Dark Horse: Bad Boy Cowboy Romance (17 page)

I opened the door and stepped inside.

Marsden's apartment had a fairly modern, open floor plan. The front door opened right on the living room, with a full bank of windows and a set of glass sliding doors on the far side of the living room opening up onto a balcony area. Off to the left side from the living room, a pair of big double doors led into the master bedroom and master bathroom, while a short little hallway on the right side of the living room went to both the kitchen and the guest bedroom and bathroom. Marsden hired some fancy-pants interior decorator to furnish the apartment, and he or she had apparently chosen to paint most of the surfaces white and supply white leather furniture. A few throw pillows and rugs of bright blood red distracted slightly from the dazzling whiteness of the rest of the apartment.

My attention, however, wasn't drawn by the red accent decorations.

Instead, my eyes locked on the topless young woman bending over the back of one of the white leather couches, her ass, clad only in a pair of lacy pink panties, facing towards me.

"Got it!" the young woman exclaimed as I stepped in, straightening up and holding up a matching lacy pink bra triumphantly in one hand. "It was under the couch-"

She turned, spotted me staring wide-eyed at her, and let out a squeak. For a moment, she just stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, before suddenly recovering her ability to move and making a mad dash through the open doors into the bedroom.

An instant later, Marsden emerged through those same doors, clad only in his boxers, frowning. "Stop running around! I'm going to let her-" He also stopped short as he saw me, his eyes widening with a similar expression as the young woman had worn.

For a moment, I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, trying to find words to express how I felt. There were none. All I could feel was shock and betrayal - and beneath that, a building rage.

I took a step forward, reaching down and seizing my ring, that damn engagement ring, from where it still sat on my finger.

"Jillian, wait, I can explain," Marsden began as I stepped forward, even though his tone and the way he held up his hands made it clear that he didn't have any real explanation. His words rang false, as though he was just grasping at the last few straws, already knowing that he was about to fall.

I pulled the ring off of my hand, wrapping my fingers around it in a fist.

"Look, she just came over to comfort me," the man in front of me stammered, taking a step back as I kept on advancing. His boxer-clad ass bumped up against the back of the couch behind him. "Really, she doesn't mean anything-"

I took another step forward, now only a foot or so in front of Marsden. I held up the fist with the ring clutched inside, and then pitched the ring forward.

It sailed past the man, through the open double doors to the balcony and vanishing out into the space beyond.

Marsden partially turned, his mouth still open, watching the ring fly away. I reached forward and put both of my hands up on his shoulders.

"Here's my response," I said sweetly - and brought my knee up between the man's legs with all the force I could muster.

I felt something crunch as my knee collided with the man's unprotected privates, and he immediately doubled forward, gasping and making wretching noises.

Letting go of him, I tightened my right hand into a fist. Throwing the weight of my whole body into the blow, I brought it across in a perfect cross, slamming it into the man's face.

Once again, something gave way at this hit - and Marsden tumbled down onto the floor, landing on his chest and knees. He tried to turn his head to say something up to me, but only gurgling noises emerged from his parted lips.

"Goodbye, Marsden," I said, glaring down at him.

And then I turned on my heel and left his apartment.

Well, okay, I did one more thing.

On my way back to the door, I noticed the man's damn cane, that monstrosity with the silver talon clutching a bull's horn, leaning up against the wall right beside the door. As I passed the front door, I reached out and grabbed the ugly thing, bringing it with me.

I intended to toss the thing into a bonfire as soon as I arrived home.

Chapter twenty-six

It wasn't until I was back in my truck, heading back to my house, that the gravity of what I'd just seen finally hit me. I had to pull the truck over to the edge of the road, onto the shoulder, and put it in park so that I could put my head down in my hands, resting it against the steering wheel.

My fiancé had cheated on me - and from the way he'd tried to defend himself, it sounded as if this wasn't a one-time thing that had only just happened. No, from the way that Marsden attempted to justify things to me - before I clocked him - it sounded as though this affair had been going on for quite a while.

How hadn't I seen it? Was I just oblivious, or had I been choosing to ignore the signals?

As I sat there in my idling car, breathing heavily and trying to keep from crying, I realized that the young woman in Marsden's apartment had looked familiar. It took me a minute to place her - when I'd last seen her, she definitely hadn't been nearly naked and looking shocked at my intrusion - but I finally placed her.

Kristy, the young waitress at the Highball Club, Marsden's favorite restaurant. She'd served us the night before, and she'd looked startled to see Marsden bring in another woman. Marsden, as well, had looked surprised to see her there in the evening, instead of only during the lunch shift.

That had to be it, I realized. He must have met her there, and they'd started having an affair. That was why he never wanted me to visit during business hours, and why he didn't return messages or calls right away. I always thought that his delay was because he was so engrossed in work.

Instead, he'd been busy fucking that whore of a waitress, cheating on me with every opportunity he got.

I slammed the base of my palm against the steering wheel, making the truck honk, and howled in helpless frustration. I'd been concerned about even thinking about Lance's body, what it would be like to kiss the man, and the whole time, my fiancé had been having an affair, fucking another woman! How had I been so dumb?

And what to do now? I sat there in the car for several more minutes, trying to think, waiting for my thoughts to return to some sort of order. After another few minutes, however, I gave up and accepted that this wasn't going to happen.

I pulled out my phone, fumbling to unlock it through a haze of tears. I scrolled through the phone book until I found Dahlia Remont's phone number.

"Dolly, I need help," I said right away, as soon as my friend picked up at the other end.

