Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Enough, Ward. It’s your wedding day. Stay focused.
I pull my laptop over when it dings and see a message from the dealership. I reply, telling them to have Ava’s wedding present delivered to Lusso. “What time is it?” I ask again, despite having my own watch on. And a laptop in front of me.
“Just gone ten.”
I sigh, pushing my laptop away and brushing a hand down my face.
“Bit different to last time, eh?”
I look at John. He was there but not invited. Hovering on the edge of the church grounds with Uncle Carmichael watching as I went through the motions, my moves robotic, my words emotionless, my body soulless.
My heart beats faster and has me rising to my feet, more agitated than ever before. “You mean because I actually want to marry this woman?” I ask as I make my way toward the door, deciding another run is my only option with Elizabeth keeping guard of Ava. I march past John and jog down the corridor.
“Calm down,” John calls. His tone has taken on an edge of concern.
“I’m fine.” I break out into a full sprint before I reach the entrance to The Manor and resist the urge to glance up the stairs as I do. I hear the shout of our wedding planner calling after me, but I keep up my pace, my legs going like pistons as I hit the gravel driveway.
Run.
Just . . . run.
The sun is warm on my face, the countryside air fresh, but my damn mind is still racing, and now it’s also flooded with painful reminders of my past. Carmichael. Drink. Lauren . . . A beautiful little blond-haired girl.
Why haven’t you told her about me, Daddy?
I skid to a stop in front of a tree, breathless—and not because of the run. “It’s hurts,” I say to thin air and the rustling trees.
And you’re scared she’ll think you won’t be a good dad?
I take in air, my lungs burning. And that.
I pull back my fist in temper. “Fuck,” I roar, just managing to refrain from burying my hand in the trunk of the tree. My forehead meets the bark instead, the backs of my eyes pricking with old tears.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
You can never have happiness. You don’t deserve happiness.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, turning on the spot, taking in the grounds surrounding me. Beautiful grounds. Miles of perfect greenery. The Manor, majestic and handsome, the hub of pleasure for hundreds.
And the beginning of my end.
I rest back against the tree, needing the support, and close my eyes, trying to chase away the memories.
* * *
“Maybe ease off on the alcohol, Jesse,” Uncle Carmichael says. “There’s no fun to be had when you wake up the next morning and can’t remember a damn thing.” He rubs my shoulder as I rub my sore head. “Appreciate what it can offer but respect it. It would be all too easy to succumb to the addiction of sex and alcohol.”
* * *
Fuck.
I sprint off, passing many cars driving up to The Manor, some staff who crane their necks as I run in the opposite direction, not even acknowledging them with a raised hand or nod. I’m focused firmly forward, chasing away unwanted thoughts, my legs carrying me so fast I can’t feel them. I zigzag from one side of the driveway to the other, trying to lengthen the journey that will take me to the gates, the gravel crushing harshly under my pounding feet.
A car horn starts a chorus of short and long honks in the distance, and I force my eyes up to see Sam’s Porsche headed toward me. I don’t slow down, but he does, until he comes to a stop in front of me.
“My man.” He whacks his car into reverse and slams his foot on the accelerator to flank me. “Doing a runner?” he asks, flicking his eyes between me and the rearview mirror.
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” I pant, maintaining my speed. I’m trying to chase away the remaining demons. “Ava’s being guarded so I’m having to find other means of distraction from—”
“Your nerves?”
“I’m not fucking nervous.” I should just go into full-blown trample all over Elizabeth’s prim arse. I thought I could do this, to pacify Ava and her need to pacify her mother. But, fuck me, I feel like my heart is ready to explode. Or stop. “Kate’s here,” I say, taking my eye off the road for the first time to look at Sam. I’m glad I did. I definitely detected a fleeting wave of caution. “Everything all right?”
“Not really,” he admits for the first time, my cheeky mate’s constant smile nowhere in sight. “She’s here but not here.”
“Have you asked her what’s up?” I feel like shit. Guilty. I know exactly what’s up, and I feel like I should tell him.