What a cunt.
“Yo, sit the fuck down so people stop staring this way.” The little bird next to me pulls at my jacket, and I go willingly back to the seat.
“Give me some of your drink, or I’ll reach between your tits and grab it myself.”
“That’s assault, dick.” She reaches in, screws off the top, and I go to take it, but she puts it to her lips and chugs the last drop. When she pulls the flask away from her lips, she turns to me. “All gone. Now fuck off and find your own.”
Goddammit! I look back to Lilly.
Her vows are finished, and Dale is now saying his.
How could she?
Who the fuck does she think she is using that word in her vows? Especially knowing there was a chance I would attend the ceremony.
“You’re grunting. Stop it. People are looking.”
Fuck, this bitch is annoying. I turn and notice her white dress is way big. I mean, I saw the length when she walked up the stairs, and it was dragging behind her, but damn, it swims on her.
“You couldn’t find something that fits?” I grumble at her.
“You can’t shut your fucking mouth long enough to have a sensible thought, can you?” she grumbles back.
Touché.
I hear that word again, and my eyes fly to the front of the room. Lilly only glances my way one more time, her eyes checking the room to try to hide the fact she is staring at me for my reaction, and before I know it, I’m standing and walking out.
She used that word.
A word that meant something to us.
Did she invite me to do this and rub it in?
What a bitch.
While walking, I check back over my shoulder and know the moment Lilly’s eyes find mine because she smiles, then she beams at her now husband before he kisses her.
No one notices me leave.
I wonder if he knows he’s kissing the mouth that just uttered our safe word.
She always was a cunning little minx.
But this is a whole new level of deviousness.
Two
Kalilah
I shouldn’t be here.
I should leave.
But…food. And I’m more than a little drunk.
What can I say? Weddings do that to me. Maybe it’s all the organza and champagne-colored table clothes, crystal glasses, and shimmering silverware. Or the fake smiles of the guests who are offering their congratulations, but in their own lives, they are fucking the secretary or drinking gin at ten in the morning just to get through the day. It could also be something else I don’t want to dwell on.
The waitress is weaving through the guests while holding a tray full of food, so I reach over and take more than a couple of shrimp canapes before I turn around. And that’s when I spot him again. He’s standing in front of the bride. The squeezed fists by his sides are at odds with the slightly disinterested, slightly polite expression on his face. I get the distinct impression he has a mouthful to say but is keeping quiet either for the bride’s sake—there are a bunch of people standing around waiting to congratulate the bride—or because he’s waiting for the right moment. Good or bad. Somehow, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who will take anyone’s feelings into account.
I wonder who he is.
I have a feeling he’s from the bride’s side, but how exactly?
He was definitely upset when she read her vows, but then he left.
Do they have a history?
I start moving toward them. My head is tilted down when I reach them so I can listen to what they’re saying. Lifting my hand to put some more food in my mouth, I’m almost run over by a hulking man.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter as the food is smashed into the side of my mouth instead of going inside it.
“You have such a foul mouth for a lady.” I raise my head to a man whose eyes are so dark they look almost completely black.
“Who said I was a lady?”
“Is this your date?” the bride asks him. Shit.
“You don’t know her?” the stranger asks.
The bride gives me a once-over and narrows her eyes. “No, I don’t.” She pauses. “Who invited you?”
“I did,” the stranger says, his gaze firmly fixed on me, as the bride’s eyebrows squeeze together in confusion. You and me both, girl. He read me way too fast for my liking. But before the bride can utter another word, he turns back to her. “I know what you did, Lilly. Does your husband know you used our safe word in your wedding vows?”
If that food I’d eaten earlier landed in my mouth, I probably would have choked on it right then and there. The bride, also now known as Lilly, side-eyes me, her cheeks red, before she leans into him. “I didn’t—”
He tsks at her, effectively cutting her off.
“You may be able to lie to him, but not me. You know better than that.” Her hands start to fidget with the skirt of her dress, and I almost feel bad for her, but I have a feeling what he’s saying is true and possibly the reason he stormed out of the ceremony.
Just as she goes to speak, her husband walks up and places his arm around her back, cuddling her.
She straightens, and the stranger smiles.
“Kyson, it’s good to see you.” The husband offers him his hand, and Kyson looks at it like it might burn him. The cogs are turning in his head—should he or shouldn’t he—but then he reaches out and shakes it before he pulls back and slides his hand into his pocket.
“Congrats are in order, I guess,” Kyson says.
“Yes, now if you would excuse me, I need to take my wife.” The husband looks behind him at someone else, clearly wanting his wife away from Kyson. Not that I blame him. Kyson is very attractive. Cocky as well.
“Be careful with that one…” Kyson’s jaw clenches. “She’s feisty.”
The bride pales at his words, and I stand there smiling as the newlyweds walk off with a single, worry-filled backward glance from the bride.
Then he says, “You.” Kyson is in front of me. Way too close for comfort. “Do you sneak into weddings often?”
I go to turn away, but he catches my wrist, and I pale. He should not be touching me. Quickly, before I can even think, I lift my foot and kick out, landing a direct hit on my intended target—the spot between his legs. He drops my hand and cups his balls, and before I even worry about possible consequences, I’m hurrying out of there.
His eyes track me, but I don’t care.
I need out.
I shouldn’t have come.
But I was hungry.
And hunger makes you do silly shit.
“Miss…” one of the dreary-suited guys with a walkie-talkie calls out. I don’t stop until I’m outside, where I kick these ridiculous shoes off and start running.
This is something I have experience with. I ran away from my hometown months ago, but I had money then. I swear I did. But when you can’t find a job and don’t want to give the government any personal information, you run and you hide, and now steal.
Is it really stealing, though? Especially if they have the means to replace it.
Because I don’t—
Okay, yes, it is stealing. But I do try to justify it to myself, not that it works well, but I have figured out an easy way to get a full stomach.