As Milana Kauffman offers me a glass of champagne, I stare down at her red fingernails and snatch my hand away.
“Hey!” she shouts, stepping in front of me. “Don’t ignore me, Christopher.”
“Move. I don’t have time for this shit.”
Milana grins and steps back a pace, waving a hand down her purple gown. The open-backed plunge dress runs straight to her naval, exposing her shapely breasts and stomach.
“You like?” she asks.
“Lovely. Now move.”
She rolls her eyes. “You still owe me for our canceled date.”
“Not happening,” I tell her. “Ever. I don’t have time for this.”
“You’re not breaking up with me?” she yells, and I feel dozens of eyes turn to us.
“Move,” I hiss, barging past her.
Staring into the corner of the room, I can’t see Bryan now, and I have no idea where Harper is.
“Hey!” Milana grabs my arm again. “You can’t break up with me!”
“Correct,” I sigh, scanning the room. “Because we were never together in the first place. It was just sex. Get over it.”
“You’re going to regret this, Christopher. Whoever you’re fucking is in big trouble when I find her!”
Spotting Maria barging through the crowd, I jog over to her.
“Where’s Harper?” I ask her.
“Bryan,” she gasps, pointing to a fire exit. “He took her outside. He has a knife.”
Telling her to stay inside, my pulse thumps in my ears as I storm toward the door.
“Help me!” I hear Harper scream as I burst outside. “Somebody, please! Help me!”
Following her panicked voice, I spot Bryan dragging her down the street.
“You slimy little fuck,” I mutter, pulling off my shoes and tossing them to the floor.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been this angry as I gain ground behind them.
“Why are you playing so hard to get now, slut?” Bryan cackles. “You used to be such an easy fuck.”
My stomach clenches when I watch him grab her ass.
“Right hand,” I whisper.
He stops and pushes her back to the wall, grabbing her face.
“Right hand again,” I say, arcing my approach to avoid detection.
“That’s enough!” Harper screams, crashing her knee into his useless balls.
Nice shot.
Bryan groans and lifts the knife in his right hand. “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”
“I don’t think she will,” I say, now standing right behind him. He turns to face me and his mouth falls open. “Surprise!”
Stepping forward, I slap his face with an open hand, the sound reverberating in the empty street.
“Oww!” he squeals, dropping the knife. “What the fuck, dude?”
“That was for calling her a bitch. This one is because you made me rip a Dior custom suit.”
“It ain’t ripped?” he moans.
My sleeve tears when I slap his other cheek, and Harper shuffles away as his head crashes into a metal shutter.
“It is now.” I turn to Harper. “You okay?”
Nodding, she looks like a deer caught in headlights as Bryan straightens himself. The sight of her tear-streaked cheeks wraps my knuckles into a fist.
“Oh my God!” Bryan murmurs, his face turning white. “You’re the old dude she’s fucking? Chris Collins?”
“Yup.” I step closer. “It’sme you’ve been hiding from for three days. Which reminds me, this one is for that stunt you tried to pull at the cemetery.”
I smash a right hook straight into his jaw. Harper gasps as Bryan slides down the wall, but I’m far from finished with this guy.
“Get up,” I say.
“Leave it, Chris,” Harper pleads.
Ignoring her, I grab his collar and drag him to his feet. His eyes are glossy as I pin him to the wall and lean close to his ear.
“This one is just because I fucking feel like it,” I hiss.
I send my fist flying into his stomach, holding him in place as his cheeks turn red and he gasps for air.
“What part of your fucked up little brain thinks it’s acceptable to force yourself on women? Never heard of ‘No means no,’ tough guy?”
I slap his face again to wake him up.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Feeling sleepy?”
“Chris! Stop!” Harper yells.
“Stay there,” I tell her, stooping to pick up the knife. I then wrap the handle into Bryan’s left hand. “This next bit is for Harper.”
“She’s all yours!” he shouts. “She’s used goods now anyway!”
“It would help your cause if you just shut the fuck up,” I tell him, wrapping his fingers around the handle. “You usedthis right hand to feel her up, so I think it’s only fair to give it a little reminder.”
Using Bryan’s left hand like my own, I force him to dig the knife into his right palm.
“Wow,” I chuckle. “You have quite the set of lungs on you, tough guy. Ever thought about singing opera?”
With blood congealing around the laceration, I drag the blade down his skin, digging three lines into his palm. He’s too panicked and weak to overpower me, so I continue to give him a free tattoo.
“There.” I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and wipe away the blood. “Not bad, huh?”
“W-what the fuck?” he gasps, staring down at the two letters I’ve carved into his hand.
“Harper’s initials,” I tell him. “Nice little reminder of the last girl you ever did this to. Contact her again or show up within a mile of where she is, and I’ll finish the job. That’s a promise. The only reason you get to go home tonight is because Harper is here.”
I step back as he lets the knife fall to the floor.
“Come on, Harper. Bryan here looks like he needs to take a little nap.” She shuffles toward me in disbelief, and I wrap my hand around her waist. “Sleep well, tough guy. And remember what I said.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” Bryan squeals in pain. “I’m going to have ‘HR’ scarred into my hand for life!”
“Correct!” I yell as I grab the door handle. “Maybe get a job in human resources!”
I wink at a giggling Harper as we step back into the auditorium.
“Here,” Harper says, wrapping an ice pack around my bruised knuckles.
The alumni gala is still bustling, but I sent Gary and his colleague home ten minutes ago. I should never have trusted anyone else to keep her safe. That’s my job.
“You said Bryan tried something at the cemetery?” she asks. “Why were you at the cemetery?”
“Can’t remember,” I say, smirking. “Maybe it’s my age…”
I’m trying not to stare at the way her sparkly red ball gown clings to her stunning figure, but it’s hypnotizing.
“I went to the cemetery yesterday,” she says. “There were fresh flowers on my mom’s grave.”
“That’s nice. Do you want a drink?”
She grabs my hand and asks, “Did you visit my mother’s grave?”
“Why would I do that?” I say, relieved to see Harper’s best friend heading towards us. “Hey, Maria.”
“Hey, Cinders,” she says to me. “You shall go to the ball.”
I frown. “Huh?”
“Shoe joke,” she says, pulling her hand from behind her back. “You left these bad boys outside. They’re worth like five hundred dollars. Considered slapping them on eBay, but you saved Harper, so I changed my mind. Is Bryan dead?”
“No,” Harper says as I slip on my shoes.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.