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Slowly, I look around. It’s like watching a scene in slow motion, but without any volume. The drug addict’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. An older woman who’s probably Prim’s mother appears to have fainted, while an older man grabs my elbow, trying to drag me from the altar. But I ignore them. I ignore everyone except Prim. The groom-to-be, the parents, and even the officiant melt away because none of them matter. It’s only my girl that matters, and only her voice that I want to hear.
12
Prim
I look at Barry through tear-filled eyes, hoping he’s not a mirage. God knows my mind is in denial about the wedding so it might just be playing tricks on me.
Could I be so far gone that I’m seeing things? Am I literally going insane at this point?
My man doesn’t look like his usual put-together self, but nobody’s ever appeared more handsome to me. His black hair is flying everywhere, and his clothing’s askew as he pants, that broad chest heaving up and down.
Through the haze of my mind, I hear Samuel yelling and although my groom’s standing next to me, it sounds like his voice is coming through a tunnel. I can’t make out his words, only that he’s very angry.
But Barry meets my eyes again.
“Please Prim,” he begs in a low voice while holding his arms out. “Come away with me. You don’t belong here.” That blue gaze flashes and suddenly, I know that my home is with this man. He’s right - I don’t belong here, in a church, getting married to someone I neither know nor love. Instead, I belong in the arms of Barry Childers and with a broken sob, I launch myself at the gorgeous billionaire as he pulls me close, hushing into my hair.
“Shhh,” he soothes as our surroundings descend into utter chaos. “You’re going to be fine, Prim. Everything’s going to be fine.”
My tears flow freely, staining the front of his shirt. This man is real, and he came for me. I wind my arms around his neck, burrowing my face in against his strong neck.
I can hear gasps and murmurs from the pews, but it doesn’t matter. There’s the faint keen of someone screaming, and it sounds like Samuel’s mom, Marianne Coleman.
“How dare you come here and disrupt the ceremony?” she screeches. “Leave this church or I’m calling security! Primrose, get back here and stand by my son at the altar. His problems aren’t that bad. Sammy, you’re clean now right? RIGHT?”
I almost laugh. Does she really think that I’m going to marry her son? Even if I wanted to marry Samuel, and I don’t, too much has happened to resume the ceremony now.
“We need to go,” I say to my beloved in an urgent voice. Barry looks around at the madhouse that surrounds us, and the skin around his eyes tightens. Then in a swift movement, he bends and picks me up under my legs, like I weigh nothing. Without looking back, he strides down the aisle at a quick pace and then out the doors of the church.
The weather is lovely, and my man rushes across the tarmac in a flash before opening the door to his sports car and depositing me inside. My dress is practically unmanageable. There’s so much tulle that it seems to cover the windshield, but I merely laugh.
Barry laughs too, his blue eyes twinkling.
“We’ll manage, sweetheart,” he growls while getting in the other side. “Somehow, some way.” Then he revs the vehicle and we peel out of the parking lot, breaking multiple speed limits along the way. But as we get on the highway, I know I have to come clean because there’s one last thing that I haven’t revealed.
“Barry,” I begin, my voice trembling.
The handsome man looks at me sideways before putting a big hand on my thigh.
“What is it, sweet pea?” he growls. “You can tell me anything.”
I take a deep breath, trying to summon my courage.
“Well, thank you for saving me,” I say in a breathy voice, “and by the way, I love you.”
He nods while shooting me a grin.
“I never thought I’d hear those words from you Prim, but I adore you as well, sweetheart. Shit, we’ve had some misunderstandings but that’s in our past, you hear? We will work out whatever we need to work out, and it will take as long as it takes, but you belong to me now. You’re mine,” he says in a possessive tone, those blue eyes flashing.
My skin heats as my cheeks flush, and a warm feeling crawls up my chest. This is right. I do belong to the billionaire, and here, in this speeding car after escaping my wedding, it’s never been more true. But I still have to tell him my news, and I swallow hard.
