Between Now and Heartbreak - Dylan Allen Page 0,92
fuck are you doing?” I snatch my hand away and scan the room for Beth. The people at our table are watching with avid interest, But otherwise, the party is going on as usual.
His contemptuous laugh reaches me and I turn to find him texting on his phone. His eyes come to mine and they are filled with triumph.
“You should pick your battles more carefully. This is one you can’t win. I’ll give you some free advice. Next time, pick your pawns. Watch them destroy themselves and then, walk away with all the loot.”
“She’s not loot. This isn’t a game.”
In response, he puts his fingers under his nose, and inhales.
He closes his eyes and smiles.
“I knew I recognized that smell on your fingers. I touched that sweet pussy tonight, too. Fucking nice isn’t it? Almost makes up for that thing on her face.”
I see red.
Anger, the likes of which I’ve never known, overtakes whatever shred of self-preservation was holding back the rage that I know is reckless, and that I know I’ll pay for, in more ways than one.
But, those are the last words he says before I punch him in the nose and break it.
37
FINISHED
BETH
The screams from across the room are like a shot across the bow. People start streaming out of the exits and a sickening sense of dread seeps into my bones. I pray I’m wrong as I approach the small crowd that has gathered around whatever spectacle caused the ruckus.
I grab the arm of a woman standing next to me without thinking when I see what’s happening.
Duke is on the floor cradling his nose, blood pours down the front of his shirt and Carter is being restrained by a huge security guard. He’s not struggling, but he’s taking huge swallows of air and his head is bent. There’s a spray of blood on the front of his shirt.
I rush over and stand in the space between them.
“What happened?” I ask, my eyes darting wildly between them. Duke pulls his hand away from his nose and stares unblinkingly at it. It’s like he’s seems paralyzed by the sight of his own blood, Carter lifts his head to look at me, the stone cold fury on his face freezes my blood.
“Carter, what happened?”
“He touched you?” he growls at me, and I recoil from the rage and accusation on his face and take an involuntary step backward.
I don’t have time to think before my father is upon me. All I can think is that he’s about to see Carter.
“Daddy, it’s a misunderstanding, I’m sorry,” I step in front of him and try to shield Carter from his view.
He wraps a hand around my bicep and starts to march toward the exit.
“You don’t know what sorry is. But you will.” His expression is calm, the only sign of darkness waiting to explode is a vein that’s popped up on his forehead.
“What kind of man are you? Touching your own daughter like that?” Carter’s rage filled shout cuts through the loud buzz of a hundred conversations happening at once and my father stops abruptly.
When I start to turn around, he yanks my arm hard and keeps me facing forward. There are shocked gasps and the sounds of a scuffle behind me.
He flicks a glance over his shoulder.
“Handle him.” His voice is cold and authoritative.
I’m gripped by a blood curdling sense of doom as he resumes our walk to the door.
This is an unmitigated disaster. I want to turn back time and send Carter home.
Somewhere Andrew Wolfe can’t touch him.
There are grunts of pain and the unmistakable sounds of a fight.
As we approach the door, I’m nearly overcome with the sense of walking towards an irrevocable moment.
Visions of my grandmother’s house, of being held down by Tobias, of my father’s fury just hours ago, all of it coalesces into a shot of adrenaline that clears the fog of fear I’d been choking on.
I have something they all need.
I’m not helpless. I’m not afraid of him. He can’t hurt me.
And I’m not leaving Carter here alone with them either.
I struggle in his hold and he looks down at me, incredulous, his grip slips but he tightens his hold on me.
“You have ruined everything,” he seethes.
Those words are like the fuse to my already explosive anger before I even realize what I’m doing I kick him hard in the leg. The hard point of my shoe sinks into the firm but yielding muscle in his calf and he drops my arm.