Hellraiser (The Devil's Own #2) (25 page)

I can barely hear him over the electric guitar, but I lean into him. “Can I come up?”

He smiles, his hand reaching for me. I take that as a yes, and pull myself up. Everything looks high from up here, even though it’s not that high. I can see where Hella and Millie are still standing, and Phoebe is down on the dance floor making moves. The DJ leans into me. “What’s your name?”

“Melissa,” I yell back, smiling at him. “What’s yours?”

“DJ Eazy.” He winks at me and I laugh, throwing my head back, making our exchange way more interesting than what it really is. When I look down at Hella, his eyes are burning into mine, only instead of him being angry, he smirks, lifts his beer bottle to me, and pulls Millie under his arm possessively before throwing me a wink. My heart shatters. My gut weeps with betrayal and something changes in me. I just want to go home and crawl under my covers. I look towards DJ Eazy. “Can you play a song? Then I better get off.”

He bobs his head to the beat. “Yeah, go for it.”

I tell him what song to play as he helps me climb back down the little platform we were on. I look towards the crowd, bringing the bottle to my mouth and taking a drink. Tears begin to cloud my vision. The dancing, the drunken laughter, all of it slowing to a drastically crawling speed, and then finally Hella and Millie’s exchange. I turn my back on the party and begin walking towards the dark farmland behind the DJ as Three Days Grace’s
“I Hate Everything About You”
remixes in from the previous song.

Melissa

My heavy steps drag me deeper into the paddock until the music has died out a little and I drop down onto my knees, the bottle falling to the side of my legs, hanging from my grip. The first tear falls and I wipe it away angrily, taking anther drink. I drink and I drink until the thick darkness of the night is nothing but smudgy ink. I’m lying on my back with the stream of tears I had unleashed finally drying out on my cheeks.

“What the fuck are you doing, Melissa?”

I draw in a breath, but my brain is way too fucked to even comprehend or give a shit right now.

“Go away,” I whisper, attempting to bring my hands to the grass with my knees pressing into the ground. The hollow hole is still aching in my stomach from the betrayal and I try to push my body up when a snicker leaves me. “My own fucking sister and my ex—whatever the fucking fuck you were—you know what!” I slur, finally getting to my feet. I can only see the mere outline of his shadow. “I may have meant jack fucking shit to you, Braxton fucking Ward, but you meant something to me,” I whisper angrily before stepping up to his body. I point my finger into his chest. “You hear that?!” I yell, more tears surfacing. “I fucking loved you, you piece of fucking shit!” I stab my finger into his chest and his hand whips up to it, gripping my fingers in his palm.

He pulls me toward him. “You don’t know shit about love, Melissa.”

“Oh, and you do?” I scoff, ripping my hand out of his grip.

“I know what I felt for you wasn’t love,” he says, his body still, the breathing between us heavy. More tears fall as the last bit of my heart finally breaks.

God, I was an idiot
.

He steps up to me, his hand finding mine. “It was fucking
more
than love, Melissa. It was obsession, possession, lust, love, fucking ownership, and it fucking consumed me, but you took it all away when you walked away from me.”

I swallow past the shock. “Well then, you’re wrong, Brax. It wasn’t any of those things, because if it was, no one could take it away from you, especially not my
sister
.” I push past him and begin stumbling back towards the party. I don’t know if he’s following me and I don’t care. I need to be alone right now. I almost reach the DJ platform again when Jada rounds the corner. “Oh, thank God!” Her hand flies up to her chest. “Hey,” she whispers, her tone changing when she sees my face. New tears are pouring down my face and it infuriates me that I have no control over them.

“I really need to leave,” I answer, my voice hiccupping with each word.

“Okay, honey, okay, let’s go.” She takes my elbow in hers, looks over my shoulder, nods her head, and directs me behind the party so we don’t have to go through the swarm of people. This night had been a lot of things, but somehow, I have come out of it more broken than I did when I entered.

They say—don’t ask who, I don’t know—the morning of weddings is supposed to be filled with something magical. The air is supposed to be light, love is supposed to surround everyone as we all come together to celebrate the connection of two people in love, but all I want to do is shoot the first person I see. My eyes are fixed on the alarm clock beside the bed, its loud noise slowly coming into earshot as everything from last night comes crashing back to me.

