Impulses (87 page)

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Authors: V.L. Brock

Tags: #Romance, #erotic, #suspense

BOOK: Impulses
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I abruptly spin on my heel to face the being that is leaning against the door, pushing it firmly shut with her back. I discern faint golden highlights in her hair that falls around her shoulders. Even with the black meshing from her headpiece covering her devious, dark eyes, I can still see the scornful glint that emanates.

Fuck.

“Hello, Samantha.”

My already erratic heartbeat hits DEFCON 1. My stomach is knotting painfully, but the rush of adrenaline that floods my system like a tsunami, quashes the discomfort.

“Addison, what the Hell are you doing here? How?”

“I have my ways,” she sneers sanctimoniously.

With each vain step she takes further into the suite, I feel the determination I need to cling on to my inner-strength increase.

She raises the folded paper in the air. “’Sending best wishes and a huge congratulations to, Hayden Wentworth and his bride, Samantha Kennedy on their Wedding Day; may they have a long and happy life together’. You really should have avoided public announcements if you didn’t want any unexpected…surprises.”

Striving not to give her the ammunition that she needs, I inhale and reign in the anger she is inciting. It’s something all abusers want and crave…control, and I refuse to give anybody that control over me again.

She shrugs her shoulders collectedly. Her arms hang at her sides, and her fingertips graze the bronzed flesh of her thighs thanks to the indecent length of her skirt.

“I wanted to personally congratulate the ‘happy couple’.” Her lips upturn into the most bone-chilling, malevolent grin I have ever witnessed on a person. It makes me shudder.

Squaring my shoulders, I hold my head high. “And now you have, you may leave.” I point to the door with my brow.

Guttural giggles leave her throat as she lowers herself into the blue and gold-trim armchair in the corner. She crosses her legs sensuously. I have to give it to the bitch, she maybe vindictive, but she knows how to use her sexuality to her advantage. I can understand why men would sell their right kidney if that is what came of her demands.

“So, Samantha…you are really going to go through with this? Why on, God’s green Earth would you want to spend the rest of your life with only
one
person? And of all people, you choose Hayden? He’s worthless, he’s pathetic, trash,” she scoffs, swinging her long, slender, bronzed leg back-and-forth. “The only mutually exclusive relationship that man has is with his paranoia.”

“No thanks to you,” I retort, my core temperature scaling to boiling point.

She extends her arm directly in front of her body and examines her harlot red nails. “Hmm…what makes you think that you can change him?” she mutters vacantly.

“I don’t need to change him, Addison. I have never changed him; Hayden was the one who changed me.”

“Ah, yes––
Alley
, it seems we aren’t so different after all,” she leers, her words dripping with malice like blood from a knife. Through the meshing that obscures the top half of her face, I watch as her big, smoky eyes narrow wickedly.

Sniggering, I tip my head back before taking a hostile step forward.

“I am nothing like you. I have never undermined a man, I have never wormed my way into someone’s life, make them love me just so I can get my hands on their money––”

“Not money, no. Sex on the other hand…”

With my knuckles drained of their blood, I clench my fist tightly until I feel my nails embedding into my palms. I envision myself towering over her and beating her repeatedly, but I force the image to the back of my mind and concentrate on the meaning of today; it’s my wedding, and Rose’s honoring. I am not allowing a bitch from the past––the bitch that shattered Hayden completely––sully this day.

“Oh, my, God, are you for real?” I mutter with unmasked pity. My brow furrows deeper as I make my way to the center of the room. “You waltz in here uninvited, deride me and my lover, in some feeble attempt to completely ruin our day––”

The door swings open. With the blood gushing through my eardrums, I didn’t even notice anyone knock. Jessie steps inside, closing the door securely. All my attention is focused at the snake in the grass that sits on my chair. I don’t acknowledge Jessie for one second.

“What the Hell is going on in here?”

“You, lady,”––I point my manicure index-finger at Addison scornfully––“are lucky I am in my fucking wedding dress.”

She presses her hand to her chest, feigning offence. “Well, is that anyway to treat a guest?”

