The Last Dance

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are entirely co-incidental.

Text copyright © 2014 Angelica Chase

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the above author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short experts in a review.

Published by Angelica Chase, Independent Author

Cover Design by Juliana Cabrera,
Jersey Girl Graphics

Editing by Edee M. Fallon,
Mad Spark Editing

Interior Design and Formatting by Juliana Cabrera,
Jersey Girl Graphics

For my love

who loves me unconditionally, challenges me, and catches me when I fall. Thanks for being unbreakable.

I had just hurt her, and it was the last thing I wanted to do. She had already been through enough.

Pulling up to her house, I was determined to make things right. I parked across the street behind a Lexus, recognizing her husband’s car immediately. I’d seen it the last time I was here. I stamped my rage down as I stepped out onto the street. Noticing that the car was still occupied, I approached it quickly. He was staring at the house as if he were afraid of it.

He should be.

I had no time for this bullshit. Violet was inside, alone for the first time since she was attacked. Although she told me her mother was coming, I was unsure if it was the truth or an excuse to keep me away. The look in her eyes when she realized Bryce was mine, the way she studied me as if I was a stranger, had me dropping Bryce off with the neighbor and racing here. I was a man possessed and so close to claiming her, there was no way this clown was fucking it up.

Alex jumped when I tapped on his window. He opened it, eyeing me carefully.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” I said, bending down eye level so he could see me clearly. “You can get the fuck out of here.”

“Pardon?” He looked completely confused as he studied me.

“Alex, right?” I snapped.

“Do I know you?” Alex wiped his face with both hands to cover the fact that he had been crying. I didn’t give a shit.

“I’m Rhys, your replacement.”

Alex looked stunned, and at the same time, a little affronted. My gaze surveyed the inside of his car, noticing a half-empty bottle of bourbon in his passenger seat. His voice was a whisper as he stared at the house. “Is she okay? I saw on the news and I knew her mother would never let me see her in the hospital. They almost killed her?”

“Yes,” I said, my agitation growing with his concern.

“I have to see her.” Alex’s voice shook and I took a step back as he got out of the car. Grabbing his jacket collar, I slammed his body against the car to help him close the door.

“You lost that privilege the day you left the house. You weren’t there to protect her that night, what gives you the fucking right?”

His face contorted in anger as he tried to pull away from me. “She is still
my
wife. I have things I need to say.” My blood boiled as I tightened my grip.

“I should pound your pretty fucking face in for what you did to her. She’s moved on, let it go. It’s not your job to look after her. You gave it away. I took it.” I saw the fear in his eyes as I shoved him back against the car again, his body sinking against my hold.

“You’re right. I have no right to be here.” His face twisted painfully and I let him go.

“I just wanted to see her, make sure she is okay,” he said in his retreat, putting his hand on the car door. He gave up so easily.

He didn’t deserve her.

“You don’t get to want anything when it comes to her. I’m all she needs,” I said possessively.

He simply nodded in agreement and I shook my head in disgust.

Fucking pussy.

I wanted him to do something stupid; any excuse at this point would be a good one.

Alex looked back at the house. “She didn’t deserve what I did. I know that,” he said in a whisper.

“And that’s your cross to bear, not hers,” I said stiffly. “She’s been through enough.”

Alex simply nodded with defeated features as he took one last look at the house.

I felt my phone vibrate as Alex slid inside his car and pulled away. After checking my text, I quickly walked to mine, cursing in frustration. It was late. I had to get back to my son. Relief washed over me when I saw her mother’s car approach and pull in the drive.

Alex didn’t want her; it was his guilt eating him alive. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness and I wasn’t about to let him try for it. He’d never earn it. I would erase him from her completely.

She wouldn’t be alone tonight and that’s all that really mattered, that and the fact that she loved me.

R: I need to see you.

It could have been worse. He could have not responded at all. Then again, needing to see me might not be promising, either. I had told Rhys that I loved him in a text while drunk and angry. Not my finest moment. The problem now was that I was in love with a man I hardly knew. The feeling of unfamiliarity had a great deal to do with the omission that he was a father, and had hid that fact from me. I wasn’t sure if I was longing more for the man who, until recently, seemed to be an open book, had an easygoing demeanor and a matter of fact look at life, whose eyes were filled with sincerity, and had a gentle touch and endless patience. Or if I was pining more for the man whose voice consumed my every thought, sent a shiver down my spine, filled my body with longing and had a hard edge and seemed unreachable. Rhys was both of these men, but how much did I really know about him? I needed to know more before we went any further.

I kicked my mother out early this morning and kept busy by circling my house, taking inventory of the things that were missing as a result of my home invasion. I went shopping and bought a rug to cover the huge bloodstain in my entryway until I could get the floors replaced. I was in the middle of writing a list in the kitchen when I heard a knock at my door. Startled, I jumped where I stood, dropping my list, instantly terrified.