“Jesus, Melissa!” Jada walks into the room and hits the alarm clock. She takes a seat on the bed, it sinking around her weight. She places a mug of what I’m suspecting is coffee—black—down beside my bed and sighs. “Are you okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” I mumble, my eyes remaining fixed on the bright red glow on the numbers of the alarm clock.

“Tell you
what
?” she asks, her tone genuine.

I roll onto my back, my head throbbing, and I close my eyes to help shut out the pain. “Millie and Hella.”

“What?” she questions before understanding sets in. “Oh, that.”

“Yes,” I bite out. “That.”

She turns her body to face me and I brace for it, the truth. “I thought you already knew that she was the one who had told Hella where to find that guy.”

“What?” My head turns to face her. “What do you mean?”

She rests her hand on the bed. “They’ve been talking about the other guys, and he’s been trying to get her to spill who the other ones were. He eventually gave up and went to Zane’s IT guy. He needed to ask him to run some stuff for him anyway. He found out who they were, but hasn’t acted on it.” She searches my eyes. “Is that what you meant, or did I just get someone into deep shit?”

Realization sinks in that Hella was fucking with me like he always fucks with me, and that hole that’s lodged in my gut shrinks a bit. “Actually, that’s a lot less of a problem than what I thought.”

She pats my bed and points to the dress that’s hanging on the door. “Get changed. We have a wedding to get to.”

I push myself off the bed and take the pastel nude pink bridesmaid dress down. It’s simple and elegant, just like Meadow. I place it onto the bed and make my way to the bathroom for a quick shower. I groan loudly while the hot water cascades off my aching muscles from the hit my body took from all the alcohol consumption last night. Slipping out, I wrap a towel around my body quickly. I’m walking out of the bathroom when Jada calls out from the kitchen, “Melissa! We’re doing makeup and hair down here!”

“Gotcha,” I return headily, slipping back into my room and putting the dress on in record time. I step into the kitchen to find Jada getting her makeup done and Phoebe already finished, refilling the coffee jug.

“I’m almost done,” Jada assures me.

Phoebe groans, her hand going up to her forehead. “No talking.”

I grunt in agreement before joining her, taking a coffee mug and pouring some in. We stand there and sip our coffee in the silence, the only sound breaking through coming from the ticking clock which hangs on the living room wall. I look in there to see Millie dressed and ready on the sofa watching television. I’m not ready to talk with her yet, even though there isn’t anything going on with her and Hella. Figures. There’s still a part of me that feels betrayed that they both went behind my back. And Millie being Millie, I’m a little shocked that she disclosed that sort of information to Hella. I’m hoping she didn’t realize that he would kill Eddy, but I can see how distant she’s been, and I know that we still haven’t gotten to the bottom of her issues with who her priest was, but I’m betting it was just some sick sociopath.
A corrupted Catholic church. I’m shocked..
.

“Hon?” The makeup artist gets my attention. “Can you put this robe around you so I can keep your dress clean while I do your makeup?”

I nod, downing the rest of my coffee and picking up the robe that’s sitting on the table. Phoebe looks at me, her elbows resting on the kitchen counter with each of her fingers massaging her temples. She looks out the kitchen window. “How’re you feeling?”

“About as good as you look.” I turn to face her so no one else can hear our conversation. “When’re Ryder and Ryker getting here?”

“Mmm.” She drinks the rest of her cup before standing. “They’re at the clubhouse already. They thought they would have had to leave earlier because of the paparazzi, but they managed to lose them with a decoy car.”

“Oh. So just an average morning for the Oakley household, then?”

She laughs before wincing, a hiss escaping her. “Yes, something like that.”

“Melissa? You’re up!” The makeup artist says from her spot. I place my mug on the counter and take a seat where Jada once was. The artist begins to work on my face as the hairstylist starts on my hair.

The front door swings open and in walks Meadow and my mom carrying a huge black garment bag with what I’m guessing is Meadow’s wedding dress.

“I know, I know,” she mutters, rushing in. “I’m late. Lucky I’m keeping things simple.”

