One (29 page)

I give a small nod.
Bill called yesterday. He'd contacted the FBI. They were sending
agents over, but in the meanwhile, Bill needed information from me: a
map of the location, entry and exit points, how many people were in
the compound, names of people, etc. Thinking about what I'll have to
relive makes me anxious again, and Pax promises to slip me some wine
to help calm my anxiety.

We enter the country
club and it's as if we've entered a different world. Every person
including the doorman is dressed to the nines, donning gloves and
even a cravat. The theme is Hollywood glamour and it comes complete
with a red carpet, cameras and several news stations. The walkway is
huge with a vaulted ceiling decorated with glittering fake diamonds
and a gigantic chandelier that could double as a spaceship for little
green aliens.

"Wow," I
whisper to Pax. I'm wearing the black dress that he bought me earlier
even though he's offered several times to buy me a new one for the
occasion. I don't budge though. I feel beautiful in this dress and
what's the point of buying another one? Chances are I'd only wear it
once and never wear it again.

When we enter I observe
right away that Pax is treated like a celebrity with people asking
for autographs, taking pictures and clamoring for attention. Both men
and women squeeze between us, itching to get closer to him. Pax is a
gentleman. He's polite to everyone, but he holds my hands tight and
refuses to let me go anywhere other than next to him. Some part of me
knows he's still worried about the threat of Braidon, but another
part of me is hopeful that he likes having me nearby, that maybe he
enjoys my body next to his. I certainly enjoy
his
body next to
mine.

Within minutes of being
there, a beautiful woman with blood red lips asks how much I paid to
the charity in order to be his date. She thinks he'd been auctioned
off and offered me double what I paid to have him for the rest of the
night. Pax's mouth quirks in amusement at her assumption, but I feel
a little sick to my stomach. This is the first public event Pax has
taken me to and people are thinking I
bought
my time with him?
My embarrassment is enough to make me want to leave.

Pax, however, has other
ideas. He kisses me soundly on the mouth, declaring me the most
beautiful date in the world. It's dramatic, a blatant lie, and
completely un-Pax like, but I get the impression some of the women
here need that. They don't understand subtlety even if it flies into
their perfectly sprayed hair and makes a nest there. I try not to
smile as the image flickers in my head.

"Reid," Mrs.
Aberthy's low feminine voice alerts us to her presence. "So glad
to see you again."

"Mrs. Aberthy."
Pax greets, hugging her.

"Did you like your
little surprise?" she winks, referring to the movie. She steps
back to gaze at his face.

He smiles so perfectly
that I catch my breath. "Yes. It was a great surprise."

"We meant every
word of it."

"You all almost
made me blush."

"Almost? What
would
it take to make you blush, m'boy?" Mrs. Patterson's
low cackle drifts into our ears.

"Well, ma'am, if
anyone were to figure it out, I know it'd probably be you."

The mild flirting
should be disgusting, but Pax delivers it with just the right touch
of amusement and respect that it works for him and doesn't cause the
rest of us to want to barf.

"Oh, hush you
Casanova!" Her eyes are glittering with approval. "Mark my
words, if I wasn't older than your grandmother we'd be somewhere else
right now instead of in this stuffy room with even stuffier people."
She probably thinks she's whispering, but her voice carries through
and several people shoot looks in our direction.

"Mrs. Patterson,
keep your voice down!" Mrs. Aberthy whispers, looking mortified.
"These
stuffy
people are bent on giving us money and if
you continue to insult them this event will be for nothing,"
Mrs. Aberthy mutters from the corner of her lips. She laughs loudly
after to cover up anything someone might hear.

Mrs. Patterson rolls
her eyes. "I call it how it is, dearie. People are so stuffy at
fundraisers. We're advocating life here not a damn funeral. Live a
little! Get drunk! Spend money!" She waves her arms crazily in
the air. I can't help but smile. I can see how she's sustained the
organization for so long.

Mrs. Aberthy shakes her
head, looking around nervously. "Come," she says, taking
Pax by the elbow. "You need to take a picture with our beautiful
spokesmodel. It's good for public relations," she explains. It
sounds to me like she just wants Pax to get away from an entirely too
honest Mrs. Patterson.

