B0161IZ63U (A) (42 page)

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Authors: Trevion Burns

BOOK: B0161IZ63U (A)
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Kelly visibly clutched Jack’s hands.  “Take thee, Jack.”

From next to Lila, her lesbian date leaned in.  “Is it me… Or is this the most uncomfortable fucking ceremony you’ve ever been to?”

Lila couldn’t even answer Chelsea.  Her friend was right.  She knew the groom well, however, and the look she saw on his face right then was one she didn’t like.

Lila’s eyes traveled to Chase, who was the only groomsman. Their eyes met and Chase’s eyebrows lifted, his eyes going wide.

Yep, he knew something was off too.

The minister looked to Jack, prompting him to repeat his words.  “I, Jack.”

“I can’t,” Jack croaked.

A gasp vibrated across the church.

Chelsea grabbed fierce hold of Lila’s leg, eyes wide.

From the altar, Chase didn’t seem surprised, at all. He was the only one.

Gasps continued filling the space.  Each time one died down, another was right there on its heels, taking its place.  Guests shifted in their seats, mouths dropped, big and wide. Stunned conversation immediately commenced.

Without another word, Jack stumbled off the altar, and then jetted down the steps, unbuttoning his jacket as he made a beeline for the church doors.

“Jack!” Kelly screamed after him, stomping her foot.  Petals tumbled from her white bouquet and fluttered to the floor as she curled her hands into fists at her sides. Next to her, the minister was dumbfounded, cradling his Bible to his chest.  Kelly’s face went blood red.  “Jack Almeida!”

Jack didn’t stop moving, in fact, he sped up, thundering down the isle while loosening his tie. Everybody turned, and every pair of eyes followed with each pew he passed.  His eyes met Lila’s, but he didn’t stop.

For a moment, everyone was frozen in shock.

It wasn’t until Jack threw the church doors open, sending it awash with light, that everyone finally seemed to accept what was happening.

Kelly tossed her bouquet and lifted her dress with wild eyes, racing down the steps of the altar after Jack.  It was only after she began hurtling down the isle, kicking her white heels off as she went, that guests began to stand and follow.

The groom was ditching the wedding.

The
seventh
wedding that Kelly Hannigan had failed to complete.

This shit was better than cable, and they were all primed to tune in.

 

--

 

Jack couldn’t breathe, even as he ripped off his tie and tossed it on the church steps.  Even as he tore the buttons of his shirt open, all the way down to the middle of his chest.

He couldn’t
breathe
.

He needed to get the hell out of there.  He’d known it for a long time.

As he dashed down the steps outside the church, sunlight slapping at his face, he didn’t even take a moment to appreciate the heat on his cheeks.  The air he felt like he hadn’t breathed in months.  The freedom.

He couldn’t appreciate any of it, because he wasn’t free yet.

He could hear her screaming after him, but he didn’t look back.

He fingered his car keys out of his pocket, and then realized he hadn’t driven himself there.  He and Chase had arrived by white limo, per Kelly’s insistence.

As he made it to the last few steps, he heard Kelly’s hollers growing closer. He heard the, slightly less intense, voices of the church guests as they filed in behind her.  Still refusing to look back, his eyes searched the area, desperate to seal his escape.

If running out on his wedding wasn’t sign enough that it was time for Jack Almeida to get the hell out of that miserable town, the sight of a yellow cab turning a corner and moving down the church’s street surely was.

He whistled, loud and clear, already feeling at home for the first time in months when the cab’s tires screeched against the asphalt, jolting to a rapid halt.

He jetted into the street, even as the sound of Kelly shrieking after him rang in his ears.  Even as the shocked mummers of the wedding goers grew louder and louder behind him.

He raced for that yellow cab.

He didn’t look back.

Not even after he’d opened the door and climbed into the backseat.

He slammed it shut behind him, and he could breathe again.

His lips parted, sucking in the new air as if it would be his last chance.

The old Indian man in the drivers seat turned and caught his eye, cradling a hand on the passenger’s side headrest.

