Seconds later, Blake walks around the corner. The rage once again consumes me. Jackson hasn’t got a hope in hell of stopping me now. I step out and swing, Blake registering my presence milliseconds before my hand connects with his jaw. I feel a satisfying crack beneath my knuckles. I hope it’s fucking broken. He tries to rush me, but Jackson blocks his path, doubling him over with a hard punch to his gut. I grab him by the collar and slam him into the coarse brick wall of the building next to us. He stares at me. No regret or remorse. No fear.
“You should have left the fucking state! The country!” I yell. “In fact, a piece of shit like you doesn’t even belong on this planet! After the way you treated Emily, tell me why the fuck I shouldn’t just kill you!”
Jackson flanks my right shoulder, jaw and fists clenched. Eyes cold and hard. Ready to react if the motherfucker decides to even take a small step in retaliation.
But he doesn’t. He laughs. A maniacal, wild, and honestly, quite unnerving laugh. “Go ahead,” he says, spitting the blood in his mouth on the floor next to him. “You got the girl. You managed to become the most beloved son again. I have nothing left. Not even Aria. Not anymore.”
“You reap what you sow, fucker,” says Jackson.
I slam Blake hard against the wall with a thud, letting him go. He slips miserably down to the dirty asphalt. “You’re not even worth my time,” I spit. “But if you ever, ever come near Emily or Sadie again—if I ever even hear that you uttered either of their names, I will hunt you down and I will fucking rip your heart from your chest. And I’ll enjoy every motherfucking minute! Are we clear?” The last three words are threatening, menacingly low.
He nods feebly. I look in both disgust and shame at the pathetic being hunched before me. Fuck! I really don’t want to feel pity for this sorry excuse of a man. So I walk away.
Jackson follows. He looks like he would quite enjoy beating the shit out of Blake some more, but I’m done.
“You went easy on him,” Jackson says as I order a double scotch at the bar and buy him a beer.
“Yeah well, I figured killing him would just make me a shitty fucking person, just like him. Karma has already taken care of his ass by the looks of things. I don’t need to intervene. Unless he screws with Emily or Sadie. Then I’ll make good on that promise to disembowel him.” I say, still amped with residual fury.
“Why was he stealing cash from here?” Jackson asks.
“Probably has none left,” I say. “Man, let’s not talk about Blake anymore. All I want to do is forget all about him and get on with my life.”
“So, date five,” Jackson says with a grin as we sit down. “When does the plan begin?”
“As soon as possible,” I say with a laugh. “This chastity thing is driving me fucking insane!”
Chapter 29:
Emily
Date two was even more amazing than date one. Tyler had the whole theatre we went to last year shut down, just for us. The cast put on a special performance of Romeo and Juliet, a tale of a beautician and a photographer. I laughed out loud when I saw the busty blonde who was playing Juliet, AKA me. I wonder, as I stare at the sign when we leave, why Tyler insisted they include the words TE Amo in the play. I forget to ask as we climb on a horse-driven carriage, which takes us on a tour of the city.
“This is amazing,” I say, as we pass by Central Park, illuminated by fairy lights high in the row of trees that flank it. “You don’t have to do this for every date. I’m happy just spending time with you. Like we used to.”
“Is the horse too much?” Tyler quips, feigning horror. “I swear, as soon as we get back to the apartment I will fire him instantly!”
“No, I like him,” I laugh. “But I just want you to understand that it’s the simple things that matter.”
“It is simple,” Tyler says, staring at me innocently. “You’re simply worth all of this.” He gestures at the horse and the cityscape around us. “You know I don’t flaunt my money, but I’d buy you the moon if you wanted it. All you have to do is ask.”
“There is absolutely no point in asking you to stop spoiling me, is there?” I say with a sigh.
“None whatsoever! So stop trying,” Tyler says, yanking me playfully into the crook of his arm. “However, if you decided to repay me in kind, I wouldn’t argue.”
“So this is just a ploy to get into my pants?” I laugh, slapping his chest.