“Guest!” I shriek. “Do you even realize how much of a vindictive and desperate bitch you are, Addison? You come here to crash a
wedding
,
the
wedding
of your ex who you took pleasure from abusing. You’re hell-bent on making us all miserable because you can’t grow up and find your own Goddamn happiness. What are you hoping to achieve from this?”

She promptly pushes herself up from the chair and points disdainfully at me. She is a few inches taller than me in her skyscraper heels. “Hayden and I were both happy once,” she hisses.

Shaking my head, I mutter amenably, “I don’t doubt for one moment that you wasn’t, maybe at the beginning. But now, you have to take responsibility, and live the rest of your life knowing that you fucked it up.”

Pursing her lips, beneath the meshing, her eyes blaze with rage. “You have no idea what I have been through––”

“It’s none of my concern. Hayden is my only concern now. I didn’t fall in love with the name, I didn’t fall in love with the clothes he wears or the car he drives. I didn’t fall in love with the business, his money or his inheritance. He may have been damaged, hurt, and fighting to overcome his own demons that you created, but regardless of all that, I fell in love with, Hayden Wentworth, the man. And whether you like it or not, we are happy. After everything we have had to transcend when the fates were against us, we came through, and we got stronger.”

I have to admit, I am taking some form of pleasure in seeing Addison’s jaw working rapidly under her flesh as she glowers at me.

“Now, I have approximately seventy guests, a minister and Hayden waiting for me downstairs. You are more than welcome to stay and watch the man that you dismantled with your emotional and psychological sadistic bullshit, walk away from you and his past as he begins a future with a woman who is worthy of his love and vice-versa. Or, you can go and crawl back under the rock you came from. Either way; this wedding is going ahead.”

She exhales loudly, and peruses the room uncomfortably.

Yeah, not so big now are you?

I peek over at Jessie who watches on in bemusement. “Jess, could you please escort Addison downstairs.”

She snorts and makes her way to my side. With her back faced towards Addison, she whispers in my ear, “Are you sure that’s a good idea, sweetie?”

“Nothing is going to ruin today, Jess. We are the bigger people. Unlike some, I have nothing to be ashamed of,” I state unwavering while glaring at the whore in the miniskirt and heels.

“Okay.” Jessie strolls over the royal blue carpet to open the door.

As Addison turns to follow meekly behind my Maid of Honor, I grab the top of her arm with crippling, intimidating strength and spin her back around.

I lean into her ear.

“You are a cockroach––a parasite that lives off the anguish you create and you are not worth the effort to squash beneath my foot. You say that Hayden was your trash? Well he’s my treasure, and in fifteen minutes, he will be my husband. Be forewarned, Addison, if you ever come near us again, or if I see you anywhere after today, you make sure you turn and walk in the opposite direction, because I won’t be in my wedding dress. Understand?”

Pulling away, I return her malicious, sanctimonious smirk, while her face free falls along with her jaw, and for a moment, I see panic and alarm in her eyes. She thinks it’s acceptable to charge in on my wedding day and insult my fiancé? She thinks I am going to cower away from her like the men she has used and abused? No, I am not a mouse in her lion’s den; you make the decision to insult my lover––my family, then you’re dealing with the toughest fucking lioness in the pride.

I study myself thoroughly in the mirror once more. I am knocked by a sense of Déjà vu as I see the door of the bridal suite being attentively pushed open. Jessie cranes her head around the crack before stepping inside.

I turn around and face my Maid of Honor, grateful that I can now take the time to concentrate on the important details. The floor-length, strapless, crimson dress is flawless on her just like I imagined it would be. Her hair is pulled into a high knot, her bangs swept to the side and held securely with a pin laced with diamonds.

“Oh, sweetie,” she gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

I feel my eyes burn, and my breathing hitches. “Please, don’t, Jess.” I hold my hand up, indicating her to stop what she is about to say before my makeup dissolves under my tears.

Displaying a brilliant white, dazzling smile, she steps toward me. Her warm hand rubs up and down the length of my upper arm. “You’re beguiling. You look magnificent, Sammy.”

“Thank you, Jess.” My smile fades as I glance down at the floor and twiddle my fingers. “Where is she?”

“I have no idea what you had said to her, but she left.”

I offer a relieved sigh, and feel the bowling ball in my gut lighten.

