I turned for a second to make sure Sam was out of it. It was only a moment, a flash, but in a fight that was all it took. The guard I’d been punching pulled out a metal police baton. I only got a glimpse of it whizzing toward my skull before it cracked me in the temple and I was out.
I woke up on my back staring at an off-white ceiling. Without moving, I took stock of the situation. My head hurt like a bitch, beating with a steady pulse as blood barged through protesting veins. My temple ached from where the baton had caught me. My upper lip felt heavy. Swollen. Otherwise, my injuries were minimal, just a steady ache in my bones and my fists that reminded me I wasn’t quiet as young as I used to be.
I already knew, as I lay there motionless, that the real damage wouldn’t be physical. The rehearsal dinner was completely ruined, the same probably for the bachelor and bachelorette parties later. I couldn’t imagine anyone would be up for strippers and booze after what had just happened.
I sat up as a thought occurred to me: Were the others okay? The last thing I’d seen was the five other Knights duking it out with Lorne’s posse of muscle-bound bodyguards. How long had the fight gone on? Were there worse injuries than a swollen lip and a possible (probable) concussion?
I stood shakily and worked out the kink in my neck. I was in my own suite, on the couch in the living room. I went to the sink, poured and drank a glass of water, then refilled it and drank that one too.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror beside the table. I was still wearing the slacks and dark green dress shirt I’d worn to the dinner. There was a bit of dried blood on the collar but otherwise it was still acceptable. My hair was sticking up in all directions, and, sure enough, my upper lip was red and angry looking. I’d put ice on it later. For now, I splashed some water across my face and on my hair, smoothing it down.
That’d have to do. Now to find my friends and make sure everyone was okay.
And deal with the consequences of my actions. Or, it seemed in this case, lack of action. Of course the one time I didn’t fuck the girl was the one that brought the whole world crashing down.
I didn’t have to go far. I was walking toward the door when a card swiped on the other side and it pushed open.
Alice, I hoped, even though I knew our coming confrontation was going to be nothing good.
But no, it was Sam. And from the look on his face, this conversation wasn’t going to be any better.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Mac?” he demanded immediately. He’d changed into another suit and I winced when I saw his eye. It was a sickly shade of yellow. That was going to look fantastic in the wedding pictures.
“I didn’t—”
“I don’t care!” His voice rose to a bellow, and we stared at each other in silence, eyes locked in anger. Was he not even going to give me the chance to explain myself?
Then Sam’s broad shoulders sank and he sighed heavily, shaking his head. He walked to a chair and collapsed into it.
“I put a lot of faith in you,” he said finally. His voice was tired. “I told Beck you weren’t going to be a problem.”
“I didn’t sleep with Margot,” I said firmly.
“What about Mariana?” he asked, looking up to meet my eye. “In an unlocked bathroom?”
Damn you, Alice. I couldn’t meet his eye. “It was a mistake.”
“And what about Tuzas? Did you really try to hustle pool against a gang? With Alice as your backup?”
“I didn’t try to hustle. I got forced into it,” I said, cringing at how lame it sounded. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Sam’s mouth formed a line. “So it is true. Twain denied that he rescued you adamantly.”
“So Alice…”
“Yeah, Alice is pissed. And she also told me that you’ve been sniffing around Margot Lorne all week.”
My heart ached at the betrayal. She’d told him everything, and yet also not enough. “I didn’t know. Once I found out she was married, and who exactly to, I broke it off. Told her to get lost.” I sat next to Sam and my words came out desperately. “You have to believe me, Sam. She’s just saying that to get me in trouble.”
Sam looked away. “It doesn’t matter, Mac,” he said.
“It does to me.”
“But it doesn’t change anything!” He stood up and paced the room, finally stopping in front of me. “I just barely convinced Lorne not to kick the entire wedding out of the resort. Forget how pissed my business contacts would be flying back to New York after half a day in Mexico, but my wedding, Mac! Beck has been looking forward to this for so long and you almost took it away from her. I… I can’t forgive that.”
