Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (22 page)

********

Sabrina is getting married tomorrow. She’ll walk down the aisle at 4:00 pm. Fluffy white dress. Elegantly decorated church. Huge reception with live music. The whole deal.

I wouldn’t even have known if Oliver, my favorite intuitive private investigator, hadn’t outright told me the last time we met. He left it for last and hesitated. I didn’t hear much that he said after that.

I knew this was coming. We’re 27 now. This is what people do. Not what I do, of course, partly because I’m barely counted amongst the living. But of course this is the next step for Sabrina. She wants a family. Kids. Another man’s children growing inside of her body. Another man holding her hand while she gives birth to them. Another man raising them by her side.

I don’t care. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about for the past week, but I still tell myself that I don’t care.

Yet here I sit in the dark. Alone. I could attempt to forget it all inside the body of another woman, but I have absolutely no desire to do so. I rarely visit those clubs anymore. Trent is basically the only one who does. I prefer my sex to come to me.

I haven’t checked in on Bree since I stumbled into her house and made a fool of myself over a year ago. Now I can’t stop staring at this pile of folders that hold the information I have on her. On
him
, whoever her fiancé is. A full profile. Who he is, what he does, where he goes, how much he earns. If he’s an honest man or if he lies. If he’s faithful or if he cheats on her. Every text they’ve sent each other, every email. Even transcripts of their phone calls.

Stay out of it. Just stay out of it. He’s probably just some guy and she’s probably happy enough. Stay the fuck out of it.

I can’t. I’m still in love with her. I don’t want to be. I’d do anything to shake this. But I still fucking love her.

So I pour myself a drink and open the folders. My heart beats faster when I see a picture of her smiling face, somehow able to ignore that she’s in the arms of someone else. Then it stops beating completely when I learn who he is and what he’s done.

I don’t fucking think so.

An hour later, I’m speeding toward the airport, driving myself because I can’t stand the idea of someone else in the car with me. One of our private jets is fueling up and I’ll be in the air within the hour.

Sabrina

Age 27

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say aloud.

“What do you mean?” Sun replies, her hand falling away from her face as she applies another coat of mascara.

“I…” That was supposed to be a thought.

“She’s just nervous,” my mother tells her. “You will be, too.”

“I don’t know if I ever want to get married,” Sun says. “It seems antiquated.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mother cries as I grin at my sister. “Sabrina just has cold feet. All women do. I was a wreck on my wedding day. I almost didn’t go through with it.”

Sun runs a brush through her long dark hair. With mine straightened, we almost look alike. “Which wedding day?”

“The first one.” My mother adjusts my veil. “I didn’t hesitate when I married your father.”

“You didn’t hesitate divorcing both of them, either,” Sun remarks.

“Hush!”

“Well, you didn’t!”

“Now is the time to be the voice of encouragement, Sun.”

I ignore their bickering, standing in front of the mirror. I need to look perfect in these pictures. They’ll be on my walls forever. Ideally. The dress is a tad lose around the waist. I had it taken in two weeks ago and barely had a bite to eat since.

I’m supposed to have a bit of a bump by now, that’s why I chose this dress. I should be eighteen weeks along. That baby was the only reason I even said yes. Everett proposed on the spot when I told him. Now it’s gone and I’m still marrying him. The ring didn’t even fit and it was a short engagement. Everybody knew I was pregnant. Now everyone knows that I’m not.

I barely planned anything, not that I really have the time. That’s why you hire wedding planners and endure an over involved mother. All I cared about was avoiding lavender. Everyone’s wedding colors involve purple. I pull up my dress to reveal the pop of color in my favorite red heels. I refused to buy new shoes. These are gorgeous and broken in, very comfortable. My something old.

I can do this. Just smile, walk down the aisle and repeat the vows. I didn’t even have to memorize any lines. It will be over before I know it and then I don’t have to worry about going through with this. Is that how you’re supposed to feel on your wedding day?

“We should have held the ceremony earlier,” my mother says. “Then you wouldn’t have had so much time to fret.”

“I’m not fretting.”

“You look like you’re fretting,” Sun says, holding out the bouquet of red roses I’ll be carrying.