“Shit! You really weren’t supposed to figure that out,” he teases. “But, you’re forgetting the fact that I’ve already been in your pants. And I must say, what lovely pants they are.”
I roll my eyes and lean up, kissing him softly. “You’re infuriating,” I say with a smile.
“Hold onto that anger, baby. Soon, you’ll have more than enough opportunities to unleash it,” he says lowly. My body burns in anticipation.
The sheer amount of romance in my life has me practically flying. Tyler comes by the apartment every day to see Sadie. I ask him continuously if he wants to take her for a day alone, and he looks at me both horrified and scared shitless each time. His standard response is, “What if I drop her?” I laughed, but agreed that maybe he needed more time to acclimate to his new role as her father.
Date three was more spectacular still. Tyler took me to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where he had a small marquee canopy erected with a simple picnic underneath. We ate Italian bread with Swiss cheese and French macaroons, and drank hot chocolate when the chill set in. I’m amazed at how he has managed to take the small amount of time we spent together and expand it into so many breathtaking new experiences. I must admit that New York City is beautiful from this vantage point at night. The neon lights from the tall buildings make for a brilliant backdrop to the enormous Brooklyn Bridge right before us. Date three was amazing, but when he drops me at home, I storm in the house and flop down on the couch.
Mac looks up from his chick flick and gives me a curious stare. “What the hell happened?” he asks. “And don’t slam the door, you’ll wake Sadie!”
“Nothing!” I say, frustrated.
“Frowning and scrunching your brow like that will age you prematurely,” Mac says. “If nothing happened, why are you so clearly irritated?”
“Nothing happened Mac, as in, nothing. Besides sweetly tender kisses, hand holding, and huge amounts of platonic affection, and rounding first base! Tyler has been back for three and a half weeks. And every week, once a week, he dangles a carrot in my face!”
“A carrot? I had pictured him as more of a large, German sausage kind of guy,” Mac says, feigning thoughtfulness. I throw a pillow at his head. “So why don’t you make the first move? And wasn’t it you who wanted to wait in the first place?”
“I’m the one who insisted we date. I didn’t know that my vagina would hate me for it. You try spending hours at a time with possibly one of the most romantic people on the planet, alone, with sexual tension surrounding you like air!”
“Patience, young one,” Mac says knowingly.
“Oh my god,” I say in a light bulb moment. “What if he thinks that my vagina is like a war zone after Sadie?”
Mac lets out a ridiculously high-pitched squawk. “Honey, you of all people should know how elastic the skin is!”
“I know, but what if he doesn’t? You hear those stories about people whose partners don’t ever have sex with them again after they give birth.”
“I think you’re overthinking this.” Mac says, rolling his eyes. “Just go with it.”
“Fine!” I say storming to my room, stopping only briefly to give Sadie a soft kiss on her forehead, as she lays sleeping in her bassinet next to Mac.
“Where are you going?” Mac calls.
“Well, if I can’t have the real thing, then the mechanical version and mental images of Tyler will have to do!” I say, shutting my door.
The next day, Sunday, Mac leaves early to run an errand. Janie doesn’t come to the shop at all to prep it for Monday. Maia’s phone goes to voicemail. As does Jackson
’s, and then Eliza’s. And today, I desperately needed a distraction from the indecent things I keep doing to Tyler in my mind. Eventually, Sadie and I put on some proper clothes and take a walk through the city streets. Steering her stroller through the crowded New York City streets is usually a task I dread. Today I welcome the distraction, though. I pass by huge, lavish department stores, smaller boutique and designer stores, and countless little knick-knack stores. Walking past a boutique jeweler, a familiar frame catches my eye.
My heart stops when I realize that it’s Tyler. But he’s not alone. Next to him is a long legged brunette with chic designer reading glasses and long, curly, almost black hair. Her and Tyler stare intently at something the jeweler is showing them. The woman carries an expensive-looking business bag come satchel. Suddenly I’m back in the tattoo shop, staring at Blake and Aria. Tears fill my eyes. I steer Sadie’s stroller back towards the beauty salon. For each step I take further away from him, a tear falls from my eyes.