“Meads, you could have just stayed with us last night!” Phoebe moans.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t like to be away from Beast and, since finding out about the pregnancy, he’s been a little more on-edge with me being away from him.”

My makeup and hair get done fast, as the stylists obviously need to get to Meadow, and I don’t mind one bit. Our makeup is simple with a light shade of smoke, pale pink lips to match our dresses, and our hair is styled in a loose, tousled bun sitting at the nape of our necks. I slipped on the strappy heels and poured another coffee, making it obvious that I’m staying away from Millie.

A little over an hour later, we all pile into the SUVs outside. Meadow’s dress looks perfect. It’s tight around her torso with two thick lace straps which lead to it, dropping around her feet, and a train follows behind her. Her hair is styled the same as ours, but with little white flowers placed in an orderly fashion within her bun.

Once we pull into the clubhouse, all the cars are parked in the front along with the masses of different bikes. I guess when the boss gets married, they make it an event. “Holy shit,” I whisper as the SUV comes to a halt. We all climb out of the cars as elegantly as possible, though my head’s throbbing intensifies with each crunching step on the gravel. I pick up Meadow’s train as we make our way around the side of the clubhouse to the back where there’s a massive white Moroccan tent set up for the reception area. Behind that on top of a little hill sits the altar and seating. We start walking through, stopping just before the little gold runner begins and get into formation. Phoebe is at the front, and then me, followed by Jada. I groan again, my head thumping. “Meadow?” I whisper out again.

“What?” She looks at me, but I keep my eyes fixed to the back of Phoebe’s head.

“Please tell me you don’t have some loud rock song we have to walk down the aisle to because my brain is about to fucking explode.”

“Second that,” Phoebe hollers, holding up deuces.

“No,” Meadow says. “Did Phoebe not tell you?”

“Shit.” Phoebe curses. “It slipped my mind, with all the absinth.” She sighs. “Ryker is playing a song.” Just as she finishes saying that, Joe Satriani’s
Always With Me, Always With You
begins playing softly.

My head tilts up to the sky before I mutter, “Of-fucking-course you would go full cheese ball. You’re killing me here.”

Phoebe starts walking slowly and I clutch the bouquet of flowers before following a few steps behind her. I keep my eyes locked on the back of Phoebe’s head, praying I don’t trip up or suddenly need to vomit. All heads are turned towards us and I smile at my mom, who’s sitting at the front beside Millie.

When I look up to the altar, my breath catches. Meadow has Phoebe, me, and Jada, but Beast only has Hella. I did wonder why he didn’t have all the brothers, but I get it; it’s a personal affair, and he and Hella are about as close as you get. They’re both in their cuts with a white suit shirt underneath rolled up to their elbows. They look good—too good, because now I’m staring too long at Hella.

He catches my glimpse and a grin appears on the corner of his lips, displaying one of his dimples.

I quickly look towards Ryker Oakley who’s sitting at the front in the corner, strumming his guitar as if it’s a piece of cake and he’s not playing a tune from one of the greatest guitarists of all time. Once we’re standing on Meadow’s side, they go through their vows and my ears zone out. I’m a horrible friend, but situations like this make me uncomfortable. Once Beast has done a lot more than kissing his bride, they go off to sign their marriage certificates as everyone stands from their seats and walks toward the tent where the DJ is set up. My hangover is almost finished, but I won’t be touching another drink for at least a week, I presume.

I wrap my arms around my torso and look towards Hella, who also hasn’t moved from where he stood during the procession. His head nudges towards the field behind us and I nod my head. May as well get this shit over with so I can finally move on from this monster of a fuck-up. Following close behind him, he stops and pushes his hands into his pockets, his back turned to me. It’s a hot back.

“You wanted to talk?” I ask, stepping up beside him.

His jaw clenches, his eyes staying locked on the view in front of us, which isn’t much, just trees and grass. “Yeah,” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “I haven’t touched your sister, Melissa.”

“I know,” I answer, taking a seat on the grass because my feet are beat. He looks down at me, the afternoon sun setting behind him. It’s not fair that this amount of asshole is held in this magnificent-looking man.