The Domville 2 (The Domville #2) (10 page)

‘I’m right there with
you,’ I squeaked.
O my God
. I’d fucked Brady’s Dad! Three times! The man
responsible for bringing us closer together sexually was my father-in-law and
he’d not only fucked me, he’d sprayed his come all over my breasts before
licking it off, then he’d tongued and fucked my arse. I’d lost my backside
virginity to my father-in-law the night before my wedding and swallowed his
come. It was too much. My stomach roiled violently. I was going to be sick.
‘Will you please excuse me, I’m suddenly feeling rather unwell,’ I whispered,
shoving my glass on the bar and covering my mouth with one hand, as I scooped
up the front of my long dress with the other and ran for the toilets. I
shouldered the door open like an American Football player and raced for the
sink, barely making it before I lost control and the contents of my stomach
filled the designer, carved stone basin, narrowly missing my perfect, couture
dress. I started sobbing. This was so fucked up. I closed my eyes as I clung to
the basin and shook my head, trying to stop my tears.

‘Pumpkin, are you ok?’
came Brady’s concerned voice from outside the door.

‘I need … a while,’ I
managed to call between sobs, dreading him coming in to check on me. I had no
idea what to do. What was the etiquette at a wedding when I was likely to be
sandwiched between the two men I’d slept with today at the top table? At this
point I think I’d have preferred Mrs. Collins to have dug up her husband. I’d
happily sit with his ashes on my lap throughout the meal than be in this bloody
predicament. I tried to breathe calmly, I needed to get a grip and decide how I
was going to handle this. Simon seemed fairly composed, then again he’d
obviously seen me as I walked up the aisle, he’d had the whole ceremony to get
over the shock and pull himself together. Except for calling me bloody Leanna.
I grabbed a handful of the tissues thoughtfully placed at the side of the sink
and blew my nose. I then used a rolled up facecloth, which I soaked and wrung
out, to dab my mouth, removing the splatters of vomit. I tossed that in the
cleaning basket and grabbed another, trying to save what little makeup I had
left and scrub off the obvious tear tracks. I jumped and let out a startled
yelp as the cloakroom door swung open.

‘My God, what’s going
on? Brady’s in a state out there wondering what’s happened. Is it food
poisoning?’ Mandy demanded as she strode in. I shook my head and the tears I’d
valiantly fought to stem, started flowing again. ‘Lisa, what’s wrong?’ she
uttered, rushing forward to rub my back and turn on the tap to clear the sink.
‘Are you pregnant already?’ she asked, seemingly unconvinced of my earlier
response.

‘No,’ I snuffled.

‘Then what has you
looking like someone died?’

‘I just met … Brady’s
dad,’ I stuttered.

‘Shit, I was spot on. No
wonder you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I thought he was dead. That’s quite
the wedding present, reincarnation of a loved one.’

‘Stepdad,’ I reminded
her, it had never been a secret that he didn’t know his biological father. ‘I’ve
just met his …
real dad.
’

‘O,’ she murmured,
looking a little relieved. ‘Surprising, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so
upset?’

‘It’s not the first
time we’ve met,’ I replied, my voice wavering as that sick feeling returned
with a vengeance.

‘I’m so confused. You
met his real dad before, but you’re upset he’s here today?’ she frowned.

‘I met him … I met …
his name’s
Simon
,’ I whispered, giving her a poignant look.

‘Simon? Wow, talk about
coincidences, wasn’t the guy you fucked last night called Simon?’ She studied
me with a confused look on her face. I closed my eyes and pinched the top of my
nose, I could barely think of the truth, let alone confess it. This was a
nightmare. ‘O. My. God. You’re not telling me the Simon you fucked multiple
times last night is Brady’s
father
? The guy who tongued your arse and
gave you a pearl necklace?’ she gasped.

‘Yes,’ I nodded,
feeling utterly mortified. I whipped my head around as I heard a shocked intake
of air from behind us.

‘Brady,’ I choked. He
stood in the doorframe, one palm holding the door open with a strange
unreadable look on his face.
Please God, don’t let him have heard
, I
prayed.

‘The man you slept with
last night was … my father?’ he stated quietly, his eyes darkening as the hand
at his side balled into a tight fist. My heart was beating so fast and loud I
feared for the safety of my ribs, let alone my relationship, or marriage as it
was now. Brady’s expression was mixed. Fury along with complete and utter
devastation and …
revulsion.
I couldn’t exactly blame him, that’s how I
was feeling. Totally revolted with myself. Unwitting accident it may have been,
but … Jesus. How were we supposed to deal with this, to move past this? At
every family function I’d have memories of how amazing and dirty his dad was in
bed.

