bossing me around.” The air between us was tense, hell the whole atmosphere in my kitchen was loaded with tension.
Until Bella said lightly, “Mmm, these brownies are good, Madi.”
“Bella.” Nathan spun around. He’d jumped up from his seat when Matt had jacked Bret up against the fridge. “You didn’t.”
She swallowed and dabbed at the crumbs around her lips. “Didn’t what, darling? I meant to say they smell nice. Really nice.”
I burst out laughing, couldn’t help it. Her innocent face, Nathan’s disapproving frown. It was funny.
I patted Bret’s clasped hands and he released me. A drop of relief eased into Matt’s face. It disappeared when I walked towards the counter instead of his arms. My bottle of whiskey was where I left it before Matt’s untimely arrival. With my back to everyone, I took a long swig, enjoying the burn immensely. God. Today couldn’t get any worse.
The kettle began to whistle and I remembered I had offered them drinks. I sighed and turned around to face my people-filled kitchen.
“Someone else has to make the tea. I’m going to help Sol pack,” I said, needing time to think. Sol’s mouth parted, then she saw my face and nodded immediately.
“Yes, MSG and I are going to pack,” she confirmed, as I gripped my bottle and hurried over to her.
I paused by the door, conscious of Matt’s burning gaze on me, and suddenly feeling guilty for leaving Bella out. I would hate being the only woman in a room with four men.
“Bella, you can come if you want,” I offered with a weak smile. She’d probably think I was mental after today. Ah, well.
Bella glanced at Nathan, then nodded as she got up from the chair. She smiled sweetly at her fiancé before sneakily nabbing two brownies without him noticing.
I smiled. Maybe she wouldn’t think I was mental. We left the guys in the kitchen and made our way upstairs to my bedroom. Bella and Sol hit it off immediately. I figured they would. Hey, we were all creative beings. Sol, a musician. Bella, an architect. And, me, unhappy little ballerina me.
I took a deep swig from my bottle; maybe not so unhappy when the bottle became empty.
“Loaded,” I answered for Bella when Sol asked if she was as wealthy as Matt. “And it’s rude to discuss someone’s personal finances, Sol.”
Sol shrugged and continued painting her fingernails on my bedspread. If I saw one drop of baby pink on my bed I would thump her.
Bella suddenly reached over and took the bottle from my hand. She put it to her lips and took a dainty sip, before taking a larger one. My eyebrow shot up.
“Slow down there, Bella,” I warned, wanting my damned whiskey back. This was my last bottle, I needed to ration it.
Bella giggled, then burped. “Oh my. I think I’m high. How absolutely delightful. I feel as if I’m back at Uni.”
Sol and I exchanged a jaded stare. Bella hadn’t shared the two brownies she brought upstairs. Three good-sized pieces in total. Yeah, she’d be feeling buzzed.
Sol put down the nail polish and eased the whiskey from Bella’s hand. She took a swig, then passed it back to me. I cradled the bottle against my chest, vowing silently to keep everyone else away from it. We were probably in the bedroom for half an hour before someone knocked loudly on the door. I stared at it with nervous eyes. It was Matt. I knew it was him outside my room. I could feel his stern presence pulsating through the wood, ready to tell me off for being an irresponsible adult.
The door opened slowly and, sure enough, Matt’s irritated face popped around it.
“If you ladies don’t mind,” he started with a tight smile on his lips. “I’d like a word with Madi in private.”
Bella struggled off the bed. Matt eyed her suspiciously and, when she giggled at absolutely nothing, he shot me an accusing look.
“I didn’t make her eat it,” I grumbled in self-defence. “She’s grown, Matt.”
Matt cleared his throat softly and Sol slid off the bed. How did he do it? Make people follow his orders with just a look, a word, or even a sound. Matthew Bradley was some sort of Houdini. And Houdini had been mad.
Giggling, Bella let Sol lead her toward the door Matt held open.
“Thank you,” he said politely as Sol eased past him. Bella patted his cheek lightly as she passed by.
“You’ll be okay, right MSG?” Sol queried, shooting uncertain glances between me and Matt.
I nodded and Matt stepped into the room, shutting the door firmly. Sitting on my bed made me feel vulnerable, so I scooted around until my feet touched the floor and stood up on the other side of it, whiskey clutched to my chest and mentally preparing myself for another one of Matt’s lectures. The twin eyebrows of doom were at lecture level. I’d sussed out the varying degrees of arching now.
“What are you doing, Madison?” he asked in a calm voice.
“Trying to get through my birthday the only way I know how,” I replied as calmly, even though my palms were becoming a touch sweaty.
Matt’s features hardened with disapproval as he took a few steps further into the bedroom. I clutched the bottle tighter.
