Marry Screw Kill

by Liv Morris

  An easy silence transpires between us as I come closer to the turn off for James’ house. “Down the next road is the home James built on five acres. It has private fencing all around the property and a gated entrance. I call it The Fortress,” I laugh, and notice Sinclair’s silence. I sneak a quick look and find him shaking his head.

  “You know he grew up on the Upper East Side,” Sinclair comments. “A high-energy concrete jungle. Here you can see open land stretching out forever. It’s the exact opposite of where he was raised. I still can’t believe he settled here.”

  “He doesn’t really talk about his upbringing.” James hardly ever mentions his family, other than telling me no one’s crazy about us being together. I’m surprised Sinclair came here, even if it’s for a clerkship at The Clinic.

  I point out a few landmarks on the way to the restaurant downtown. Well, actually, the only two we come across are the fairgrounds and a veteran’s memorial park. I’m embarrassed at the lack of culture in our town compared to what Sinclair has at his fingertips in New York City.

  We don’t have anything like Central Park or Times Square. But we do have one thing that makes this small, sleepy town stand out: the best medical center in the world. Kings and leaders come from all corners of the globe for care. Without The Clinic, this place would be a ghost town.

  “We’re almost to the restaurant. The Clinic is a couple blocks north of here, Sinclair.” I point ahead to two tall buildings popping up in the twilight sky ahead of us.

  “Do me a favor. Please, call me Sin. I hate the sound of my full name. It fits a guy wearing a bowtie and smoking a pipe.” He gestures over his body, highlighting he’s the furthest thing from a bowtie guy. “I do clean up well, though.”

  I bet you do. I wonder if he shaves that scruff on his jaw. It looks like the planned kind … the sexy-as-hell kind.

  I take a peek at his face and see him grinning back at me. Is he flirting? It’s second nature to a guy like him. He probably has women lined up back in New York City.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” Oh, crap. I can’t believe that slipped out of my mouth. He laughs next to me as I wait for his answer.

  “Nope. No girlfriends. Too busying trying to be a doctor.” I can’t stop the silly smile from forming on my lips. I should want him to be with someone, but oddly, I don’t.

  “I’m sorry that was none of my business.” I shake my head at my stupidity.

  “No problem. Speaking of business, there isn’t a lot going on downtown for a Friday night,” he says while scanning the nearly deserted roads.

  “Welcome to lively Rochester, Sin.” I add a nice dose of sarcasm with the comment and call him by his preferred name. It fits the devilishly handsome man sitting next to me.

  “We’re here.” I let out a long sigh of relief as I park on the street. I need some fresh air. His scent hits me the wrong way for someone getting married in four weeks.

  Before I can climb out of the car on my own, Sin’s there to open the door for me. Fast on his feet would be an understatement. I can’t remember the last time James did this simple act for me. Maybe back when he was still working to get me in his bed. How I miss those attentive days.

  “Thanks.” I bite my lip as I try to suppress the warm feelings his attention brings. It’s the attention I miss, not Sin giving it to me. I repeat this to myself, but I’m not convinced.

  We begin to walk toward Rogue’s entrance on the concrete sidewalk. He touches me right at the curve of my lower back and sirens go off in my head. Anyone watching might think we’re a couple. I pray no one James knows sees us. They have no idea Sin is James’ nephew and rumors fly at the speed of light in this version of Pleasantville.

  “You said this is a new place?” Sin frowns as he assesses the old bricks and not so clean windows. Blinking signs for beer greet us as we walk by.

  “Maybe new in Manhattan means opening night. Here,” I stop at the front door and gesture to the other buildings across the street, “things are a bit different, as you can see. We probably don’t do shiny and new like New York City, but we know how to cook.”

  “Very different.” He doesn’t speak to me in a condescending tone, more a teasing one. “But different in a good way.”

  “I hope so.” I look up at him and he smirks at me. My heart reacts with a tiny flutter, and I bet my face matches the color of my shoes. It’s like I’m a schoolgirl getting attention from my crush. What magic switch has this guy flipped in me?