‘Brady, I didn’t know,’
I uttered, my seemingly never ending supply of tears starting to flow again. He
gulped and looked down at his gleaming polished Oxfords. ‘I’m so sorry, I
didn’t know,’ I repeated, as if that would wipe the images he must be getting
right now from his mind. He opened his mouth, as if he was going to say
something, then snapped it tightly shut, his lips turning white from the
obvious effort he was making not to let rip. I screwed up my face. The muscles
in his neck were corded and I could hear his teeth grating together. The look
on his face was murderous. ‘Brady, say something,’ I begged.

‘I have … no words. I
can’t …’ he broke off and shook his head, closing his eyes for a second. ‘I
can’t breathe. I need to go. I need to get out of here. I can’t even look at
you right now I feel so sick.’ He made a move to turn and leave and a sob
caught in my throat.

‘
Brady
, please!
Don’t leave me. We need to talk about this.’ I could hear the desperation in my
voice as I stepped towards him.

‘Don’t,’ he barked,
holding his palm up in my face. ‘We agreed, we agreed no fucking details. I
never wanted to know any of it and now … now it’s right here, in my face. Eating
me up from the inside and that pain’s
never
going to go away, Lisa. You
had sex with my fucking father! Five minutes ago I had a wife and a chance at a
relationship with him. Now I don’t know if I can ever even think of either of
you again without wanting to throw up, or punch something, let alone look at
you both. I need … I need to be alone. Please don’t try and contact me.’

I covered my mouth and
nose with my hands, his tone was so cold and harsh. Like I’d deliberately set
out to hurt him like this. I was just as devastated as he was and he was going
to walk out on me? Leave me standing here with a tear streaked face in my
wedding dress, with over one hundred guests who were all going to be looking at
me for answers. Was I supposed to stand there and tell them why my husband had
just stormed out and left me? As if I wasn’t upset and humiliated enough right
now.

‘Brady, you can’t do
this to her, it’s not her fault,’ Mandy urged forcefully behind me. I’d forgotten
she was here with me and looked around at her, willing myself to give her a
smile of thanks. She grasped my hand, lacing her fingers tightly through mine.

‘It’s not mine either,’
he roared, his fist connecting with the wall. I hissed in a shocked breath,
wondering if the crack I’d heard was the plaster breaking up or his knuckles.
I’d never heard him raise his voice.

‘Ok, I think we all
just need to calm down here, it’s no one’s fault. We need to talk about this
sensibly before anyone does anything they regret,’ Mandy warned. ‘Shit, sorry
poor choice of phrase as that’s what got us into this fucked up situation to
begin with, but you know what I mean. You both cheated on each other, there’s
equal blame to apportion here.’

‘I didn’t sleep with a
fucking relative of hers,’ he yelled. ‘Don’t tell me we’re even. This is so far
from even I can’t even … FUCK!’ He punched the wall again, three fast hard
hitting jabs and I sobbed again to see blood on his knuckles and the cream
painted wall.

‘Brady, stop,’ I cried.
‘You’ve hurt yourself.’

‘This? This bloodied
hand? You think
this
hurts after what you did last night? This is
nothing,’ he shouted, punching the wall again to prove his point. ‘I could do
this all bloody day and feel nothing. But what you did … Fuck, Lisa. I don’t
know if I can deal with this.’

‘Talk to me,’ I
pleaded. ‘You said nothing would ever come between us, you said we’d drawn a
line, that this was us, for life. We’re
married.
’

‘I honestly never
thought anything could come between us. Hell, even if it had been Roger I’d
have handled it, but … it’s my fucking
dad
, Lisa. My own dad. I feel so
sick and disgusted right now.’

‘You think I don’t feel
the same?’ I whimpered, my whole body shaking with nerves at what he was about
to do.