This was what low felt like. I wanted to look at the floor, but I couldn’t break his stare. “What are you saying?” I asked.
“You have to leave,” he said. “Pack your things. Henry said you can take his plane.”
I stood. “You’re kicking me out of your wedding?”
“That was the deal. Lorne said we could stay as long as you got out. But honestly, Mac. Even if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t want you there anyway. You’ve never even pretended to be happy for me. You very obviously don’t want to be here anyway. So there. Here’s your excuse.”
He turned away and headed for the door.
“Sam…” I started, walking after him.
“Mac. Stop.” He shook his head and looked back at me. His eyes were tired, not angry. Just exhausted from being my friend. “Have a good flight.”
Then he left me alone again.
I sank back onto the couch, my head pounding. All week I’d wanted to be anywhere but here. Be careful what you wish for. That look in Sam’s eyes as he talked to me… I shook my head, went and drank another glass of water. I clenched the empty glass in my hand until it shook with tension.
Then I threw it against the wall. It exploded with a crash, and I fought the urge to rub my foot in the shards, just to hurt something, even if it was myself.
Fuck Sam. He wouldn’t even hear my side of the story. He wanted me gone? Then I’d go. I went to my room and started shoving things into my suitcase. I’d packed light; it didn’t take long.
The entire time I cursed Sam and Beck and weddings and Sammy Dedric and Alice. Alice. She said she wouldn’t tell. But what the hell did I expect? She was just another girl. Just one more lay to forget the next day. I was a fool to think anything otherwise. This goddamn wedding was infecting my brain. Sam did me a favor. I needed to get the hell out of here before I no longer recognized myself.
I left my suitcases for the attendants to bring down and hefted my carry-on over my shoulder. Yeah, fuck all of them. I was going home.
I pushed my door open and strode into the hall. My heart seized when I saw her waiting for me.
Alice’s arms were crossed. She was still in the light blue shift. Her hair still fell loose down her back. She was still beautiful, even in the artificial light of the hallway. But her brown eyes were dead, hard as they stared at me.
I pushed down that weakness, any longing that I hadn’t been able to extinguish in the room, and hardened my own.
“You told him everything,” I said flatly.
“I should have from the beginning,” she countered. “How could you—”
“I didn’t!” I insisted. “I said I wouldn’t and I didn’t. She’s lying.”
Alice paused, her mouth half open. There was a struggle behind her eyes. She wanted to believe me, I could tell. Please believe me.
But then her mouth snapped shut, her eyes turned back to steel. “If I see you around New York,” she said, “don’t bother saying hi.”
Then she brushed past me and stalked down the hall to her own room.
I watched her go until she disappeared behind the door. The prophecy had come true. I was alone. And maybe this was the way it was supposed to be.
I re-shouldered my bag and started toward the elevator, each step echoing back to my trek out of Dublin so long ago.
22
A
lice
I angrily wiped tears from the corners of my eyes as I closed the door behind me. I stood for a moment in the dark entryway, blocked from the living room by a wall. On the other side, I could hear the quiet murmurs of the rest of the wedding party. All I wanted to do was go to my room and cry and then maybe break some things, but that would have to wait for later.
I took a deep breath, collected myself, pushed that final image of Mac from my mind, and rounded the corner.
Everyone waited in the living room. Kylie and Sarah sat on the couch, both looking at the floor, lost in thought. Mason leaned against the wall, back to me, looking out the window into the darkness and holding a bag of ice to his busted nose. Henry sat at the kitchen table, on his phone as usual, but even he looked miserable, his cut hands wrapped in bandages. Keegan and Jules sat on the loveseat. Keegan’s face mirrored those of the other Knights, etched with worry, his bruises darkening. Jules, meanwhile, looked annoyed and gave a deep, lingering sigh like there were a thousand things she’d rather be doing than sitting vigil for this disaster of a wedding. Even Twain was there, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling and smoking a cigarette, a bandage wrapped around his head from where he’d cut it falling against the corner of the table.
