THIEF: Part 4 (5 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Malone

BOOK: THIEF: Part 4
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Chapter Seven

 

 

“Jesus, Erin, where were you?The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes!”

              I glance across the room at Alex, who thumbs his lips and smiles coyly.He winks, leaving me with Fiona in the foyer, as he heads into the room to take his seat.

              “I got caught up,” I tell her, shrugging.“I’m sorry.Is something wrong?”

              “Well…no,” she admits, then shakes her head.“I’m just nervous, I guess.I’ve been a bridesmaid twice already, and every time, I get stage fright.”She glances in the direction of the event room, converted from the old parlor and library of the mansion.“You know…walking in front of all those people.Everybody staring.”

              “You’ll do fine.”

              She looks back at me, studying my face.Suddenly, her eyes widen.“You were off having sex with Alex!” she hisses, but a smile breaks out.

              “What?”

              “Oh, my God, I knew it!”

              I shush her, looking around for any eavesdroppers.“Keep it down, maybe?I don’t exactly want to broadcast it.”I try to sound serious—a little angry, even—but I can’t help my smile, either.

              Fiona laughs, reaching out to smooth my makeup lines.“Where’d you guys go?Maybe Ned and I could use that love nest during the reception.”

              I think of our little room, practically a closet.All the pillows and soft fabric, the perfect light in the window.Alex’s cologne, my perfume…our scent.The sound of his name bursting from my mouth, as uncontrollable as my orgasm itself.

              That feeling of happiness, just by being alive.

              There’s so much about it I want to tell Fiona about, but I can’t.Not yet, at least.That room is ours, if only for tonight.

              “No dice,” I tell her, laughing.“I might need that secret hideaway again later.”

              “That’s just selfish, Erin.”

              “You’ll live.”

              The wedding planner—a nervous woman named Isa—interrupts our laughter.“Girls, get in your places, please.Where are your groomsmen?”She looks around, spots Killian’s sons and daughters, and nudges us towards them.“Go, go—we’re almost starting.”

              At the rehearsal the day before, when I found out I was paired with Hayes, I’d dreaded this walk.Ever since he found out I wasn’t available, Hayes has treated me with complete disinterest.I wasn’t looking for adoration or anything, but with us about to be related and all, I expected casual friendliness, if nothing else.

              Today, though, as Hayes extends his arm to me and we take our place behind Fiona and Garret, the oldest brother, it doesn’t bother me.The nerves that try to settle in my stomach, as the quartet begins to play and the enormous wooden doors to the parlor open: they don’t get to me, either.

              I’m here.That’s all that matters.

 

 

“It was a beautiful ceremony, Aunt Jane.You looked radiant.”I hug my aunt, accepting her lipstick-stained kiss gratefully, then move to hug my new uncle.

              “Don’t worry,” he says into my ear, over the music, “I’ll take good care of her.”

              “I know you will.”I pull away, waving a noncommittal “goodbye for now” gesture at them, and head into the crowd.The reception is, in fact, themed exactly like New Year’s Eve in Times Square, and just as packed.Through all the shouting, laughing, and music, I can’t even hear myself call Alex’s name when I spot him at the bar.

              He jumps a little when I tap his shoulder, then grins.“Got you a Jane-tini,” he says, raising an eyebrow.The drink he hands me is bright red, with flecks of gold across its surface.Though it looks sweet, it packs a big punch.

              “Wow,” I cough, after my first sip.“This is definitely a Jane-tini, and I don't even know what's in it.”

              Alex nods, then adds, “I figured a little imbibing won’t hurt, just for one night.”

              “Huh?”

              “I said—”

              “No, I heard what you said.What do you mean, won’t hurt?”

              For a second, Alex smiles like he thinks I’m joking.Then, face falling into serious lines, he says, “Your kidneys.”

              “Oh.”Somehow, I’d actually managed to forget about my illness.All day, I’ve been so caught up in surviving, in this electric adrenaline feeling, I managed to forget what I survived in the first place.At least, what I literally survived.

              I set the drink down on the bar, forcing the negative thinking away with a couple mental chants.They don’t really work, so I do the next best thing: grab Alex’s hand and pull him towards the dance floor.

              A slow song begins a few minutes later.I put my arms around Alex’s neck; he puts his around my waist.We sway slowly, only half-dancing.It’s nice to just be close to him.

              “Beautiful ceremony,” he says, as I rest my head on his shoulder.I nod.“What was your favorite part?”

              I laugh, remembering the bride's dramatic song, dedicated to Killian as part of her vows.“Aunt Jane’s musical number.”

              “Mine too.”

              The music goes on, and I shut my eyes, focusing on Alex again.It’s strange to think of how much I trust him, and how unafraid I am to let myself do it.After this summer, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to do that again.

              “Actually,” I say, suddenly, “I changed my mind.”

              “About what?”

              I lift my head, looking at him.“My favorite part.It wasn’t Jane singing—though that’s a close second.”We smirk.“It was seeing all of Killian’s kids together, just looking at their dad and…and being so happy for him.And how happy he was they were all here.”

              “That was really sweet.Fiona’s poem was wonderful.”