“I have to say, Sammy, you really surprised me.” Jessie recovers my bouquet of red and white roses off the footrest in the corner.

“I did?” With an enormous grin dominating her features, she nods. “Why?”

She swallows harshly. “I have the patience of a saint, Sammy…but even I wanted to sucker punch her.” Handing me my arrangement she resumes, “But she’s gone, and Hayden is waiting for his bride. It’s time, sweetie.”

I gaze at my best friend, the woman who has been my rock, my constant for over five years. A wave of emotion knocks me clearly off my feet; I feel like this is it, the end of an era, like this is the day she renounces all help and future guidance. I feel like I am walking away from her, to be in the arms of my love.

“Don’t cry, sweetie. We don’t have enough tissues.” We giggle through our emotions, and I suppress my tears with a liberal sigh.

“I’m ready, Jess. Let’s do this.”

Red, white and pink silk drapes hang and sweep elegantly in the arc windows of the lounge. Vina Mendez stands at my side at the left doorway that leads onto the lawn, offering supportive smiles and encouraging, soothing words that pierce through my anxiety.

Canon in D begins to reverberate around the room and travels along the miniscule summer breeze. Vina genially nods her head at me.

There’s my cue.

Breathe in…breathe out…

White and red roses are twined around the balustrade as I step onto the veranda. I risk a glimpse at the guests below sat in a theater-style assemblage upon the bottom of the lawn; half of them I have never even met, and only two rows are filled with people from mine and Jess’s family. A red carpet has been rolled out down the aisle, leading from the patio, to my husband-to-be.

Everybody stands and turns in unison as I begin my decent down the curved staircase, feeling like Cinderella walking to the Prince. Hayden vacates his post at the flowered archway between the trees overlooking the vista, and makes his way up the red carpet. He looks dashing in his black suit, crimson vest and black satin tie; sexy, yet dark and mysterious.

He’s already waiting for me by the time I lower myself off the last step. One look at him and both the aggravating ball of tension in my gut and my nerves dissipate. He smiles a heart stopping smile, and catches his lower lip between his teeth. His hair is slicked back effortlessly.

“You look stunning.”

“And you’re dashing,” I retort.

Having no one to give me away, Hayden offers me the crook of his arm, and brings me to my wedding.

The walk down the aisle lasts forever. Every stride we take to close the distance is irrelevant; we are moving, but not getting anywhere. When we reach the summit of the red carpet, I hand my arrangement to Jessie who air-kisses each of my cheeks, before turning back to the Reverend Johnson. I glimpse up at Hayden, and I catch him staring down at me with an expression that really should be illegal to display in public, especially before a Reverend.

Mustering every nuance of strength I have, I endeavor to kerb my upsurge of emotions during the ceremony, disbelief, awe and sense of being utterly overwhelmed. I hold my breath captive as Reverend Johnson enquires to any objections.

I peek up at Hayden and offer a relieved smile when it is only the birdsong that steals the silence.

“Samantha, you may recite your vows.”

I accept the simple white-gold band. Holding Hayden’s hand, I slip it on his ring finger.

“In the presence of everyone today, I Samantha Kennedy, take you, Hayden Wentworth to be my husband. I promise to laugh with you in times of joy, and cry with you in times of sorrow. To find you in the darkness, and guide you back into the light. There is little to say that you haven’t already heard, and little to give that is not already freely given to you. As I have given my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep. You revived my hopes. You revived my dreams. You revived my ability to love again.”

“Hayden, you may recite your vows.”

Hayden seizes a matching white-gold band from Matt and takes my hand. He slips the cold metal onto my finger.

“I, Hayden Wentworth, do pledge to you, Samantha Kennedy, my love for as long as we live. What I possess in this world, I give to you. I will keep you and hold you, comfort and tend you, protect you and shelter you, for the remaining days of my life. To love you in word and deed, to do the hard work of making now into always. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I don’t yet know. I give you my hand. I give you my love. I give you myself. You revived my hopes. You revived my dreams. You revived my ability to love again.”

“Before the people here today, you have pledged your commitment to each other. I bid you both a long and happy marriage. I now pronounce you, husband and wife together. You may kiss your bride.”

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