“By getting sloshed? By taking drugs? You’re twenty-seven years old. Act like a bloody adult, not some Uni student whose sole intent is to party.” His words ended in a shout and it startled me, immensely.
Matt and I had arguments, as all normal couples do, but he rarely shouted at me the way he was shouting now. I blinked slowly, trying to shrug free from the fog of alcohol and pot so I could clearly articulate the many ways he should get fucked.
“Look at you,” he continued yelling. “Practically half naked without a bra, parading around in front of your friends who, by the way, are complete arses for letting you get in this state.”
&nbs
p; “Don’t talk about my friends that way,” I yelled back. “I am an adult and, if I choose to get wasted, it’s my damn prerogative. And what’s wrong with my clothes? I’m in my house. If I want to walk about naked, I’ll damn well walk about naked.”
Things descended pretty quickly after that. Levels of maturity, of stupidity, were the common thread of our shouts. Lack of respect featured, too. His overbearing dominance. My inability to deal with my problems in a logical manner. But I lost it when he yelled, “For God’s sake, speak proper English. You’re in England, not the hood.” No one cracked on my adopted hometown or the way we spoke. I called him all levels of snob. He called me petulant and combative…and a drunk. I took a swig from my bottle, for spite. The clear grey of Matt’s piercing eyes darkened to a virulent silver. He was past mad, and I was speeding down that same highway of rage with him. My birthdays usually sucked. This one was no better.
<><><>
Nathan glanced up at the ceiling and winced. The muffled shouts were getting louder. His sweet Bella was high, but upset over the argument taking place above their heads.
Madi’s friends also cast a few upward glances, but they seemed less concerned than he was.
“Should someone go up there?” he finally asked. They were watching football, or soccer as her friends referred to it. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes trying to explain the offside rule to Bret and Marie-Sol.
“No,” Dante said. “It’s good that she’s arguing.”
“I beg your pardon?” Nathan asked in confusion. What sort of friend was this Dante?
The three of them, Dante, Marie-Sol, and Bret, looked at each other and nodded in agreement. Whatever their secret look meant, Nathan didn’t care. Bella was upset and he would do anything to ensure she wasn’t. Matt and Madi needed to stop this nonsense at once.
“Well,” he said, getting up in a huff. “I’ll go then.”
They turned to regard him with varying degrees of irritation on their faces. Nathan felt his ire raise. Did they not know who he was?
“Look, man,” Dante said. “It’s better if Madi’s arguing.”
“If she’s fighting, then she’s not crying,” Bret continued.
“Judgemental asshole!” came from above.
Nathan shook his head and started towards the stairs. He’d had enough. With determined strides, he found himself outside the bedroom they were in. He forwent knocking. They were shouting so loudly they probably wouldn’t hear it anyway. When he opened the door, the sight that met his eyes filled him with surprise. Matt had discarded his jacket and his tie had been tugged into a haphazard way around his collar. His hair was no longer neatly brushed back, instead standing on end around the sides, an obvious indication of him running his hands frequently through it, with a whiskey bottle held behind his back.
Madi was glaring up at him, hands on hip, showing no signs of backing down, her face twisted into a sneer, and the look she was giving Matt made Nathan pause. People didn’t argue with Matthew Bradley. They tried their utmost not to displease him. Yet, here she was, this slip of a woman, yelling defiantly into his best friend’s chest. Bloody hell, she was tiny in comparison to Matt.
But it was Matt’s behaviour that made Nathan realize how much she’d truly changed him. His friend didn’t rage like this. He didn’t create scenes. Matt was a private man who conducted his business, both personal and professional, behind an aloofness that was inbred in him. He didn’t have quarrels within the earshot of others. In fact, Nathan had never seen Matt so incensed with a woman before. He never cared enough about them to react in this way. Usually, he’d simply ignore any unwelcome behaviour and move on. Now he was going at it like a raging bull. He was not acting like a Bradley. He was not acting like his usual detached self.
Nathan slammed the door shut, startling them both and finally drawing their attention to him.
“Stop this foolishness at once,” he stated without humour.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing in here, Nathan?” Matt growled at him. “Get out.”
“Get a hold of yourself, Matt,” Nathan retorted. “Both of you actually. This behaviour is unacceptable and downright unpleasant. You’ve upset my fiancée, and I’m not having that.”
Nathan watched as Madi tried to reach for the bottle Matt was holding out of her reach and responded curtly, “And I’m trying to take care of mine.”
Nathan was sure neither one of them realized what Matt had said. They were too embroiled in their anger for the importance of Matt’s words to sink through the haze of fury that surrounded them.
“Stop that,” Matt grumbled at her, catching her wrists with one hand and holding the bottle well out of her reach above his head. “You’ve had quite enough to drink these past few days.”
“Stop telling me what I can and cannot do. You—you mutated giant. Give me that bottle.”