Only Sam and Beck were absent. Beck was alone in her bedroom. She’d wanted some space after the dinner and none of us pushed her. Sam was out somewhere in the resort, probably further patching things up with Lorne and apologizing to the guests in The Blue Note. The brawl with the bodyguards had taken place in the private room, but there was no hiding the noise or our walk of shame as we left, the guys bleeding and bruised, supporting the unconscious Mac.
It had been a miracle that nobody had gotten more seriously hurt. Sam and Mason were able to stop the violence pretty quickly after Mac got bludgeoned, but the screaming from Lorne went on a while longer. Eventually Sam was able to get him to his office where they’d talked in private while the rest of us came upstairs to patch the guys up.
Once Sam came back he announced Lorne’s condition for letting the wedding continue. Mac had to go. Even after everything, Sam had seemed hesitant to tell him to leave. That was when I’d told him everything, all the little details of Mac’s week that I’d hidden from them so far. I’d hated to go back on what I’d said, but then so had Mac. He’d said he was done with Margot, yet it seemed he couldn’t keep away. Once he’d gotten me, he needed to move on to another girl.
Even though Mac’s betrayal was devastating, I didn’t tell Sam the truth out of spite. I did solely to convince Sam that he was doing the right thing. Because as angry as he was at Mac, it was clear Sam struggled with kicking his friend out of the wedding. But he did it. He had to. And now the wedding would go on.
Then why did I feel so terrible about it?
I sat down next to Kylie and gave her a small smile which she returned. Confliction churned my stomach. Mac said he hadn’t done it, insisted in the hallway. For a moment there, I’d almost believed him. I’d wanted to believe him. But then my heart had hardened and I’d turned away. Mac was just like all the others. He’d told me again and again that he didn’t do relationships. That he hated marriage. That he’d never settle down.
And earlier, before dinner, when he’d said that he’d wished I would have stayed? What was that? More smoke? Saying anything he could to get me back into his bed? Mac was the most confusing, frustrating person I’d ever met. And as mad as I was, I was devastated that I’d never hear that smoky voice again. See that lazy grin over me before he bent down and pressed his lips to mine. It was over.
“Could you put that out?” Jules interrupted the silence, glaring at Twain. Her infatuation with him seemed to have died after the fight in the limo.
Twain didn’t look away from the ceiling. “Yes, I could,” he said.
“Twain…” Keegan started.
“Keegan,” Twain said curtly.
“Stop.” That was Mason and they listened to him, even Jules. He turned away from the window and observed us all with those steely-gray eyes. “Twain,” he said finally. “Come with me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I need help looking for Sam,” Mason said, cutting him off. “Come on.”
Twain didn’t argue. He stood and walked toward the door, flicking ash toward Jules’ foot as he walked by. She started to say something, but Keegan put his hand on her leg.
Mason stopped in front of me. “Go talk to Beck.”
“She wanted to be left alone.”
“Just try again.”
I nodded and he left after Twain. I felt all the eyes in the room follow me as I stood and walked into the hall, toward Beck’s bedroom.
I stopped in front of the closed door and steeled myself. After the initial violence in the restaurant, she’d been very quiet. The moment we’d gotten back to the room, she’d locked herself away, telling everyone to give her space.
It doesn’t hurt to try, I told myself. I knocked softly.
“Beck? It’s Alice. Can I come in?”
Silence.
I knocked again. “Do you need anything? Water? Chocolate? Something to punch?” I joked feebly.
The door opened slightly. Beck stared at me through the crack. I could tell that she’d been crying and all my conflicted emotions toward Mac turned to anger at the sight. How dare he make my best friend cry! And on the eve of what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Beck blocked the door for a moment, but then stepped aside and let me in. I followed her to the bed where she sat down heavily. I sat next to her, not sure what to say.
