Matt opens the door for me and helps me into the car. As soon as he closes the door behind me, I let the tears I was holding back go. They slip from my eyes and down my cheeks with ease. I’m so ashamed, so heartbroken. I wish things could be different.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Matt tries to soothe me when he gets into the car, but that just makes me cry more. It’s not going to be okay. Nothing is okay. Everything is hopelessly broken, and there is nothing I can do to make things right again. The Bishops are no longer mine, and that realization hurts more than I ever thought it would.
“I’m guessing Banks is the one you love?”
All I can do right now is nod. I do love Banks… and Oliver and Sullivan. God, this is bad, so bad. My heart is breaking, shattering into a million pieces, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. “I love all three of them.”
“What do you mean all three? Like… you were with all three of the Bishops?” I don’t miss the condescending tone in his voice at my confession, but I still stand by my statement. I might not ever be theirs again, or them mine, but I will freely admit my feelings for them.
“Yes… I was… well, still am, in love with them.”
Matt’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, “Well, hopefully, you can move on because no wife of mine will be seen with a Bishop. I won’t allow it, Harlow.” There’s a finality to his words, and I know I can’t screw this up. If I’m going to protect them, then I’ll need to do everything I can do to make sure things with Matt work out.
29
It’s the day of the rehearsal dinner, and the house is buzzing with excitement. Excitement that I don’t share. It seems as though I’m the only person unhappy about this wedding. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to come to grips with what my parents have done. They’ve taken me out of school, threatened the only people I’ve ever loved, and then forced me into a situation where there is no escaping. It’s like I’m sinking in quicksand, and the more I struggle, the faster I sink. There is no plan B, no fix for this situation.
It takes me forever to get dressed, and even longer to do my hair and make-up. My mother pops her head into the room just as I’m zipping up the lavender-colored V-neck mini-dress that she picked out for me. It’s shorter than I would like, but it’s very pretty.
“Gorgeous. The lavender really brings out the color of your eyes.”
“Thanks,” I somehow manage to say. Directing my attention to the mirror in front of me, I stare at my reflection for a few long seconds. I don’t recognize the girl looking back at me. She’s weak and missing a backbone, but I’m not sure how to help her, how to make her stronger, without putting those I care about in danger.
“Are you ready, sweetie? We’re all waiting for you.”
“I’m ready,” I say, my voice somber.
Together with my mother, I walk out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and to the grand staircase. As we descend the stairs, my mother leans into me. She’s smiling at Matt, his father, and my father, who are waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“Do not do anything to mess this up; otherwise, you know what will happen.” The warning is clear, and I wish so badly that I didn’t have to play by their rules. My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together at the effort it takes me to keep my mouth shut. I want to tell her off, but what’s the point? It won’t change what’s going to happen.
When we reach the bottom of the steps, my jaw is aching, and my stomach is twisted in knots. Matt reaches for me, and I place my hand in his, the heat of his touch radiating through me. I wish I could hate Matt, but I don’t. As bad as all of this is, he’s been the only person to show me even a tiny bit of compassion.
“We will meet you at the church.” My father’s authoritative voice rains down on me like acid. I ignore him completely, uncaring to what he has to say at this point.
“Are you okay?” Matt whispers into the shell of my ear as we walk out the front door, and toward the car that’s waiting for us.
“Yes,” I lie. I’m not okay, not even close, but complaining about it won’t change anything.
“Good, you look beautiful tonight, and even more beautiful with that engagement ring on your finger. I can’t wait to show you off to the world as my wife,” Matt teases, a hint of flirtation to his words, but I don’t have it in me to even make an effort to flirt back.
“I’m sorry, this is just… it’s hard for me,” I say as he helps me into the car.
He climbs in behind me and places his hand against my bare thigh. I drop my gaze to where he’s touching me. It seems wrong, like he’s taunting me with his touch or something. I can’t want Matt, not when my heart belongs to another.
“We’re going to be married tomorrow, and though our love isn’t real, we have to pretend to an entire room of people today and tomorrow that it is.”
He’s right, but I just don’t care. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I just want to get married and escape the tower my parents have locked me up in.
As if he can sense my uncaring attitude his lips press into a hard line, making him appear almost angry. Great, I’ve just pissed my soon to be husband off, the only person that seems to care about my wants. Maybe I should be a little nicer to him… more grateful that he is not a total jerk to me, because truthfully if he were, there would be nothing I could do. I would still marry him to protect the Bishops. I would do anything to ensure their well-being.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I really am. I wish things were different.”
“Yeah, me too…” He says with a shake of his head as he turns and directs his attention out the window, like the passing trees are better company than me or something.
The rest of the drive is uneventful, as is the rehearsal. Shelby is there too, as my maid of honor, and even though her presence gives me comfort, it is not enough to make me feel anything else besides dreadful.
We run through the events that will take place for the day tomorrow, and it takes everything inside me to follow through with every step, and every word. Matt doesn’t skip a beat, and even smiles at me a few times, but in his eyes, beneath the fake façade, I can see anger brewing.
And slowly, the realization starts to sink in…
Am I really going to marry him tomorrow?