  Sin acts and I respond. Everything about him draws a physical reaction from me. I wish James had picked him up from the airport, but as I feel the gentle caress of his hand on my back, I know that wish is a big lie.

  Sin ushers me inside the restaurant and my eyes take a minute to adjust. The brightness of the early evening sky contrasts harshly with the dark interior of wood and dim lighting. I blink a few times as we walk to the hostess station. A tall blonde I recognize from high school eyes us as we approach. We had a few classes together, but I haven’t seen her since graduation.

  Sin steps up to her. “Table for two please,” he says.

  I glance at her nametag and remember her name. Stephanie. Her gaze lingers on Sin for longer than it should before answering him. I think he’s having the same effect on her as he does me. I realize it’s him. I should be relieved, but instead, I want to tell her it’s not nice to stare.

  “Sure.” She retrieves a couple thick menus from under her station while glancing up at us, me in particular. “I remember you from high school. Harlow, right?” I nod and she ushers us deeper into the restaurant. We pass a few empty tables until we reach a shadowy corner in the back. “Thought you two might like a little privacy.”

  She thinks we’re here on a date. It’s our closeness that gives her this impression. Sin continues to touch my lower back like it’s hard for him to stop. I might’ve leaned into his hand a couple times, too. Might have …

  I want to tell her to sit us up front in a safer place, but Sin’s already pulled out a chair for me to sit in. I guess this will do. After all, I can’t say no to his kindness. Liar.

  “This is perfect. Thank you,” he confirms to Stephanie and sits down right next to me. We’re so close, our legs instantly touch, but neither of us pulls away. I blame our inaction on the lack of legroom and his long, muscular legs. Another lie.

  “Enjoy.” Stephanie places the menus down in front of us. “Your server, Jonathan, will be right with you.”

  The engagement ring on my finger flashes at me as I open the menu. My hand starts to tremble with nerves, so I make a wise decision—finally.

  “I’m going to move over here.” I slide into the next chair, bringing my menu with me.

  There’s more of a we’re friends space between us now. I exhale, but my hands continue to shake a bit.

  “Why did—” Sin starts to speak, but our server walks up and I cringe, my senses going on high alert.

  “Jonathan?” I ask, but I don’t know why. I’d know this guy from one-hundred feet away. He has stalked me for years. Years. I haven’t seen him since before my mother died. It would be my dumb luck to run into him tonight.

  “Harlow?” He has a wide-eyed look of surprise before curling his lip up into a stomach-turning smirk. He must think it’s sexy, but creepy is a better definition. Yuck.

  “Hi, Jonathan.” The smirk continues, and so does his full-on appraisal of my breasts. He glances down at my hand and scowls, not missing the rock on my finger.

  “It’s been a long time. How are you?” He places a couple glasses of water and some bread on the table, and turns his attention to Sin, knitting his brow. I hope he thinks I’m with Sin. That will really have him confused.

  “Good, and thirsty, thanks.” I’ve never been able to be a complete bitch to Jonathan, although I’ve been tempted. I look across the table to a grinning Sin.

  “How about a couple drinks, Jonathan?” Sin winks at me and I can’t help but smile back at him. His charm disarms me,
and likely every woman he meets. “I’ll take a Jack and Coke. Hold the Coke for now. And bring this lovely lady whatever she wants.”

  “Dirty martini for me, don’t hold the dirty or olives,” I say, returning Sin’s wink, which is really stupid and totally out of character. A slow, sexy smile rolls over his lips and his eyes darken. He liked that a lot, maybe too much. Crap.

  Poor Jonathan stands there glancing back and forth between us with narrowed eyes. I should introduce Sin, but I don’t want Jonathan to stay a second longer, and thankfully, he doesn’t. He tucks his tray under his arm and heads toward the bar, but I cringe knowing he has to return again, and again.

  “I think I made him feel uncomfortable. He seems to be a fan of yours. An old friend?” Sin leans on his elbows over the table and eyes me like I’m on the witness stand. He wants the truth about Jonathan, so I’ll give him the abridged version. No need to bore him with stalking issues from back in high school.