“I’m not. It’s just nerves.”

“See?” Mother grins. “It’s fine. She loves Everett.”

No, I don’t
. At least I was able to keep that thought to myself. I check the time and grab the bouquet from my sister. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sun!”

“I’m sure.” Why not Everett? I don’t really expect to love the man I marry. Love is messy. Love makes you crazy. Love is fleeting. Or maybe I do in fact love Everett, but I’m confused about the meaning of the word because I started using it wrong when I was far too young to understand what it actually meant.

The music starts and I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t stop the room from spinning. My mother is escorted down the aisle by an usher. Sun lines up with Everett’s sisters and cousins, my only options for bridesmaids because he had so many groomsmen.

Dad is here, smiling and holding out his arm. It’s just for show. His eyes aren’t watering, he doesn’t offer any words of encouragement. He isn’t nostalgic or proud, he isn’t feeling anything at all because I’m not actually his daughter. Just a needy child his ex-wife brought into his home years ago. Now he just has to go through the motions.

The quartet changes its tune, calling me toward my fate. The doors open and I march forward, remembering to smile when I see the photographer. But any excitement I was feeling falls into a pit in my stomach and churns into dread. My heart beats faster, but from fear and adrenaline. The only reason I don’t turn around and run out of this church is the 350 pairs of eyes on me and all the smiles that go with them.

The man I’m pledging my life to grins and shifts on his feet. What is he feeling? He doesn’t appear to be overcome with emotion. Does he want to run, too? I march toward him, each step growing heavier.

My father stops at the altar and gives the groom my hand. I glance at my sister, who struggles not to roll her eyes at the outdated custom. The music stops and everyone takes their seat.

“We are gathered here today…”

My mouth is so dry. I’m supposed to speak soon and I don’t know if I’ll be able to force out the words. This isn’t cold feet. This isn’t nerves. This is a huge mistake.

“Stop!”

My heart thumps to life. I don’t even have to turn around to see who it is. I’d know that voice anywhere. I hear it in my dreams nearly every night.

“I am speaking now. I will not hold my peace,” Adam declares.

“We didn’t get to that part yet,” the minister says, dumbfounded.

“I object anyway.”

I chuckle, finally spinning around as a real smile crosses my face.

“What the…” my fiancé and father say in unison, the only words I can make out over the whispering crowd.

Adam’s eyes meet mine and I can’t breathe. His hair is disheveled and he’s not wearing a tie, but he’s just as gorgeous as he’s always been. “Don’t do this,” he pleads, stepping toward me.

“Who the hell is this?” Everett asks as my father yells, “Get him out of here.”

“Try me,” Adam barks toward the ushers, one of whom just turned fourteen years old last week. “The security at this wedding is sorely lacking.”

“Who needs security at a wedding?”

“You do.”

Everett’s face is priceless as Adam stomps toward us. He stops when he’s a few feet away and again begs me, “Please, don’t go through with this.”

“Adam…”

“You can’t. Bree, please. You deserve better. Better than me. Certainly better than him.”

“Who
are
you?”

Adam ignores him. My face flushes as I stare out at the crowd. No matter what I choose, everyone will be talking. “I still…” Adam stammers. “I’m still… You can’t do this.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Yes, I can.”

“We can still—”

“No, we can’t,” I interrupt him. We’ve tried. We’ve failed. It’s just not meant to be. I don’t say it aloud, but Adam knows what I’m thinking, his face contorting as his breaths become shallow.

“Sabrina, please.”

“Get the hell out of here!” Everett demands as I cringe. His voice always rises in pitch when he gets upset.

Adam finally turns his attention toward the man by my side, his eyes narrowing, his lips curling into a sneer. I forgot how scary his psycho face is. “
You
,” he snarls at Everett, curling his fist. “You…”

My fiancé stares at his groomsmen for backup. I doubt a single one of them has been in an actual fight. His cousin shrugs at him and his two college buddies glance at each other nervously.

“What the fuck you gonna do, chump?” Everett drops my arms and puffs out his chest as he strides toward Adam. The man simply has no survival instinct at all and he sounds ridiculous when he uses slang. Could this be more embarrassing?