“Where to?” His accent was thick.

Jack met his eyes.  “Airport.”

“No bags?”

“No.”

Sensing the short tone, the driver pulled away, just in time to avoid the fury of Kelly’s fists on the window as she raced into the middle of the street.

The driver watched her chase the cab from the rearview, imagining her white dress must have been getting destroyed as she dragged it along on the asphalt.  Black tears raced down her cheeks, and she looked downright homicidal.  Soon, she lost steam, ran out of breath, and as the cab continued to move away, she became nothing but a speck of white in the rearview before she vanished from sight completely.

The driver’s wide, curious eyes moved to Jack in the rearview.  Dressed to the nines, he was clearly the groom, deserter of the poor girl who’d just destroyed her dress in her attempt to chase him down, and was currently in his own world.

Jack stared out of the passenger side window as they drove, never once looking back.  He thought of Kelly and waited for the sadness, the regret, and the confusion.

None of it came.

Not until Lila’s face popped into his brain.

He slammed his eyes shut.

Halfway to the airport, the driver couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Where you off to?” he asked.

Jack’s hard brown eyes met the driver’s in the rearview mirror, and he gave the only answer that made sense. 

It was the only answer that would ever make sense for Jack Octavio Almeida.

“Manhattan,” he said.  “And make it quick.”

 

 

Will Jack Almeida ever find love?

Find out soon in the final chapter of the Almeida Brother’s Trilogy:

 

Lightening Strikes

1

“Ladies and gentlemen, our forward boarding door is now closed.  If you plan to use a mobile device during flight, now’s the time to make sure that device is set to airplane mode…”

Jack Almeida’s head fell back against the headrest of his first class window seat, his eyes slamming closed in relief.  For the first time since he’d sat down, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

The boarding door was officially closed, and he was officially a runaway groom.

An hour earlier, he’d left his blonde bride-to-be, Kelly Hannigan, standing alone at the altar as he zoomed out of the church’s double doors. After flagging down a cab outside, he’d managed to make a quick escape before Kelly could catch him and choke him to death with the gray bow tie he’d abandoned on the church steps.

From the moment he’d taken his seat on the aircraft, he’d been plagued with terrifying images of Kelly stomping onto the plane with the bottom of her wedding dress covered in tar, fisting a machete that she planned to take straight to his skull.

Now that the boarding door was closed, those terrifying thoughts were, officially, never going to become a reality.

He was truly free.

The moment he closed his eyes, he knew that he wasn’t.  Not at all.  He’d escaped Kelly, but was still owned by the one woman who’d plagued his thoughts since the moment he’d met her.  

Lila James was alive and well in his head, and he knew her face wouldn’t be making an exit any time soon.

She’d infiltrated his senses too deeply, claimed too many parts of him.  Parts that she still owned.

She’d broken his heart.

Before that day, Jack thought he’d been well acquainted with heartbreak. From his many high school sweethearts, old girlfriends, and unrequited loves, he thought he’d experienced more than his fair share of romantic failures in his past--his fair share of heartbreak.

No.

This was heartbreak. 

Not being able to take one deep breath without feeling like a match had been lit in both his lungs, making him question whether he could go on living, at all.

He threw his head back on the seat, closed his eyes, and prayed he could sleep through the entire flight.  Hopefully, Lila would spare him the torture of invading his dreams.

As the flight attendants made their final announcements before pushback, the floor at Jack’s seat suddenly shook.  It caused his eyes to fly open, just in time to see a woman plopping into the empty seat next to him with unnecessary force, breathless, like she’d just run a marathon.

He nearly screamed at his terrible luck. He’d been looking forward to having the entire isle to himself.  That was officially shot to shit.

His eyes instantly went to the woman in distain, suspecting that she’d gotten this seat on standby.  Cambridge to New York was a route frequented by businessmen. It was one of the airline’s most lucrative, and first class seats were usually an easy sell--at a premium rate.  No way this woman could afford the ticket price on her own.  She’d gotten on the plane at the last second, probably having waited for a gate agent to clear a seat for her. 

