Marriage by Law (39 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

 "Do we have Band-Aid’s? There has to be a first aid kit here somewhere?" Adrian said, ignoring my question. 

I could feel my temples throbbing and I narrowed my eyes as I felt hot under all the lights.

"Sit down," said Jesse, pushing me toward a stool in the corner. I was more than happy to sit down and relax my feet that felt too painful.

"Here, it's water. Don't get too excited," Adrian was saying as he handed me a glass of water. I rolled my eyes and watched as he opened a white box next to him, taking out a needle and thread.

I inched backward. "Is he sober enough to use that?" I asked and then stopped. "I don't need any stitching."

Maybe a few band-aids and some cold ice, but the rest of me was well put together.

"It's not for you," said Adrian, chucking me something else. It was a damp cloth and I placed it against my face, sighing at the pain. God, this hurt. Was there a mirror somewhere so I could look at myself? 

Where was Darius?

I pulled the cloth back and winced at the blood I saw. I was sure I had a cut or two but not 
that
 
much blood would have come out. It was just a cut on my forehead.

My right eye was the most painful part of me as it twitched, straining against the bright lights I could see in a distance. Adrian and Jesse seemed to be in their own little world having a conversation while I just applied more damp towels to my face.

Did they have any aspirin somewhere? I was sure the bartender had some.

"Where is he going?" I asked as Jesse walked toward the other side.

Adrian turned to face me, looking a bit more sober than a few minutes ago, squinting his eyes as he looked at me.

"You look yuck."

"Thanks," I said with a scoff. Understatement of the year. I was sure my hair was a mess and sticking out everywhere, makeup ruined and not being able to tell the difference between my lipstick and blood. Maybe that's why the towel was so red. Could it be my lipstick?

Wait, it can’t be my lipstick. I was pretty sure that I washed that off.

"Where's Darius?" I asked again, flipping the towel over.

"Having a very civil discussion with James," he said. And then it hit me. He was having a 
civil
 
discussion with James?

"What?" I said, standing up quickly that my ankle protested. How did he know it was James? I didn't exactly tell him. 

"You shouldn't really go there," Adrian appealed as I rushed toward the stairs. As much as I hated James and wanted his dead body floating on the water, I didn't want Darius to be the one to land his body there.

The last thing I needed was some criminal case, or a guilty conscience. I rushed towards the room door when I heard faint voices in the distance making me halt. 

"How does it feel to have my leftovers?"

I winced and my stomach churched when I heard James’s voice. God, I hated him. The idea of his dead body was sounding a bit better now.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me since you know what you're missing out on?"

I heard the door open and stayed behind the corner, waiting a few seconds which really felt like minutes, before going into the room.

The sight only made me feel sicker. I wasn't expecting James to be on the floor covered in blood and holding his hand to his jaw. He looked up, wincing, but then relaxed when he saw it was me.

"I-Ivory," he said, hurrying or trying to get to his feet. "See what he did to me? He is vi –"

His words got caught in his mouth as I smacked his head with the golden vase on the floor, feeling triumphant at the sound of something cracking.

"I hope you rot in hell." Where even rats don't want his leftovers. And before I could unleash my anger out and hit him again, I felt an arm hold me back.

"He's not worth it." 

Shouldn't I be the one saying that?

Darius’s fingers disentangled mine form the vase, causing it to fall to the floor with a loud noise.

Shouldn't I be the one doing that?

 I watched the pathetic man cower in fear. I scoffed at him. You disgust me. I turned around and walked out of the room, where Adrian was waiting and telling us they were outside.

Who were outside?

I followed him as he took us back to the top and then toward the back where there was no one. 

I saw a speedboat in the water, somehow keeping up with the boat in perfect synchronization.

"Darius, you go first," said Adrian as he pulled a rope ladder into position. Was he crazy? It was freezing. If someone fell, they were going to freeze to death in the cold water.

But, of course, Darius made it seem nearly effortless as he hoisted himself up onto the ladder and then barely used it as he got to the boat below.

"Come on. Your turn."

"You know if I fall, I would drown." 

Adrian scoffed and waved an arm like he didn't care. "I'm sure you did plenty of fence jumping in your time." He even had the nerve to wink. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open. 

How on earth did he know that?