“
You hit her
.”

Obviously it could. “He what?” Sun yelps.

Shame creeps across Everett’s face for a fleeting instant. “It was one time. It’s none of your business.” The crowd gasps.

“One time is all it takes,” Adam spits back. “And I know it was three.”

“Sabrina forgave me.”

“What!?!” Sun throws her tiny bouquet down on the ground, sending rose petals flying as she leaves her post. “You hit my sister?”

Adam steps aside, confused and clearly more intimidated by 90 pounds of raging baby sister than 200 pounds of borderline abusive fiancé.

“Sun!” my mother yells, pulling her arm as my sister berates Everett using horrible words I wasn’t aware that she even knew.

“I’m calling the police,” my father says calmly. “And you will be hearing from my attorneys soon. I spared no expense on this wedding.”

“You are such a shitty father.” Adam glares at him. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“For what?”

Adam answers my father’s question with a punch to the jaw. “You knew!” he screams, getting ready to punch him again. “Sabrina came to you for help and you told her to go back to him.”

My oblivious mother’s jaw falls open and she takes a step away from her former husband. “Jonathan?”

“People make mistakes, Geneviève.”

“This is so fucked up,” my sister says.

“Sun!” both of my parent’s admonish her.

“That’s it,” Everett declares. “I’ll drag you out of here myself.”

The moment his hand lands on Adam’s shoulder, he instantly regrets it. Or he would, if he wasn’t knocked out with the first punch. He falls to the floor, knocking over the unity candle and sending the terrified minister running.

But Adam doesn’t stop. He hits, kicks, stomps, and screams as Everett struggles to curl into the fetal position. The scene turns from a scandalous water cooler story into something closer to a crime scene. The best man approaches carefully, but Adam halts his advance with a single crazed look.

I’ve been frozen in place the entire time, hoping this was an elaborate day dream. I no longer have that luxury, I’m the only one that can stop him.

“Adam…” I whisper, my voice hoarse as I reach toward the maniac. “Adam!”

He turns, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Everett groans and Adam kicks him one more time without even looking. I breathe out the hint of a laugh and shake my head, like I’ve just caught a child with his hand in the cookie jar instead of intervening during a physical assault. The corner of Adam’s mouth lifts into a grin.

Everett stirs again and Adam stomps his hand. “Stop kicking him, Adam.”

“He deserves it.”

I roll my eyes just long enough to be caught off guard. Adam lurches forward, his hand sliding to the back to my neck. His lips meet mine forcefully, prying mine apart with his tongue. My heart beats faster and I feel myself coming back to life. I hadn’t even realized that I’d been numb all this time.

Blood rushes through my body and I feel warm for the first time in years. Every nerve ending fires at once and I waver on my feet, but the madman that just stormed into my wedding steadies me and kisses me deeper. Then I feel his body jerk in my arms. He just kicked Everett yet again, not bothering to open his eyes or break our embrace.

I guide him away from my official former fiancé by dragging my nails across Adam’s neck. He groans into our kiss and shudders, following me. My eyes dart to the crowd for a moment and I try to pry his mouth from mine, but it’s impossible. He finishes kissing me when he wants to and not a heartbeat before.

My lips tingle as he steps away and then my heart stops beating. He’s leaving. Adam couldn’t let me marry Everett, but that doesn’t mean he actually wants me himself. I whimper, the old wound inside me reopening painfully.

Adam stops, hesitating before he turns around and offers me his hand. I take it and start running down the aisle with him, pulling the veil free from my hair. My dress billows around me in a cloud as I struggle to get into the limo waiting outside. Adam climbs in after me, but sits far away.

“Congratulations, you two!” the driver says.

“Take us to the airport,” Adam replies, inspecting the scraped knuckles on the back of his hand. “Go the long way.”

“This time of day, it shouldn’t be hard to get stuck in traffic.” He winks at us. “What about the reception?”

“It’s cancelled.” Adam opens his wallet and tosses the driver a few hundred dollars. “Close this.” He taps on the privacy window.

“Whatever you say…”