Down for the Count (Dare Me) - By Christine Bell Page 0,1

“You’re going to let them off that easy? Oh, no way. Not on my watch.” Her maid of honor and sister from another mister, Cat Thomas, pushed past her and peered in. Her green eyes were a bit bleary as she treated the couple in the closet to a death stare. “I should kick your prissy little ass.”

She was probably talking to Becca, but it was a fitting threat for both of them, and that made the whole thing even more awful. Marty wouldn’t have even considered bending Lacey over a table, never mind one in the linen closet of a public place, but there he’d been, doing exactly that with her friend. On their wedding day.

“Cat, stay out of it,” a low male voice murmured.

Lacey closed her eyes and bit back a groan. Of all the people to have witnessed her shame, Galen Thomas would’ve been her last choice. Cat’s brother had been away for the past eight months training for a fight, and he’d just returned to Rhode Island. Lacey had been so sure he would still be at home recovering, she’d never expected him to come to the wedding.

Growing up, he had been a never-ending source of torment for Lacey, either unaware or unimpressed with the fact that she’d harbored a serious crush on him since grade school. In spite of his ribbing and her efforts to act like she couldn’t care less, over the years they’d forged an uneasy alliance for Cat’s sake. She hated him seeing her at her lowest point. Especially after he’d warned her about Marty the year before.

His muttered, “Watch yourself, squirt. He’s spineless, and spineless people don’t care who gets hurt, so long as it’s not them,” had stuck with her far longer than it should have.

Or maybe not long enough, she thought glumly and took one last look at the train wreck in front of her.

“I’m fine, Cat. Galen’s right. I need to go before any of the other guests see this.” She met Marty’s miserable gaze. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. Don’t try to contact me. I have nothing to say to you.”

She turned to Becca and the ache in her gut increased tenfold. For a brief moment, she wondered if it should be the other way around. Shouldn’t his betrayal hurt worse? But before she could catch hold of the thought, it burned away under the heat of white-hot anger at Becca. The third amigo. The other sidekick for the force that was Cat. The person she could call when she just wanted to vent instead of plot to take over the world. If Cat was the meat of their sandwich, Lacey and Becca were the slices of bread.

Not anymore.

Sweet, sweet Becca was now Becca the Betrayer.

“And you?” She cast around for something to say, to lash out, to make her pay, but all she could muster was, “I want my ’N-Sync T-shirt back. Then lose my number.”

Becca’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, her pink cheeks going chalk white.

The tears were coming soon. They were building at the back of her throat like an imprisoned scream. She had to get out of there, fast. Cat took her arm and led her across the hall with a hissed, “Bastards,” over her shoulder. Galen fell into step on her other side.

“Is this a nightmare? Please tell me this is a nightmare,” Lacey murmured under her breath.

“This is no nightmare, squirt. This is the luckiest day of your life,” Galen said, his tone grim.

“Not the time, bro.” Cat popped her brother hard on the shoulder with a balled-up fist.

“It’s the truth. That guy wasn’t good enough to wipe your shoes. And your friend there is getting exactly what she deserves. A jellyfish of a man for a jellyfish of a woman. She always was weak.”

There was an uncharacteristic compliment buried in that statement, and it registered briefly through her shock, but she didn’t have a chance to dwell on it. They’d reached the main reception hall filled with her family and friends. The black cloud of dread hanging over her thickened. The wedding was supposed to have paved the way for two of the city’s most high-powered law firms to merge into one big family firm. Now that might never happen and, despite the circumstances being out of Lacey’s control, her mother was going to be furious.

She paused and ran a hand over her hair, the strains of “Mony Mony” pouring through the doors increasing her agitation tenfold. “I have