Mac is back at the apartment when I arrive back, and hurriedly shoves the items he’s examining into a small shopping bag. He takes one look at me and comes rushing over.
“What happened?”
“We took a walk, and I saw Tyler. He told me he was working on stuff for his new photography business today. Then I saw him at a jeweler with some girl,” I sob.
Sadie cries loudly in her stroller, obviously as distraught by today’s events as I am. I pick her up and rock her gently. “I’m sure it wasn’t what you’re thinking,” Mac says.
“Then what was it?” I reply. “I’ve never seen that girl before. Who takes a girl into a jewelry store for no reason after lying to his girlfriend?”
“First of all,” Mac says. “He said he was working on his business today. He never said all day. Second of all, this is Tyler, not Blake. If you’re gonna start comparing the two already, you may as well spare him the heartache. And yourself.”
“Whose side are you on, Mac?” I say with offense.
“Yours, but I will also bet my balls on the fact that Tyler is not screwing around on you. And in the spirit of honesty, why don’t you ask him? On your date next week. What is this, date four?”
“And sound like a pathetic, jealous idiot? This would explain why we haven’t had sex yet.”
Mac rolls his eyes and walks towards the kitchen.
“Where are you going? I have a crisis here!” I yell after him.
“Call me when you stop acting a fool,” Mac yells back.
Tyler comes to see Sadie every day the next week, as usual. On Friday, he actually feels comfortable enough to take her to Central Park alone. It’s a proud moment for me. And he looks so frightened. It’s endearing. I still haven’t worked up the courage to ask him about the girl and the jeweler yet.
Mac’s right. If I trust my gut, it tells me that Tyler is unequivocally faithful to me. In other news, all my friends seem to have gotten extremely busy all of a sudden. Maia calls to say she can’t make it for our lunch date. Mac seems to be amassing a large amount of make-up and costume jewelry, ducking out of the salon every five minutes on ‘errands.’ Even Eliza hasn’t called me all week.
Saturday evening rolls around, and for tonight, Tyler has asked me to wear something long and elegant. Mac and I go shopping, and I buy a black satin dress that reaches my ankles. The back falls softly into a mermaid’s tail, and the front is studded with iridescent Swarovski crystals.
“It’s too much,” I say to Mac, twirling in the dress in the change room, feeling self-conscious.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, removing my purse from my bag and paying for it at the counter before I can change my mind.
“Do you know the reason for this fancy dress?” I ask, as we walk back to the salon. “Everyone seems to know something about something recently, except me. Or at least it feels that way.”
“I know nothing,” Mac replies, deliberately avoiding my pointed stare.
Tyler arrives early this time, just as I finish pinning my hair into an elegantly braided French twist. He hands me a corsage. “That is so cheesy!” I laugh. “And very cute.”
“I knew you’d say that,” he laughs. I take him in. He looks resplendent in a perfectly fitted, gun metal grey suit with a lighter grey dress shirt and a straight, thin black tie. “We match,” he says, with a grin, his eyes roaming my body leisurely with approval.
“You need to change, right now. Before we end up becoming one of those middle-aged couples who wears matching polo shirts to the tennis courts,” I tease.
“Not likely,” he quips. “If we are middle-aged with a few hours to spare, we definitely will not be playing tennis.” He leans in and kisses me tenderly, allowing his lips to linger over mine, his breath warm against my skin. I close my eyes as I mentally capture the moment.
Tyler rubs his palms over his pants legs for the hundredth time as the town car we’re in ferries us to our destination. The driver takes us to a hotel, which looks vaguely familiar. “What’s the matter?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says simply as we exit the car. The hotel staff opens the doors to the ballroom. We bypass the room itself, and take the fire escape up to the roof. I take in the sight before me in awe. In the very center of the rooftop is a single, lonely table, dressed in a crisp white tablecloth. Its only company is a champagne bucket on a stand next to it. The space is illuminated by the lights of the big city and small tea light candles, placed along the floor lining each wall.