Pax shoots me an
apologetic glance. "Jules will come with me-"

"No," I
interrupt when I see Mrs. Aberthy start to frown. "It's okay.
Really I can stay here with Mrs. Patterson." It doesn't sound
like a bad deal. She reminds me a little bit of Grandma with her
unapologetic ways. I smile, nodding toward the noisy clicks of
cameras. "You need to go take pictures, Pax. They're here to see
you."

"And hopefully
after they've seen you, they'll be more willing to open their pockets
for us," Mrs. Aberthy reminds him when she sees his gaze stay
intently on me. In that moment I know Pax would opt out if I asked
him to; it's in his eyes, in the way his mouth curves down ever so
slightly in a scowl. It's also in that moment that my heart skips,
reminding me just how hard I'm falling for this incredible man.

"
Go
,"
I tell Pax, touching his cheek with my hand. "Go use that
gorgeous Paxton beauty for good," I attempt to tease him.

He steps closer,
murmuring, "Right now it's for good, but later tonight there
will be many
naughty
things happening." His sultry words
send a shiver of anticipation down my spine, and if the building
wasn't air-conditioned, I might have fainted right there. The
sweltering promise in his eyes briefly distinguishes any
disappointment I might be feeling, and I watch him walk away with a
dazed smile on my lips.

"Young lady, that
one is a keeper," Mrs. Patterson comments.

Don't I know it.

Instantly, the crowd
envelops Pax as he makes his way to the podium. His tall muscular
form is confident as he takes the steps two at a time. People are
waiting there for him and he shakes a man's hand before kissing the
cheeks of an older woman. Then another woman steps forward, and I
can't see anything anymore. Pax's towering form blocks her petite
one. Someone steps in front of me and my view of the podium is
obstructed. I crane my head, but it's no use. I think about moving,
but the floor is so packed my small form would be pushed out of the
crowd in moments.

Suddenly, there's an
eruption of cheers. It's a mixture of applause and excited voices. It
sounds like something's happening. The clicks from the camera grow
louder confirming my suspicions. Someone whistles from behind me.

A feminine voice
sighs," What I wouldn't give to be
her
."

I freeze.
What is
she talking about?
Some primal female instinct is warning me
away. My whole body seems to have turned into glass. If someone
bumped into me now I might fall, or maybe shatter with all the
heaviness my body suddenly feels. I will the man in front of me to
move away. I will his knees to touch the ground. I will his head to
become white, invisible and threadbare.

The crowd yells louder.
"Harder," a drunken male voice calls out. "Do it
harder!"

The man in front moves
away.

I can't shake my gaze.
My eyes are burning the sight into my head. I want to cry. I want to
shout. I want to break something into a million pieces.

But I don't do any of
that.

I watch Pax continue to
kiss Alaina.

I watch her wrap
herself around him. I watch him let her.

This is her revenge.

I'm a tornado of
feelings.

Anger. Jealousy. Hurt.
Betrayal.

I even feel a glimmer
of hope that what I saw wasn't real.

But I hear the crowd. I
see the smiles.

I see people taking out
their checkbooks.

Pax and Alaina are the
two most gorgeous people anyone's ever seen. They're together.
Kissing. It's a fairytale. It makes you believe in beauty and young
love, and the man who overcame tragedy to find his princess. It's
beautiful.

And it'll cost you a
hundred bucks.

This isn't real,
I try to tell myself. He's doing this for money.
Just like he let
me ride him for money?
A snide voice inside comments. I blink
furiously at the stinging in my eyes. I'm angry with myself for
caring. I'm angry I came.

I'm angry that Alaina
looks perfect next to Pax.

Without thinking I whip
around.

"Dearie!" I
hear Mrs. Patterson call for me. "Stop! Come back!"

I'm not sure what I'm
doing or even where I'm going. I'm humiliated. The whole room saw Pax
and I arrive together. Now the whole room is looking at Alaina and
Pax.
Kissing
. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe. Suddenly, the
lights and the cameras and the exquisitely dressed people are too
confining.