  “He moved to Rochester in eighth grade and has tried a million times to get me to go out with him.” I sigh, remembering back to the days when I couldn’t walk away from Jonathan fast enough. I hope he doesn’t get weird tonight in front of Sin.

  “He seems smitten.”

  “Let’s say he was persistent.” I roll my eyes to emphasize my point.

  “I can understand where he’s coming from, though.” What did he just say? I raise my head high and look at him in shock as a quiet heaviness encircles us.

  Needing a moment to regroup, I study the menu until Jonathan arrives with our drinks.

  “Here you go, Harlow.” He stares at me as he sets my martini down. I watch the glass tilt and tumble over before a stream of vodka flows down onto my white dress. Great.

  Jonathan grabs a cloth napkin off the table and begins to rub the wet area of my dress, which means his hands are all over my thighs. He’s breathing hard as I try to swat his hands away from me.

  “Stop,” I say through gritted teeth, but Jonathan pays no heed.

  “Not cool, man.” Sin sounds pissed and pulls the napkin out of Jonathan’s hand. He hands it to me, but it’s too wet to be used.

  “I’m so sorry, Harlow,” Jonathan pleads while standing, but I ignore him and glance around for a restroom.

  “Where’s the bathroom? I need a moment.” A bumbling Jonathan points to an even darker area in the back. I snatch up my bag and take off.

  Chapter Nine

  Sin

  “Dude, you need to calm the fuck down.” This tall, geeky kid has gone bat shit crazy. Ever since Harlow left the table, he’s been uttering something about his one true love and that damn doctor over and over again as he swipes the table bone dry. “Take a few deep breaths, man, before you pass out.”

  “Right,” he squeaks out in a high-pitched voice, then inhales and exhales a couple times, which makes him quit stammering for a few seconds. “I’m cool. I’m cool.” He straightens the black apron around his waist, but his shoulders are so tense, they’re nearly touching his ears.

  “So, did she break up with Dr. Elliott? Is that why you’re here with her?” He continues running his mouth before I can answer his questions, so I sit back in my chair and let him. “He keeps her locked up at his home. No one sees her out anymore. I heard she goes to the grocery store, stuff like that, and the country club, but that’s it.”

  “Hold up. What do you mean ‘he keeps her locked up at his home’?” I squint at him, trying to assess whether he’s just worked up or actually telling me the truth.

  “So, you don’t know about them? Who are you, by the way? I’ve never seen you around here before, and you’d be hard to miss.”

  He eyes me back, and I have a decision to make here. Do I lie about my connection to my uncle or tell him the truth?

  If I tell Jonathon I’m related to James, he’ll quit talking to me and I want to find out more from him. Knowing full well my uncle plans to meet us here and I’ll likely be exposed, I decide to take the gamble and get more information. It’s worth enduring some possible fallout later.

  “New to town. Met her today, as a matter of fact. She brought me here for dinner, but I’m paying. Now, back to the doctor. Tell me more. I’d like to know what I’m getting in to with her,” I say, needing to hurry him along before Harlow comes back to the table. I need this guy to focus. “So, you haven’t seen her in a long time?”

  “Not since the night her mother died.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, appearing to calm down. Thank fuck. “What I don’t understand is why he was at her bedside when she woke up.”

  “Stop right there. I’m clueless here.”

  “Harlow saw her mother’s boyfriend kill her mother. Then he blew his own brains out. Right in front of her, man.”

  How does anyone get over shit like that? I can’t even imagine what Harlow witnessed and how she’s dealt with the trauma.

  “Seeing your own mother killed in front of you? I have no words.”

  “It had to be a nightmare.” He closes his eyes and sighs. No matter how weird this guy is, and he’s odd as fuck, he really cares for Harlow … even if it’s in an obsessive way. “She was covered in blood and freaked out. The paramedics had to sedate her. They took her to The Clinic’s ER. A friend of mine is an orderly there. Said Dr. Elliott paced around her room until she woke up and the next thing you know, she’s living with him.”