Thankfully, there was a reason why this woman had earned the title of my best friend. As soon as she heard the barely held back panic and sadness in my voice, she didn't bother asking me whether everything was alright. "Do you want to go out, or should I meet you at your house?" she asked.

I tried to think for a second. If I went back home, Lance would learn what I'd discovered, and I'd have to deal with his pity, his attempts to comfort me - and there was always the chance that he'd go storming off, intent on murdering Marsden for me. That probably wouldn't be the best choice, despite how satisfying it might feel.

"Out," I said. "But, um, I don't know where."

"Are you in town still? How about the Pink Panther? They've got great drinks, and I guarantee that no men will stop by and bother us there."

Even through my tears, I had to smile a little at Dahlia's suggestion. The Pink Panther, although it didn't state so publicly, had become known as the area's local lesbian bar. Most of the men in the area avoided the place, after a few pervert hecklers had been kicked out with extreme prejudice by the owners - wielding baseball bats.

"That sounds good," I said, trying to wipe my ears clear. "I'll see you there in a few minutes."

"Take your time, don't rush," she replied immediately. "See you there, Gilly."

I put the truck back into drive and pulled a U-turn, heading back into town, towards the Pink Panther.

When I stepped into the bar, there weren't many patrons frequenting the place - which made sense, given that it wasn't yet even ten in the morning on a weekend. I didn't need to look hard to spot Dahlia, sitting at a large booth on her own and waving at me as though I was searching for her in a crowd.

As soon as I slipped into the booth across from her, she raised her hand again, this time waving to the bartender behind the bar. The woman, looking very serious and no-nonsense with her black hair cut short and spiked and a silver ring piercing one side of her nose, stepped over to our table.

"What can I get you?" she asked, frowning down at us.

I shrugged, unable to think enough to make a drink decision. Dahlia, across from me, took one look at me and then took over for me. "Mimosas, I think," she decided. "At least to start us off. And we'll take three each, and then go from there."

I expected this order to at least raise the bartender's eyebrows, but she just shrugged and walked off to get our drinks.

"I love that about this place," Dahlia said as the woman walked away from our table. "They don't have any sort of judgement for what you choose to buy here! If I wanted to order a pint glass full of Everclear, they wouldn't mock me - they'd just get it for me and ring me up! It's great!"

When I didn't laugh at her joke, she frowned across the table at me. "Oh, shit. Something's really wrong, isn't it? What's going on?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm, and managed to walk Dahlia through the events of the last couple of days. I told her how Marsden seemed to keep on avoiding my questions about the wedding, and how when, after dinner, I confronted him on it, he instead accused me of cheating on him. I told her about how when I argued back that I wasn't, and maybe Marsden was just feeling insecure about the wedding, he hit me.

At this point, I could see that Dahlia was hopping mad, bouncing up and down on her seat with rage. "Goddamn that asshole! I swear, I'll beat the shit out of him!" she shouted out, drawing concerned glances from a couple of the other patrons.

"You'll have to get in line," I said, managing a brief little smile for a moment. "Lance saw him hit me, and knocked him down onto the ground with one punch. He then scooped me up and carried me off to bed, and stayed with me to make sure that everything was all right."

"Lance," Dahlia echoed back. "This is that guy that you met a couple of months ago, right? The one who's been staying at your house and fixing everything for you, cooking for you, and basically treating you like a princess to be waited on hand and foot?"

"He's not like that!" I protested. The bartender passed by our table and dropped off our drinks, and I picked up the nearest mimosa glass and took a long sip. "He's just helping out in exchange for free room and board. And I buy all the groceries - he just cooks them for me."

My friend shook her head. "God, I'd love to have a guy agree to that deal," she sighed. "But so he stayed with you? Anything interesting happen?"

I considered telling Dahlia that I kissed the man the next morning, but decided that this little tidbit of information could wait until later. "Nope. The next morning, this morning, Marsden was gone already - but I decided to go and give him back his ring."

"Makes sense," Dahlia nodded. "After all, it's not like you'd marry the asshole after he hit you."

"I'm not done yet," I warned her. I went on to tell her about how I found another car parked at Marsden's apartment, and how I discovered that he had been having an affair with Kristy, the waitress from the Highball Club - the same woman who served us both the night before at dinner.

By the time finished this, Dahlia was once again on the edge of her seat, her eyes filled with rage and her hand squeezing her glass so tightly I was afraid it was about to shatter. "Okay, now I'm really going to beat the shit out of him!" she shouted out. "I'm going to take that damn cane he struts around with and shove it right up his dick hole!"

That comment made me grin. "Well, I've got the cane out in my truck, if you really feel that way," I smirked.

"Don't tempt me," Dahlia warned me, tossing back the rest of her mimosa and slamming down the glass. "I might actually do it."

After a minute, however, my best friend let some of the anger fade from her eyes, turning her attention back to me. "But in any case, it looks like the wedding's definitely off," she said, sounding a little calmer. "Oh, Gilly, I'm so sorry. What are you going to do now?"

I shook my head. I didn't have an answer.

Chapter twenty-seven

As we both stopped, considering what options remained open to me, we both made liberal use of the drinks that the unsmiling bartender kept on refilling. I almost immediately lost track of how many mimosas I'd tossed back, but each one made me feel a little warmer inside and helped me forget about how much of an utter asshole Marsden was, and so I kept on drinking.

"And what about Lance, then?" Dahlia questioned, her finger shooting out as she remembered the man's name - and coming within an inch of knocking over my drink.