 I shook my head, going to the railing and lifting myself up. That was the easy part. I stopped, placed one leg over the railing and onto the rope, then the other. God, if I fell, I was going to die of pneumonia. 

Don't look down. I looked down. Okay, that wasn't so bad.

"Move it already," said Adrian impatiently. I looked up to glare at him.

"Stop nagging me."

I took it one at a time, slowly going down till my foot met the edge of the speedboat.

Darius helped me down and I let out the breath I was holding.

"Okay, go," he told the driver and I looked back at Adrian.

"Shouldn't we wait for him?"

"No."

I almost laughed as Adrian yelled at Darius while the speedboat went in the opposite direction. I shook my head at them both and sat down, wrapping my arms around myself and watching interestingly as he spoke to the driver, who was nodding.

They spoke in fluent French. The only word I understood was 'Merci', which, I was sure, meant thanks.

My teeth chattered and I pressed them together, trying to silence them as Darius walked back and then stopped in front of me. He watched me and shook his head.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Is watching me freeze that amusing?

"I brought it. I just lost it," I told him, trying to remember where my jacket had gone. Darius smiled, still shaking his head, as he sat down on the orange seat next to me.

"I told you that you wouldn't need it." 

Yes, I'll just freeze –

I yelped as he lifted me up, placing me between his legs and wrapping his jacket around the both of us.

I shivered, this time from the warmth, and how comfortable it felt. Can I just sleep?

"I still can't believe it," I muttered.

Darius wrapped his hands around my waist, holding me closer. "He won't bother you again. I'll make su –"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You didn't buy me that dog." 

Darius chuckled and I felt the vibrations on my back. He placed his chin on my shoulder and I could feel his warm breath.

"I'll buy you a picture of one."

I frowned, turning around to face him. "I want a real one,"

"I'll buy a life-size plushie."

"Why not a real one?"

"Adrian is allergic to them. And let's be honest, he spends more time in our house than in his."

I wasn't sure what to say, or what to think. He had called it 
our
 
house and the fact that he cared about his annoying childish cousin was too adorable.

"Fine," I said, turning back around. If he could make the sacrifice, I was sure I could. Damn you, Adrian. Always ruining everything. Then again I liked the idea of having one more than having to clean up and take it for walks. I can just go to the pet store to visit it.

"Fine?" he said, probably wondering why I gave up so easily.

I shrugged and turned around so I was half-facing him. "We already have a dog in the house," I said and before he could ask where, I said, "You."

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I woke up feeling even more exhausted and looked around the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

Darius was packing, and he was doing a terrible job of it. He tried shoving all the crumpled clothes into the suitcase, which he should have folded first. I shook my head. How did I get here?

I sat up and realised I was in warm cotton pants and a oversized jumper. When did I change? But looking at the clock, it was only five in the morning, and I was sure I hadn't slept for too long. What sane person is up at this unholy hour?

"Do you need help?" I asked as he kicked the suitcase and stood up, his hands on his hips staring down at the case. 

"I'll just get the hotel staff," he said and I held back a smile. I was sure it was Marge and the hotel staff that packed his bags.

Nevertheless, I got up and walked over to fix it. I could feel a headache coming. Maybe I should cut back on alcohol at parties. 

"Are we leaving?" I asked, managing to finally close the suitcase. 

"Do you want to stay?"

I shook my head. Oh hell, no. I wanted to go home. I missed it and there was not a chance I wanted to stay here.

"Then whenever you are ready, go have a shower."

I grabbed a hoodie from my open suitcase and some comfortable pants and headed to the bathroom. I couldn't wait for the long shower.

I laughed and shook my head as I took off my jumper. He had thrown the pants and jumper on top of my dress. The way he acted made me think he was a five-year-old who has never seen a girl naked before. 

And let's be honest, I was sure he had seen his own fair share.

I threw the ruined dress in the bin. There was no point wearing that again, as pretty as the dress was.

I did not look at my reflection in the mirror. The last thing I wanted to see was my wounded and bruised face. I had seen enough bruises on my legs to last me a lifetime.

The shower felt like water to a man in the Sahara desert. It was heavenly and by the time I came back to the room, everything was ready, the suitcases already taken downstairs.

"Ready?"

I nodded, taking the jacket off the chair and throwing it on. "Ready."

I followed Darius downstairs as he was tapping away on his phone and I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was on his phone.