“Mac mentioned you never went to your senior prom. So I readjusted date four slightly.” Tyler says. Quietly, I look up to see a monstrous disco ball turning above us, suspended by a rope and pulley-looking thing.
“Tyler,” I say, tears filling my eyes. I turn to face him. “Every time I think I can’t be more amazed by you, I am.” He leans down and kisses me softly, deeply. My body livens under the touch of his lips. Soft, slow music fills my ears as Tyler reluctantly removes his lips from mine and leads me to the table by my hand.
“What’s on the menu?” I ask, sitting down as he pulls out the chair for me.
“Guess,” he grins.
I know it has to be something sentimental. Tyler is sentimental. I search the recesses of my mind to think of what else we could have eaten together. Just as I’m about to admit that I have no clue, a penguinesque waiter walks over with the entrée.
“Chinese chicken noodle soup,” he says, placing the dishes before us. I can’t help but laugh out loud. The waiter shoots me a disapproving glare.
“I insisted the chef use only the same ingredients you did. Although, to recreate the experience to my standards, I am going to need you to remove that dress and put this on,” he says throwing me a white t-shirt from under the table.
“Funny!” I laugh.
“Who said I was joking,” he says with a straight face. He even frowns melodramatically when I throw it back.
The main course is served. New York style hot dogs, smothered in ketchup, mustard, and chili, just how I like them.
“For the record,” Tyler says. “The chef asked me to tell you that the combination of those three sauces is not a food marriage made in heaven.”
“The chef does not have awesome taste buds,” I reply sarcastically, taking a huge bite of the hot dog for good measure. I take extra care eating the hot dog slowly, devouring it, owing to its phallic appearance. I hope I’m making my point clear. Tyler can’t steal his eyes away from my mouth. And as I finish my hot dog, I notice that his is still on his plate, untouched.
“Not hungry?” I tease.
“Distracted,” he says cheekily. The sexual innuendo is high on my agenda. Every word that leaves both my and Tyler’s mouths for the rest of the evening can be twisted to allude to us fucking like animals. The sexual tension is stifling, even though we’re on the roof in the open air.
“Shouldn’t we be dancing? It is my senior prom after all,” I say with a smile.
“Not yet. First I think we should talk,” he says.
“Hey, I was pretending to be serious. You look like you are.” His brow furrows in concern.
“I am,” I say. “Last week, Sadie and I went for a walk. I saw you at a jeweler, with this gorgeous girl, and Mac said to stop overthinking it, but I don’t know what to think of it. And I was afraid to ask because, well, just because. But now I have to, and now I am!” My speech had started out metered and calm, but then quickly turned into a bout of verbal diarrhea and incessant rambling.
“Emily, that was Mary. She’s my PA. I had errands to run, so she tagged along and took notes while I ran them.”
“Why didn’t you mention her to me? And why is she so hot?”
“She’s been in Texas with her family since we got back because I didn’t need her. And she’s attractive because God made her that way. She also has a diploma in event management, is a PA with a number of years experience, and she has degrees in both business management and accounting. She’s starting her own consultancy firm as well, so working for me suits her fine. It’s not a full time gig.”
“She sounds perfect,” I say, feeling more than a little jealous.
“I hired her because of her resume, not her face. Mary is a good PA, nothing more,” Tyler says firmly. “I love you. Why in the hell would I need anybody else? I’m not my brother,” Tyler finishes, looking down.
“I know. But why were you at a jeweler?” I ask.
“For this,” he says, pulling a small, teal velvet box from his inside jacket pocket. My heart leaps and gets stuck right in my throat. “You actually gave me the perfect lead-in with your question,” he says with a shy smile.
Tyler opens the box and inside is a ring. A platinum ring, with a perfect, yellow solitaire diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds. The lights surrounding us bounce off the stone and the effect is positively blinding. Not that I can see anything, my eyes are completely filled with unshed tears.
Scared of Forever (Scared #2) Page 18