Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I wish it didn’t feel like a boulder dragging me down.
Can anyone else see how unhappy I am? Do they notice my empty smile? I suppose it’s easier walking through life with blinders on, pretending everything is okay.
Mom shifts closer and nudges me with her elbow. “Find Jackson, we need to start soon.”
I sigh and roll my neck, giving her my best sure thing smile.
I’m still searching the ballroom for my fiancé when the ballroom almost sighs. What the hell was that? I glance around and follow everyone’s wide-eyed stare to the stairs. Most people are gaping outright, and I know I am too. Mom cuts through the crowd to my elbow.
“What is he doing here?” Mom whispers in a shaky voice, like she’s on the verge of tears.
One glimpse at him and every nerve ending in my body fires at once. I want to hate him after everything he’s done to me. After every cruel word. But it’s not that easy. Not when he makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt.
I close my eyes, thinking maybe it’s a dream. He can’t really be here, right? Don’t be stupid, Allie. He warned you he was coming.
How did he even get in? I’m sure it didn’t take much effort. The Bishops could own this club if they wanted it. They just never seem to have an interest. They prefer to lord over Black Hollow Creek’s higher-ups in other ways.
As I stare at him, a calmness washes over me, and it’s terrifying because it tells me that I want him here. Somehow, he’s the last little bit of the real me. The only one besides Saint who knows me, not the girl who has to pretend for her mother, or her fiancé, but me. With him here, I feel a little less alone.
Even if I know he’s about to ruin everything.
He looks completely fucking devastating in a tux. I guess I expected him to walk in wearing dirt-smeared jeans and boots he’d have to scrape clean. But no, he’s perfect. He moves slowly down the stairs, ignoring the whispers and murmurs that get a little louder with each step. He’s too busy staring through me, making every nerve in my body tingle. I don’t realize until dizziness swamps me that I’ve stopped breathing.
He’s smirking by the time he reaches us and extends a hand to Mom.
“Good evening.” He’s so damn smooth, and it’s obvious he’s enjoying the hell out of making her squirm.
When he turns his gaze on me, it takes everything in me to stay upright. “You look…”
He doesn’t finish, but the way he has to rearrange his slack-jawed expression makes me stand a little straighter.
I can’t resist the urge to fuck with him, though. “Good enough to hold up the family name, right, Bro?”
His lips twitch like he’s amused. “I won’t take up too much of your time. So many other people are dying to make sure you know they’re here.” He accepts a glass of champagne from a passing server and gulps it down in one go. “Better yet, I think I need something stronger than this.”
Oh no. Kade is one thing, but drunk Kade? The idea freezes my blood. As I’m about to say something, Mom finds her voice. “What exactly are you doing here?”
Kade doesn’t skip a beat. “I assume my invitation got lost in the mail,” he explains with a shrug. “As a family member, I know you couldn’t have meant to exclude me, right?”
My heart hammers against my ribs, and I’m so anxious right now I think I might puke. My mother opens her mouth to speak, but Kade isn’t interested in continuing the conversation. With nothing more than a smile, he turns and heads off toward the bar.
“Ignore him,” she orders in a fierce whisper. “Pretend he isn’t here. Focus on Jackson.”
She wouldn’t understand, not even if I told her the truth. There is no way to forget Kade’s existence. To do so would be like telling myself to stop living. Instead of responding, I do the same as before and paste a smile onto my face.
Music fills the air, lightening the mood and cutting some of the tension. It doesn’t take long for couples to meander out onto the dance floor. On the surface, this looks like a success. Exactly what Mom wanted, but deep in my gut, it feels more like a setup.
I can’t stop myself from glancing toward the bar. Kade stands against the rail unbothered by the looks that pass over him. The bartender pours him a whiskey, which he downs like a shot before asking for another. This isn’t The Rusty fucking Nail with its swill.
What is he doing?
“It’s time. There’s Jackson.” Mom nudges me with her elbow, nodding across the room. “Go on. I want you two to be seen together before I go up, so things don’t appear so out of the blue.” I’m like a pawn on a board, moved around without anyone caring what I want.