‘You know what? I can’t
think about how you feel right now. This isn’t about you anymore. I’ve always
put you first, well today that stops. Put yourself in my shoes. If I’d fucked
your mother, would you still want me? The next time we had sex would you be
thinking about how I stuck my dick in her, sucked her nipples or fingered her
backside? Would you be wondering if she was better at sex than you were? Always
fretting and playing it over and over in your mind until it ripped you to
pieces. Would you still want me to lay a single finger on you with images of
that
going through your mind? Because I don’t bloody want to,’ he shot back, his
voice laced with venom. I cringed and shrank back against Mandy. This wasn’t
Brady talking, I’d never seen him act like this, so cold and harsh. ‘Fuck. I’m
sorry,’ he gasped. ‘That was … I can’t help how I’m feeling, Lisa. I just can’t
… I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. If I’m ready to talk. I need some space
from this whole fucked up situation.’ He finally lifted his eyes to mine, a
vortex of emotions swirling through his. For a fraction of a second we held
each other’s gaze as I desperately tried to look for some sign that we were
going to be ok, but then he was gone, the oak door swinging closed behind him.

‘Brady!’ I yelled, snatching
my hand out of Mandy’s as my feet started moving to follow him.

‘Lisa, don’t. Leave
him, he needs time,’ she called desperately behind me. I couldn’t. We’d just
promised through better or worse and right now we were experiencing the worst.
If we couldn’t hold it together, today of all days, how could we ever make it
work? Him leaving me on our wedding day was a big flashing
fucked up couple
neon warning sign. I flung the door open, gathered my dress up in both hands
and ran through the bar, shrugging off Simon’s hand as he tried to stop me,
ignoring my parents who were standing with puzzled looks on their faces.
Running through that orangery with tears streaming down my face, a hundred
confused faces looking at me, was possibly the most humiliating experience of
my life. I caught one of the slender heels of my shoe as I ran up the steps
from the garden to the hotel and went flying, skidding across the marble floor.
I lay there stunned for a moment, my wrists and knees aching from the impact as
I’d tried to stop myself from planting face first into the floor. Proper sobs
shook my body as reality started to set in. Brady was fleeing from me. He
couldn’t get away fast enough. We always ran together, we were a team. He never
left me behind. How was I supposed to run on my own? I heard the sound of shoes
clattering on the floor behind me and hands suddenly grasping my arms to lift
me up. This was my wedding day. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my
life. How had I ended up here? At what point did this heartache become
inevitable?

‘Lisa, are you ok? What
the hell’s going on?’ The voice snapped me out of my daze as Roger appeared in
my blurred vision.

I wasn’t sure if it was
my tears or shock from the fall. I shook my head, unable to form words. I
shrugged him off and started limping along the corridor. I had to stop Brady
from leaving. I heard raised voices behind me. Mandy, Roger and possibly Anita
and my parents. I had no time for them. If I didn’t hurry, I had no time at
all. I bent down, wincing as I tore off my heels and left them in the middle of
the corridor. Ignoring the pain in my legs I started to run, like I’d never run
before. If I didn’t stop him I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him again. By the
time I made it to the grand lobby, Brady was walking down the entrance steps,
towards his car, the door of which was being held open by the valet. I powered
through the pain, ignoring the revolving doors I burst through one of the side
ones, before the doorman even had the chance to reach and open it for me. My heartbeat
was erratic, my breathing harsh and unregulated, lungs burning from exertion.
The valet had closed the car door and Brady was reaching for his seat belt. I
had just seconds to stop him, I’d never make it down the steps to his car.

‘BRADY!’ I screamed,
almost rupturing my vocal cords, not to mention the heart attack I nearly gave
the old lady being helped out of a taxi and everyone else within ear shot. He
slowly turned his head and looked at me sadly as I held my breath waiting for a
response. I nodded and did my best to attempt a smile, trying to tell him that
we were going to be ok, he just needed to come and talk to me. I frowned, he
was looking at me like I was a total stranger. In an instant, he was wheel
spinning out of the driveway without a backwards glance at me. My heart
crumpled, at the same time as my body did. I sank into an inelegant heap on the
top step, aware of all the eyes currently on me, from total strangers who had
no right to be intruding on a very personal moment. I looked down at my dress,
a dress I’d been so excited to be wearing only half an hour ago. A bright red
stain had settled on it and was slowly growing, creeping across the expensive material.
I let out a surprised grunt. I must have really messed up my knee for blood to
soak through all of those delicate layers, which was odd, as I couldn’t feel
any pain there anymore. All of it was centred on my heart. Had he really just
left me? Had I just set a record for the fastest marriage breakup in history?
Surely that wasn’t it? He’d be back once he’d had time to process his thoughts.
He had to come back. We were Brady and Lisa. Mr. & Mrs. Collins.