Snap out of it, Vi.

Taking deep breaths, I grabbed the closest thing I could to arm myself—a meat mallet—and walked to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Crete’s Messenger Service.”

Cautiously, I opened the glass door between us and stared at the seemingly harmless man.

“Who is it from?”

He glanced at the package then eyed the meat mallet before turning an irritated look at me.

Yeah, buddy, I’m crazy.

“
Alex Harvell.”

I opened the door wider and signed where he indicated. Not wanting to see his expression as he took in the bruising on my face, I shut the door quickly. I’d made the mistake of thinking it would be an easy trip when I’d gone shopping earlier for the rug, but had caught the attention of everyone there. I was overwhelmed with the help I received while deciding on my purchase, which normally would have been appreciated, but I just wanted to be left alone. After locking the door, I walked into the kitchen then stood staring at the package for a few minutes before quickly making the decision that whatever I was offered, I would accept. I didn’t want a messy divorce, the marriage had been enough. It was a complete and utter failure.

I opened the envelope and saw that the official papers had been drawn. That was fast. I read it carefully. The house would be mine and would be paid in full and titled to me along with my car, and in lieu of alimony, I would get a lump sum. I had to turn the page to see the figure and when I did I froze.

Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars!

Well, a house and car, and close to a million dollars would do, I supposed. I was happy, more than happy, but I couldn’t bring myself to get excited. I called my lawyer and sent him the signed paperwork to be reviewed, with strict instructions to have it completed within the next day or two. I had been toying with an idea and I was now sure I wanted to see it through. I called Molly to ask a favor. I also called my regular doctor and made an appointment to have my neck and face checked the following day.

I had just finished inventory and was folding clothes when my phone pinged.

R: Hi.

V: Hi

R: I can’t stop thinking about you.

V: I was sure you would have your number changed.

R: Don’t regret telling me how you feel.

V: Right now I don’t trust how I feel.

R: I’m calling you.

My phone rang and I picked it up, dreading the conversation.

I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I was upset, Rhys. I was drunk, emotional and scared last night.”

“
You can’t take it back and I don’t want you to.” My heart plummeted at the sound of his voice. His effect on me was overwhelming.

I sighed at the thought that with Rhys, I may never have control. “Fine, I wasn’t taking it back, anyway. I was more or less explaining my behavior.”

“I happen to like it when you get a little crazy. It means you care,” he mused.

“I do, but Rhys, is this really what you want? I feel like I forced myself into your life. And honestly, I feel a little pathetic,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.

“You forget that
I
started this, Violet.
I did,
not you. I need to see you. Can I come over after work?”

I closed my eyes, picturing his hands on my face, feeling his kiss on my lips. I wanted that more than anything.

“Rhys, I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” I could hear his voice twist as he became upset.

I took a deep breath. “Before I passed out last night, I was thinking about the way we started and because of the way I’ve acted, you have every right to keep him from me. Bryce is your priority, as he should be. I’m not upset anymore.”

“And I’m happy about that, but what I’m really interested in is the leaving part,” he said gruffly, becoming more agitated.

“Not for long. Just a week. My friend Molly’s parents own a house in Grand Cayman and I want to get away and … I want to start dating you while I’m gone.”

“That’s kind of difficult, Violet.”

“No, it’s not actually. We can talk every day.”

A long silence followed before he spoke.

“What are you doing? Running?” he snapped. I could tell he was pacing.

“Please don’t get upset. I’m trying to get to know you. If we were in the same room right now, what would we be doing?”

“Fucking … and only because you would beg me to. You don’t have to leave to start dating me. I can keep my hands to myself, Violet. I’m actually quite disciplined in that department.”

My whole body heated at his dismissal of his own need for me. Instead of being perturbed by his statement, it turned me on. I was officially a sick woman.

“I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself. I just really want to go to the Caymans, and according to my lawyer, when I get back, I will be a slightly wealthy divorcee. I need this trip. I want this trip. I think I deserve it. I have a bucket list to write. I want to come back healed and divorced. I don’t want you to look at me now and see that night. I want you to see me whole and without another man’s last name attached to me.”

“I’ll take you the way you are and here,” he insisted, his tone more of disappointment than annoyance. I understood it.

“Sounds like a sweet response, like the right one … but really, you are being selfish,” I noted.

“Fucking A I am,” he said testily. Silence lingered between us. He couldn’t exactly be the demanding beau he wanted to be and I had to keep from chuckling at the thought.

He let out a long breath. “I’ll date you, Violet. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back on my porch, because next time you are there, I won’t let you leave.” The defeat in his voice tugged at my chest.

“That porch is cursed for me as far as I’m concerned. Rhys, I don’t expect you to be a Casanova. I just really want to know the basics like your middle name, favorite football team, and about your son.” I took out my large suitcase and started packing.