  “Whoa.” I stop him for a second and let what he said sink in. I can’t believe what I’m hearing, from the murder/suicide to my uncle’s behavior. The words she spoke earlier about disobeying him circle my mind.

  “The rumor is she’d never met him before. I went by her apartment a couple days after her mother died.” He glances around the place and I look toward the back to see if Harlow’s walking this way. Once I see the coast is clear, I motion with my hand for him to continue. “I asked the landlord where Harlow was since there was police tape across the door. He said she never came back after that night.”

  Damn, this guy’s a total stalker, but he has given me a shit ton of information—disturbing and troubling stuff on so many levels. I hope to hell it isn’t true. What I don’t get is why my uncle came to her rescue. What brought them together?

  “Man, this is some shit. Thanks.” Needing this guy on my side for an hour or two while I’m alone with Harlow before James joins us, I offer him a deal. “Make yourself scarce when Harlow’s around and I’ll give you a two-hundred dollar tip.”

  He stands up taller and sticks out his chest. Shit, I don’t think he’s happy. “You just want to get in her pants, don’t you?”

  “I get the overprotective shit—hell, I feel it with her, too. I promise on my grandmother’s grave, I’m not going to mess with her.” I bring up my fingers in the Boy Scouts international sign of honor. He looks to the floor and shakes his head.

  “We’ll see.” He glances up and grimaces. I follow where he’s looking to find Harlow walking out of the restroom.

  Her blond hair bounces as she walks gracefully toward us on those damn red heels. I look up at her face and her magnetic eyes pull at me. I feel something deep for this young and beautiful woman who’s been through a living hell.

  “Jonathan, go get another martini for her, and I’ll remember my promise if you keep yours.” He nods and scuttles off to the side before Harlow arrives at the table. I think he’s scared to face her now.

  “Hey. He’s bringing another drink.” I stand and pull her chair out for her without a thought. I don’t think Rachel would recognize this version of me. Hell, I don’t either, but I have this strange desire to take care of her.

  “Thanks, Sin.” She looks straight into my eyes and touches my arm before settling into the chair. “He always acts so weird around me. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “He’s an idiot. Enough about him. How’s your dress?”

  “Totally salvageable. Now, if it had been red wine …” She pauses and tucks a wisp of blond hair behind her ear. “Good thing it was just vo
dka.”

  “You surprised me when you ordered the dirty martini. Seems rather strong. I would’ve pegged you as a Cosmo or wine drinker.”

  “Blame it on your uncle.” I raise my brows at her comment. I’m beginning to wonder about dear Uncle James. Things so far aren’t stacking up in his favor.

  “Interesting. What type of influence is he on you?” She glances down at the menu, which tells me my rhetorical question isn’t one she cares to answer. “Hungry?” I ask, hoping to keep it light. No need to push her.

  “I thought I was, but now, not so much. I think I’ll just order a chicken salad.”

  Jonathan returns with her drink and successfully sets it down. I almost clap. He takes our dinner orders and disappears, thankfully.

  “Cheers,” I say while raising my glass of Jack and looking over the rim into her eyes.

  “Cheers,” she says.

  We clink glasses and she brings hers up to her red lips, kissing the edge. Much to my surprise, she doesn’t stop drinking until almost half of it is gone. She licks her lips, and I’m amazed at her performance. For one, it was sexy as fuck, but dirty martinis are basically straight vodka and she drank it down like a pro.

  I take a couple sips of my Jack while she drains the rest of hers. I’ve never witnessed a woman plow through a martini like that, not even in the hard drinking bars of the West Village. I wonder whether I should be impressed or worried.

  “I don’t normally drink like that, but it’s been a day.” I swallow hard as she takes the stick-skewered olives and pops them into her perfect mouth. Watching her devour this drink has me sitting on the edge of my chair, wanting an encore. If she licks her lips, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  “Want another one?” She nods enthusiastically and I push the breadbasket Jonathan gave us in front of her. “Okay, but you need something in your stomach before you have more.”

  “Yes, sir.” What did she say? I sit back in my chair, taken aback. She must have me confused with James and his “obey me” shit.