If Nathan hadn’t been irritated at their behaviour, he would have laughed at the sight of Madi’s determined attempts to get the bottle that Matt was not relinquishing. This had to stop.
“Bloody hell, Matt. Give her the damn bottle already,” Nathan grated out coldly. “It’s her birthday and she can drink if she wants to. We got up to a lot worse at her age.”
Madi glared at Matt and yanked her hands free before smacking one against his chest. “Hypocrite.”
Matt sent Nathan an evil glower before he turned back to Madi. “Grow the hell up, Madison. Act your age, not your bloody shoe size.”
Nathan saw the flash of hurt across her face, and his annoyance increased at his friend. “Matthew. Leave the poor girl alone. She’s right. You are a hypocrite. And a mean bastard, too.” Nathan beckoned to Madi, lowering his voice to a gentler tone. “Why don’t you go on downstairs, Madison? I think Bella wants to speak to you.”
Matt turned his angry gaze back to Nathan. “Get the hell out of here, Nathan, and stop meddling in my business. Madi and I are having a discussion that doesn’t concern you. Now leave.”
Nathan ignored Matt and smiled at Madi. “Go on. I’ll sort this.” He didn’t know why, but his pride had been pricked earlier on at the restaurant. Madi obviously felt more at ease with Bella than him. The fact an invitation had been extended to his fiancée and not him spoke volumes. Did she not like him? Everyone liked him, he was Nathan Walthamstow. He found her to be charming, a tad over-exuberant and feisty, but generally a lovely, young woman. Why did she not feel friendly overtures towards him? Nathan inhaled sharply, realizing that he was about to fall under the spell she seemed to have woven around those that met her. What was it with Madison DuMont?
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and beckoned to her again. With an uncertain face, she gave up on trying to reclaim her whiskey and slowly moved towards him.
“Where do you think you’re going, Madison?” Matt bellowed. “We’re not finished talking.”
“Stop shouting at her,” Nathan said.
Matt looked at him in surprise. Then, cold fury filled his face as he said, “Mind your own bloody business, Nathan, and leave me to mine.”
Nathan saw Madi hesitate, glancing back at Matt to gauge his reaction. Nathan strode over to her and touched her arm lightly. “Bella’s waiting and your friend Marie-Sol mentioned something about food ten minutes ago.”
“Damn,” she muttered, eyes widening. “I forgot about that.”
“Madison,” Matt growled as she hurried to the door. “We’re not finished.”
She exhaled noisily and showed him her expressive middle finger. “Eat shit, Matthew. It’s my birthday today.”
The door slammed shut behind her and Matt glared fiercely at Nathan, who returned his look with one of reproach.
“What is your problem, Matt?” Nathan started in on him. Better to be on the offensive than defensive with Matt. That way you had a better chance of winning. “Carrying on like this. Shouting at Madison—”
“It doesn’t concern you, Nathan,” he replied frigidly.
Nathan s
coffed as he let his eyes wander around the bedroom. There were items of Madison’s career strewn throughout the room. Ballet shoes hanging of the back of the chair, in the corner close to the window, and peeking out from under the bed. Leotards over one open door of the wardrobe, tights on its handle. He saw bits of Matt, too, in the room. The aftershave he used on the dresser, a few suits hanging in the wardrobe.
“You’re being an arse. A hypocritical one at that. So what if she’s had a bit to drink and funny brownies? That’s nothing in comparison to what we’ve done. Oh, don’t give me that look. I was right next to you doing blow in Denmark.”
“That was years ago. I was younger and foolish then,” Matt groused, cheeks tinged pink with barely restrained anger and embarrassment.
“Last time we partied like that, we were thirty, mate. That’s older than she is. Why are your knickers in a twist? Let her live a little.”
Matt narrowed his eyes at him. “Have you been in those brownies? Because it seems to me your brain is addled at the moment.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly fine,” Nathan said, in an attempt to maintain control of the conversation.
Matt peered at him. “You’ve had one, haven’t you?”
Nathan shrugged nonchalantly as he avoided Matt’s knowing gaze. “It would be rude not to indulge in the treats laid out by our hostess. Bella wanted me to try—look, that’s beside the point. Why are you behaving like this? It’s unbecoming of you. It’s her birthday and you’ve upset her, and everyone else, let me add. Plus, you’ve left me downstairs with her friends. There’s only so much Americanisms I can take, Matt. That Bret fellow can’t seem to grasp the offside rule. It’s irritating having to explain it over and over.”
Matt sent him another glare, arms folded stiffly across his chest.
Nathan rubbed his temples for a moment. “Her friends seem to think it’s better for her to be angry, mentioned something along the lines that if she’s arguing with you then she wouldn’t be crying. Is that because of her parents’ death? If I remember correctly, that’s around now, isn’t it?”