Before it was always, yeah, I’m going to do this, but now it’s really happening. In just twenty-four hours I am going to be married to a man I don’t love.
As always, Matt is attentive and caring, though his eyes say otherwise, and by the time we make it to the dinner party my parents have put together for us, I’m feeling a little less nauseated. My mother is beaming, she’s over the moon as we enter the reception area that’s filled with members of both sides of our families.
Many faces are unfamiliar to me, so I keep my eyes down and let Matt guide me around the room. He introduces me to nearly everyone he knows, as I fake a smile and pretend like I care what they have to say to me.
Pretending is exhausting, and I find myself reaching for a flute of wine without even thinking. The cold bubbly liquid slips past my dry lips and into my cotton filled mouth, soothing the dryness there. I down the contents of the entire thing, and reach for another, sipping the second glass, rather than downing it too.
I hate this place. I hate my father. I hate that I’m being forced to do something that I don’t want to do. I just want to run away and forget about everything.
“Would it hurt you to smile a little?” my mother growls as she passes by me.
Would it hurt you to care a little? I want to say but don’t.
We eat a light dinner, and Matt converses with his father, and a few of the other businessmen. I do my best to block out most of the conversation and just stand there like a statue, letting him hold my hand, and show me off, like I’m some rare jewel.
“Here, have another,” Shelby walks up to me, whispering in my ear as she hands me a flute. “You look like you could use it.”
“Thank you,” I say, and for the first time tonight
a ghost of a smile that isn’t forced, plays on my lips. I’m so glad Shelby is here, my one friend who has always stood by me. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for being my friend. You’ve been there for me through everything.”
“Don’t mention it,” Shelby waves me off and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “That’s what friends are for.”
We talk some more before Shelby excuses herself and leaves. I wish I could have left with her, but since it’s my party and all, I guess people expect me to stay.
Time passes by slowly, and I watch as Matt orders drink after drink. It seems like I’m not the only one trying to drown my sorrows. The difference is, I stopped after the third flute of champagne, even though I want to drink more. I didn’t like how the alcohol clouded my mind, so I forced myself to stop.
As the evening goes on, Matt becomes more and more intoxicated, but his hand stays wrapped around mine, keeping me close to his side. It’s not ideal, but if I’m being honest, it’s better than walking around on my own. At least this way, I have Matt to act as a buffer between my parents and me, and anyone else I don’t want to talk to.
After a short time, my bladder starts to protest, the champagne running through me faster than I anticipated. Pulling my hand out of Matt’s I excuse myself to the bathroom. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, burning through the fabric of my dress and embedding into my skin.
When I make it to the bathroom and into the stall, I all but sag against the wall. Tears sting my eyes. I want to cry so badly, to let all the things I’m feeling out, but I can’t. I have to hold it together. I have to be strong. The instant I show weakness my mother and father will pounce.
Swallowing down the tears, and pain, I use the toilet, flush, and wash my hands. Exiting the bathroom, I keep my eyes trained on the floor. Failing to notice the person walking toward me, I run head-on into them.
“I’m so sorry…” I apologize and lift my gaze hoping, it’s not one of my parents’ friends. My eyes take in the expensive black suit and then the handsome face attached to it, it’s an extremely drunk, Matt.
“Sorry enough to give me a kiss?” he slurs, his eyes are bloodshot and glassed over, I didn’t realize he was this drunk before I left. Licking my lips, I’m ready to tell him no when he reaches forward and gently pushes me back against the wall.
Worry gnaws at my insides, but a tiny part of me knows that Matt isn’t a bad guy. He wouldn’t really hurt me.
“I don’t want to kiss you,” I tell him as he leans forward, blowing hot breath against my lips. He smells like a distillery and my nose wrinkles at the odor.
“Of course, you don’t. Why would you want to kiss your future husband? Why would you want to show even an ounce of affection?” Bitter laughter slips past his lips and into the space between us. I try to shrug off his hold, but his fingers dig deeper into my skin, holding me in place. Pain radiates down my arms from where he’s holding me, and I can’t stop the whimper that passes my lips.
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper, hoping the words will break through his foggy mind, but they don’t, in fact, they do the opposite. Without warning, his lips descend on mine, crashing against my lips with a fierceness that terrifies me.
There is no escaping him, his lips, his hands, they hold me in place. My lungs burn as I forget to breathe and instead, start to struggle against his hold, pressing my palms against his chest in an effort to put space between us.
My efforts are pointless, and instead of moving away, he steps closer, his chest pressing against mine. Deepening the kiss, his tongue enters my mouth without permission. Angry fire blooms inside of me, and somehow, I find the strength to fight back. I nip at his tongue hard, and instantly, he pulls away, taking a staggering step backward.
Shock paints his features before rage overtakes them, and I’m left cowering and shaking, like a puppy left out in the middle of winter.
Maybe I shouldn’t have bitten him? It was just a kiss, and he is my soon to be husband, after all. But the words feel wrong, all of this feels wrong. I said I didn’t want it. Tears start to fall without warning, staining my perfectly painted cheeks.
“Don’t be such a cry baby, it was only a kiss.
