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That’s the second time I have seen blood on him.
Why?
“Where did you go?”
He just smirks, and when he does, I see the thing I’ve heard about Whiskey—that while he is an amazing businessman, he is also very, very deadly.
“That was blood,” I whisper. He stands, I do the same. We walk out for our first dance; he grips me to him and pulls me in tight. His hands on my waist.
“Why was there blood?” I ask him.
“Do you want the truth?” I nod, and he leans in so close that his chin is on my neck.
“I just killed someone who thought they could sneak around on me, right now my men are removing his body.”
I pull back, the shock on my face. He laughs, leans in, and kisses me on the lips. I know people are watching so I kiss him back quickly and pull away. He follows, and we go outside the cold air hitting me.
“Did you really just kill someone?”
He smirks.
“Of course I did, usually that’s my men’s job, but I had to blow off some steam like the old days. Who the fuck did you think you were marrying?” I stand there, unable to say a word. “Goodnight, wife.”
He shuts the door behind me.
And I’m left standing at our wedding, in my wedding dress, all alone.
Emma comes over as planned, and then she comes the next day as well, until she has to go back to work. I, on the other hand, have taken the week off. That, as it stands, was probably a mistake. I should have gone straight back to work, instead of living this life. His life, in his house.
What kind of life is this going to be? Not one I chose, that’s for sure, at least I still have my business.
My week consists of me hanging around the house watching Netflix and ordering as much bad takeaway as I can fit in my stomach.
Not once do I see or hear from him.
The weeks start to fall away fast once I return to work.
It’s been close to a month now since I’ve seen Whiskey, since we’ve been married, and I’m glad it’s going fast, but it’s a lonely existence. I hate this house and being stuck in it.
When my father pops around for unexpected visits, which he’s done twice, I lie telling him Whiskey’s at work, when in reality I have no idea where he is.
Today though, today’s a good day.
We have a band booked, and recently they hit number one worldwide.
“I would offer to buy you a drink…” I turn to the lead drummer of one of America’s biggest bands. Shane’s hair is long, his lip pierced, and in his mouth hangs a cigarette. Not lit.
“Sorry?” I say confused.
He isn’t talking to me, is he?
“You’re beautiful, and I want to take you out. Where should we go?” he asks me. The rest of the band members look my way, and my face reddens.
“I’m married,” I say, spitting it out and hating myself for it.
“But…are you?” Shane steps closer, smelling like cigarettes and bad regrets.
I want him.