My short heels are easy
to walk in and I reach the enormous double doors within moments of
fleeing. It's an exit.
Perfect.
The door closes loudly from
behind as I run out, not caring if people see me leave. Maybe there's
a reasonable explanation, but at this moment
I don't care.
He's kissing my enemy. I've never thought of Alaina like that before,
but at this second, that's what she is to me: an enemy. And she wants
Pax.

How does she know him?
Why did he let this happen? Why does she hate me? The questions swirl
in my head, each one louder than the next. The stinging in my eyes
manifest into tears and my cheeks are wet with them.

There's this thick
dense ache inside. When Grandma died I felt hollow, void of anything.
Right now, I feel anything but empty. I feel rage and jealousy and
confusion, and all three whirl inside, squeezed to feel every part of
my heart. It's such as small organ compared to the rest of me, but at
this moment it's all I feel. I don't register my legs walking across
the parking lot. I don't register the noise around me. I don't
register the cold air that suddenly picks up as if something is
following me.

All I see is Pax and
Alaina.

All I feel is anguish.

All I sense is my own
heart beating faster with my emotions.

This must be karma,
I think. I've only ever thought of Grandma and myself. When she died,
my thoughts centered on myself, on doing things that would ensure
my
survival: how to seek justice for her, how to use Braidon's obsession
for my cause, how to get out of Minnesota, how to survive when I did.
I've been selfish. I
am
selfish.

Karma's a bitch.

"Jules!" I
hear heavy footsteps pounding on the pavement. "Wait!" His
voice is grating to my ears, physically hurting me.
Don't turn
around,
I tell myself.
Don't turn around!
I quicken my
steps. I don't want to hear what he has to say. Nothing can justify
what I saw.
Nothing
.

Pax grabs me, clasping
my elbow and whips me around. "Jules! What are you doing? You
shouldn't be out here alone. It isn't safe-"

"Safe?" I
hiss. I can't remember ever being so angry. "You kiss
her
,
and now you're worried about
me
? It doesn't work that way."
I shake my head.

"Listen," he
pleads. "What you saw, it wasn't real. She-"

"Oh, it was real
all right," I snap, the image of them kissing swimming around in
my head like a whirlpool.

"I didn't know it
was coming. She-" Abruptly, he stops.

"She what?" I
shrug his hand off, watching his face. "She
forced
you?
Because we both know that's a lie, Pax. No woman can
force
a
two hundred pound man of pure muscle to do anything."

He opens his mouth, but
no sounds come out. I feel my heart shattering, each piece breaking
off slowly and painfully.
I shouldn't have trusted him,
I
realize as tears prick my eyes. I'd hoped he was different, thought
he was different. He'd pursue me so diligently, lulling me into
believing that what we had was real. He seemed too perfect to be
true. That should've been a red flag.
I did this to myself,
I
think sadly. I didn't want to be alone anymore and I let him in. I
gave him the power to hurt me.

I take a step back, my
fists clenched to my sides. "You've met Alaina before Pax. You
know
her. What is she to you?" My voice is hollow. I
don’t want to hear the answer, but I need to know. I need it like
water.

Pax's hands are at his
sides. He looks afraid to touch me. "She's nothing."

"Wrong!" I
shout. "She isn't 'nothing'! Don't lie to me.
What is she to
you?
"

"Nothing!" he
yells back. He looks angry and frustrated. The stress from my
situation and the lack of sleep is catching up to him, too. I
suddenly notice the bags under his eyes. Have they been there all
along?

"Fucking liar!"
I scream, wanting so badly to hit him, to hurt him the way he's
hurting me inside.

"I'm not lying!"
He insists. He clenches his jaw angrily. He's trying to calm himself
down. I can't let it happen. I can't let him control himself enough
to think of the right words to say to me, to make me believe in him
again.

"Is she your
mistress?" I accuse, stepping forward. "Your slut? Your
plaything? Do you two laugh about me at night? How I fell so easily
for your charm?" I snarl. Another idea pops into my head. "Or
is she a victim like me? Did you play her, too? See how many girls
you can get in the sack in a semester? You fucking dog!" I yell,
unable to control a single tear that slips from my eye.