“I said I didn’t want to kiss you.”
“You expect us to be married and never kiss? You can’t be that naive.”
“If I change my mind about wanting to kiss, you’ll be the first one to know.”
“Whatever. We will still be married tomorrow, and you will be my wife. You’ll have to sleep with me eventually. I might not be a Bishop, but you’ll come to love my cock as much as you loved theirs…” His face twists into a cruel smile. The kind man I had met not long ago, has become someone I don’t know, and without even thinking about it, I cross the space between us, pull my hand back and land a hard slap against his cheek.
My skin burns at the contact against his, but I don’t care. I don’t care what happens next. All I know is that he will not talk about me like that. I won’t allow him to belittle what we had.
“You don’t know them, and you don’t know me,” I sneer, finding the strength to speak up for myself. I’m tired of being a doormat. “I might marry you on paper, but that doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you. Especially not when you act like an asshole, like you are now.”
Matt’s jaw clenches, and his once soft eyes darken. He takes a threatening step toward me, with his hand raised, and I wonder briefly if he’s going to hit me? Before he gets a chance to do whatever it is he planned to do, one of my father’s guards appears.
“Your father has asked for your presence… alone,” Bert says softly, his eyes taking in the situation before him.
Releasing an anxious breath, I say, “Of course, where would he like me to meet him.”
“Outside, in the garden,” he says, and I make a move to follow the guard.
“Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow, wife.” I shudder at the tone of Matt’s words but nod in agreement. How am I going to do this? Marry a man that forces himself on me? Before tonight, I thought I could do this, but now, not so much. Matt is just as ruthless and scary as my father. His true colors finally coming to light.
Matt disappears down the hall, anger rippling from every pore on his body. I sag against the brick wall once he’s out of sight, relief flooding my veins. How did I end up here? There aren’t enough tears in the world. I’m exhausted, tired of crying, of pretending, of faking.
“Come with me, please,” Bert interrupts my thoughts, and a moment later starts down the hall without even looking to see if I follow. It takes a second, but I get my legs to work and follow behind him cautiously, unsure of where he may be taking me.
He did, after all, kidnap me once before.
“Thanks…” I almost say Bert, but I know that’s not his name.
“Milton,” he introduces himself, making me feel stupid. I really should have made an effort to remember his real name.
“Thank you, Milton.”
We walk down the hall, and then another until we reach a pair of French doors. Bert opens them and leads me outside. The night air is cool against my bare skin and goosebumps ripple across my arms.
“Where is my father?” I question, crossing my arms over my chest. Bert doesn’t respond and instead turns to head back inside. Fear trickles down my spine, worry consuming me, and then I see him.
Sullivan. It can’t be. This has to be a dream. All of my previous feelings fade away, and I race toward him, wrapping my arms around his middle, and burying my nose into his shirt, inhaling his familiar scent into my nostrils. A soft chuckle escapes his lips, and I peer up at him through my hair.
“Banks was so sure you had moved on, but you wouldn’t be hugging me like this if that’s true.” His arms wrap around me as well, tightening almost as if he’s trying to embed me into his chest. I can hear him inhaling my scent, my body melting into a pile of mush at his feet.
And then I realize… Shit. I just gave myself away.
“I�
�.” Is there any point in trying to hide it anymore?
“It’s okay, I know. We knew all along that it was an act. Whatever you’re trying to protect us from, that shit ends now.”
Pulling away so I can look up at him, I ask, “How did you get here? How did you know I was even here?”
Sullivan smiles, and I swear my core clenches a hundred times over. I miss that smile, his touch, his scent. I miss him and his brothers, and the way they make me feel, so cherished, so loved. I just miss them, so damn much. I have so many more questions I want to ask him, but all those things fall away now that I’m in his arms. Without breaking our hug, he walks me down the stairs and into the garden. There is a tiny maze, and we hide behind one of the ivy-covered walls. This way, we remain hidden from any wandering eyes.
As soon as we’re hidden, Sullivan pulls away, his hold on me loosens, and his fingers trail up my skin, stopping once they reach my cheeks where he cradles them. “I’ve got connections, people helping me. Now I need you to tell me what’s going on? I don’t know how much time we have, and I need to know everything. Don’t lie to me or spare me any of the details. We’re going to get you out of this.”
“No, you can’t.” I gasp, crippling fear overtaking me. “My father will hurt you; he’ll destroy you and your brothers. He won’t stop at framing you this time. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.” I cry, realizing a moment too late that I’ve given him all the information he needs.
Tears start to fall from my eyes again, and Sullivan wipes each of them away with his thumb, his sea-blue eyes bore into mine, as he does. He looks conflicted, like he might want to kiss me but also throttle me at the same time.
“Fuck, Harlow, don’t cry,” he pleads with me, and the ache in his voice only makes me cry harder.
“I can’t help it. I don’t want to do this. I want to be with you guys, but there is nothing I can do, and I won’t let him hurt you any more than he has.” By now I’m sobbing, my make-up is completely ruined, and I look like a mess, I’m sure of it, but I don’t care, not when I’m in Sullivan’s arms.
The Bayshore Rivals: The Entier Series Page 28