Lucky for her, this particular flight was uncharacteristically empty, so she’d lucked out with a free upgrade to the last open seat in first class.  He wondered if she was a flight attendant or a friend of one.

If she was grateful for the upgrade, she didn’t show it.  She took the seat with a huff, sealing her status as the only black woman in first class that evening.  She didn’t seem to notice that she was utterly surrounded by old white men, old white men who were currently in the process of leering at her curvy body.

Even Jack found his eyes falling helplessly to the dip in her black cami, noticing her dark brown skin was gleaming with sweat.  Her heaving breasts were on full display, and a long, silver cross necklace swung between the plump globes.  A forest of tiny black curls sprang out of her head at all angles, leading in a million different spirally directions down to her womanly collarbones, so thick that it hid her face from his view. Her top was cut short, giving just a hint of her tight bellybutton before it disappeared past the waistband of a pair of burgundy leather pants. 

He wondered who’d cleared this standby for first class with her midriff in full view, dressed like a vampire slayer. He waited for her to produce a wooden stake from the back of her leather pants, realizing it might actually be nice if she just went ahead and stabbed him right in the heart, putting him out of his misery for good.

He cradled an elbow on his armrest at the window, covering his lips with his fingers.  Some part of him wanted to look away before she noticed him taking her in, but he couldn’t force himself to.

She threw her bag down, kicking it under the seat with unnecessary force, and then let out a disgusted sound.

This time, Jack did find the will to look away. She was the kind of person who made every dramatic, displeased noise in existence while kicking their feet, hoping that some kind stranger would place a soothing hand on her shoulder and ask if everything was okay.

Jack was not the one.  He resented tantrums even when they were coming from small children.  From grown women, he despised them.

He immediately looked away from her and out of the window with a roll of his eyes. 

She made a frustrated sound, again.

Jack refused to bite.

He didn’t even turn to look at her.

“This airline is such a fucking joke,” she growled.

He breathed deeply.  This woman was refusing to be ignored.  He pretended to be fascinated by the ramp agent on the taxiway below, waving two orange sticks as the plane pushed back, hoping she would take the hint and leave him the hell alone.

“I’m Nina.”

He jammed his eyes shut and had to remind himself that the woman next to him was
not
responsible for the terrible day he’d just had, or his broken heart. 

Was she annoying the shit out of him?  Yes.  But she hadn’t caused his pain.

So he decided not to be the cause of hers.

He turned to her, met her brown eyes for the first time, and immediately hated her.

She reminded him of Lila.

“Jack.”  He went to turn away, but she spoke before he could.

“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

He met her eyes, again.  “I hope it gets better for you.”  He gave her the back of his head, again, hearing her scoff over his shoulder.

“Rude,” she mumbled, just loudly enough to make sure he heard.

He didn’t take her bait, and when she didn’t say another word for several minutes, he breathed in relief, laying his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

They were airborne before he knew it.  Soon, the seatbelt sign extinguished, accompanied by a ding, and the Captain made his
30,000
feet announcement. 

Jack informed the flight attendant that he wouldn’t be eating or drinking, and then closed his eyes with a sigh, longing for the nap he’d so desperately needed.

Minutes later, the Captain came on the intercom just as Jack was finally falling away from the world, disappearing into his dreams.  The old P.A. system made the Captain’s words sound grainy, but the words still chilled his bones.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Captain speaking.  Unfortunately, there’s lightening in the New York area that we hadn’t anticipated.  For the safety of everyone on the aircraft… we have no choice but to divert to Pittsburgh.”

Groans of horror emitted from every passenger on the plane, so loud and succinct that Jack was sure he could even hear the displeased moans from the last row of coach.

Idiots.  As if the airline had decided to send lightening flashing in the area? Just to piss everyone off?  The crew wanted to go home just as badly as they all did, but there was nothing they could do to change the weather.  Would they rather the Captain charge on and fly through a lightening storm, sending them all careening to the ground?  To certain death?

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