Page 88 of Hot As Ice

Looking around surreptitiously, I’m relieved that Joe is nowhere to be found. A coward like him wouldn’t stick around. Nonetheless, his goal was to scare me, and he succeeded. He’s stalking me and doing a good job of it.

I don’t know how he knows where I am all the time, but even if I went to the cops, how would I prove it? Joe has the upper hand and he knows it.

I know I could tell Hunter, but then what?

He’ll probably lock me up in his penthouse and never let me leave.

I pick up my lemonade in its crystal glass and take a sip. Tonight, I want to enjoy the party. Later, I’ll have to figure out how to handle Joe.

twenty-seven

hunter

THE PARTY IS going off without a hitch so far.

I thought I would be on edge, or anxious, or even angry as fuck, but instead I feel…strangely relaxed and not really giving a fuck about anything.

Detached, I guess.

Memories of my mother float through my mind every once in a while. I couldn’t help but bring her up in the pool house with Stevie. I shouldn’t have though. Every time I do, it stirs up emotions I don’t know how to deal with.

I never processed her death. I never processed any of it. I buried it. But you can bury something like that for only so long before it crawls back out and wraps its bony fingers around your throat. People keep congratulating me on my father’s marriage, as if I give a shit about it, and I have to accept it with a smile and a thank you. I want to fucking die. Especially when they mention that I have a new mom now.

I do not have a new mom. And I never will.

Celeste is only nine fucking years older than me. That’s ridiculous. It should be illegal. I couldn’t be more grateful that my friends are here, and even better, that Stevie is by my side. I don’t know if it’s her smile or her scent or her energy, or all of the above, but she grounds me. It doesn’t hurt that after the party I’m taking her back to my place and stripping her naked and keeping her up all night.

It’ll be my reward for keeping my shit together tonight.

Stevie grabs my wrist suddenly. “I think the music is about to start,” she says, eyes sparkling. I turn my head toward the stage. Sure enough, the musicians have taken their places. A Black man with slicked-back hair stands before the mic, which is one of those retro-style silver ones. He’s wearing a crisp white suit. The other musicians are dressed in black.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he booms, easily commanding everyone’s attention. “Welcome to Celeste and Benjamin’s magical night. They are so thrilled that you could all be here to celebrate their love. I’d like to invite them to the dance floor for their first dance as man and wife.”

The music starts playing and my father leads Celeste onto the dance floor. Stevie puts her hand on my thigh and leans forward, looking mesmerized. Her fingers play with the delicate gold chain around her neck. A lot of the other women seem equally taken by the newlyweds’ first dance.

I try to tune it all out.

Then I pay attention to the actual song. It’s Stevie Wonder’s “You Are The Sunshine Of My Life.” My mom used to sing it to me sometimes when putting me to bed. Or hum it in the mornings while making me breakfast. I haven’t heard it since she passed.

Any hope of staying detached is gone instantly.

I am homicidal.

Clenching my fist, I take deep breaths through my nose. Celeste most likely chose the song for their first dance. It’s probably just an unlucky coincidence. But tell that to the emotions roiling through me. I wish I could get up and leave, but it would send a weird message. I have to suck it up.

Beside me, Stevie has hearts in her eyes as she watches the happy couple dancing underneath the fairy lights. It’s always fascinated me how things can look versus how they really are. The decorations are beautiful, the bride is glowing, the groom looks proud. And, yeah, not all of it is fake. But the groom’s son wants to kill someone, and the groom is literally a killer.

Their dance ends, and I slightly unclench my jaw. The singer invites other couples onto the dance floor as the band starts up another Motown classic. I take Stevie’s hand and lead her to the dance floor. She feels so good, so right in my arms. My body relaxes further when she winds her arms around my neck.

I smile down at her, burying my emotions as deep as I can. I just want to enjoy this moment with my beautiful girl, and not think about anything else.

“Did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?” I say, enjoying the blush that spreads across her cheeks.

“No. I don’t think so.” She smiles.

“You look gorgeous.”

She bites her lip and looks up at me shyly through her lashes. “Thank you.”