“I’m so sorry, Beck,” I tried. She didn’t say anything. I went on, just to fill the silence. “I should have told you everything sooner. He should have been gone after the Mariana thing. I feel responsible. I hope—”
Beck sighed, cutting me off. “Could you just stop, Alice,” she said.
I blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?” I asked, confused by her tone. She sounded angry, angry at me. “Mac—”
“I don’t care about Mac!” she said. “I never cared about Mac or anything he was doing.”
“But the wedding—”
“I don’t care about the wedding!”
I jerked back, stunned. Beck stared at me, eyes wide.
“Wait, are you and Sam…?”
She shook her head and stood up, walking to the window and then turning around. “No, of course not. I love Sam and he loves me. We’re good, better than good. And that’s exactly it. Nothing Mac could have done all week would have changed that.”
“But he was trying to destroy the wedding.”
Beck laughed without a hint of humor. “And I don’t give a shit about the wedding. I never have.”
I was at a loss for words. Never cared about the wedding? But what about all the work we did? All the planning, all the guests? I’d poured my heart and soul into this thing and she never cared?
“You don’t mean that,” I said firmly.
Beck shook her head and pressed her hands to her eyes. “Oh my god, Alice. I love you. You’re my best friend. But you’ve been making all of this way too much about yourself.”
I jerked like I’d been slapped. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, standing too. “I was doing this for you!”
“Were you?” Beck asked. “Because maybe if you were, you might have noticed that I wanted you by my side all week. This trip was supposed to be about spending time together. Our friends, as a group. And you’ve been off chasing Mac around for half the trip! I needed you here!”
“I was here,” I insisted. “I was here a lot. I’m sorry that I was looking out for your wedding day.” I couldn’t believe that after everything Mac had done, I was the bad guy.
“I never wanted this wedding!” Beck shouted. “I didn’t want to go to the other side of the world. I didn’t want to invite hundreds of people I barely know. I just wanted my friends. And Sam. And a simple ‘I do’ and maybe dinner afterward. T
his is all too much!”
Her voice cracked and tears fell down her cheeks. “Too many people, too much money, too much of a spectacle. I’m not this person, Alice. But I have to be. Because Sam is important and he has money and there were so many expectations from so many people and I wanted to tell you this but you’re so invested in this day! And if I can’t talk to you, I don’t know who else I have.”
My stomach was a hollow pit. This was what low felt like. She was right. Beck had been off all week and it wasn’t just pre-wedding jitters. My friend who’d always thrived on simplicity and functionality was feeling the pressure of marrying a billionaire businessman in a wedding she apparently never wanted but felt obligated to have.
And I was one of the people keeping the pressure on.
My hands dropped limply to my sides and all the outrage dissipated. “I’m so sorry, Beck,” I said. “I had no idea. But you’re right. I’ve been so invested in this wedding to distract myself. And then Mac… God, Beck, I’m sorry.”
She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Alice. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just feeling very overwhelmed.”
I walked over and enveloped my friend in a hug. “Don’t worry about it. I think I needed to hear it. Trust me, I’m going to make this up to you. We’re going to work everything out.”
“I just want to go home,” Beck whispered into my shoulder. “I’m so tired of Mexico. I don’t think I have the energy for tomorrow. All those people…”
“It’s not too late to cancel.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that to Sam. He’s so excited.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Beck?” It was Sam. Apparently it hadn’t taken Mason and Twain long to find him at all.
“That’s him,” she said. She hurriedly wiped her face. “I don’t want him to know I’ve been upset.”
I frowned. Beck’s eyes were watery, red, and streaked with mascara. “Yeah… Beck, listen. You need to talk to Sam. He loves you. You two can work it out.”
The Groomsman: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Billionaires of Club Tempest) Page 21