              I nod, thinking of the way she teared up at the end.It was a piece about daddy’s girls, and while Fiona and all her sisters, as well as most of the guests, dabbed their eyes with tissues, I’d fought tooth and nail to keep mine back.Somehow, then, I’d done it.But no luck this time.

              “Whoa, whoa—what’s wrong?”Alex holds me out at arm’s length, frightened.“Are you okay?Oh, shit, was it the alcohol—are you sick?”

              “I’m fine,” I say quickly, shaking my head.“I just…”I take a deep breath, shaking the tension from my hands.“It got to me, I guess.”

              “What?”He pauses.“Fiona’s poem?”

              “All of it.Just…seeing how she looked at him.”I hesitate.“How he looked at her.”

              Alex’s face relaxes.He pulls me back against him, stroking my hair.“That’s okay, Erin.It’s okay.”

              We sway like that, in time with the music, until the song’s almost over.I can’t stop thinking about what he just said.

             
It’s okay.

              “No,” I tell him, and shake my head again.I look up at him.“It’s not okay.Because…because I never got that.And I know I said ‘shitty things happen,’ and it’s not a big deal…but it’s huge, when it’s something like that.”I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand, praying no one else has noticed.When I look at him again, I can tell he already knows what I’m about to say.

              “I think I want to find my dad.”

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“We’re leaving in a week,” I tell Fiona, smiling.“Alex has some friends who can help us get his address, but if not, we can always show up at his work.But I want to talk to him on the phone first, I think.”I sip my Diet Coke thoughtfully.“I don’t want to blindside him.”

              She nods, completely rapt.“Wow.You’re really brave, Erin.I don’t know if I could do that.”

              I sigh, staring at the cocktail table we’re sharing.The reception’s thinned out a little, but the dance floor is still packed with bodies.“It is scary,” I confess, staring into the crowd.So many strangers, people I’ve never met and probably won’t see again.My own father’s a stranger; he could be here, or on a sidewalk walking past me, in a store—and I'd never know it.

              “Do you know anything about him?”

              “Just his name.And where he works in Tennessee.”

              She thinks about this for a second.“Better than nothing, right?I mean, it's just a little, but it could be everything you need.”

              I give a small smile.“Right.”

              “Alex is coming with you, too… That’s so sweet.”She tilts her head, and I know she means it.“Not to mention romantic, just deciding on a whim to pick up and go.”

              “Well, that’s Alex’s whole lifestyle, so he’s used to it.And I think it’ll do me good.”

              “You guys are great together.”

              I point to Ned, who’s talking to Alex about his semester abroad in London.“You guys are pretty great yourselves.”

              Fiona nods, then laughs.“Man, who would’ve thought we’d be here right now, you know?I mean, not here, literally—here with boyfriends who don’t suck, I mean.”

              I laugh too, remembering the night we met.Like so much else, it feels like it was years ago, when it fact it’s only been a couple months.

              “Ladies!” Ned calls out, as he and Alex jog over.“It’s almost midnight!”

              Over the deejay platform, a big screen monitor showing the countdown in New York gets brighter.The music fades to silence, promptly replaced by the show’s sound.

              The clock is at twenty seconds.Fiona waves and winks at me as Ned takes her hand, leading her away.

              “May I?” Alex asks, extending his hand.I take it and follow him to the edge of the ballroom, where the crowd isn’t so dense, and lean my back against the front of his body.He loops his arms around me, my hands overtop his.The clock ticks lower and lower, and suddenly a second seems so much longer to me than it really is.

              “Ten…nine…eight…”The crowd chants as one, our voices rising to the high ceilings.At their couple’s table at the front of the room, Aunt Jane and Killian already have a couple Jane-tinis in hand, their arms intertwined, ready and waiting.

              “…seven…six…five…four…”Alex tightens his hold, and I start to spin and face him.Our shouts fade to whispers, counting the numbers to each other, instead of the room.

              “Three,” we whisper, as his face moves to meet mine.“Two.”I tilt my head, our lips almost touching, and, just before the year begins, we close the distance and kiss, the word “one” still on our tongues.

              The room erupts into cheers and screaming around us.I hear champagne popping, noisemakers trumpeting.Some of the rowdier guests pound the tables.It’s quite the show, exactly what my aunt wanted, but I tune it out and focus all of my attention on Alex.I wind my fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp just a little, the way I did earlier in our private getaway.He puts one hand on my shoulders, the other at the small of my back, and pulls me closer.

              “Happy new year, Erin,” he says afterwards, smiling.“I promise—this one will be a lot better.I'll
make
it better.”

              “Happy new year, Alex.”I kiss him again, then slide into a hug.In some ways, it’s more intimate than our kiss; in it, I try to tell him how important he is to me.How I’m not sure I could have survived any of this without him.How much I love him.

              When I open my eyes, barely tall enough to see over Alex’s shoulder, I catch sight of someone standing in the large, open doorway to the foyer.He’s got short, bleached hair and a ratty jean jacket, one foot propped against the doorframe.

              There’s something familiar about him, this stranger.The way his thumbs are hooked through his belt loops.The way his face manages to be both amused and scowling, without changing expressions between the two.

              The way he’s staring right at me, as though we aren’t strangers at all.

              It's Silas, waiting in the doorway. For me.

~~~

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