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Twenty-Five Years Old
Three Years before the Wedding
Stabbing him was a bad idea.
But it’s not like I’d planned to choose violence when I walked into Seven Seconds nightclub tonight.
“Stupid bitch,” he hisses, clutching his hand over the wound on his stomach.
I roll my eyes. You’d think he was auditioning for a movie role with his dramatics. I’ve seen people lose limbs and act less theatrical. It’s his fault he’s in this pain.
Earlier, he offered to buy me a drink. I declined, as I always do. When I had turned twenty-one, my father had handed me a credit card and instructed me never to allow anyone but him to buy me alcohol.
An hour later, the man cornered me on my walk to the restroom. His breath reeked of liquor, and he slurred his words while offering a drink for a second time. He attempted to push a glass into my hand, insisting I take it, but I refused again.
In response, he grabbed my ass and shoved me into a secluded corner against the wall. My heartbeat raged as I snatched the drink from him, smashed the glass, and stabbed him with a sliver of it.
“You grabbed my ass. I made you bleed.” I shrug and sarcastically smile. “Consider us even.”
When I attempt to step around him, he blocks me.
“I have a better idea to call it even.” He licks his chapped lips.
I wrinkle my nose and go to push him away, but someone beats me to it. He cries out in agony, and his feet scrape against the floor when two guards drag him backward. The guards restrain the man as someone steps in front of them.
My spine stiffens, and the small piece of glass I’ve kept, just in case the man didn’t back off, drops from my fingers.
Benny Marchetti looms in our view.
The nightclub’s lighting isn’t the best, so I can’t make out many details, but I know whoheis. Nearly everyone in this city does.
That’s further proven by the man screaming, his knees buckling, when he sees Benny. His cries attract clubgoers, so two more guards appear, blocking them off.
“I have a better idea.”
I hold my breath, and everyone turns silent when Benny speaks.
“I gut you and watch you bleed to death like the pig you are,” he says, his voice taunting.
I keep my mouth shut, wishing I could disappear into the wall.
“No! No! No!” the man repeats.
Benny rears his fist back and punches the man in the face. He cries out in pain, and blood pours from his nose.
Benny tips his chin toward the men holding the guy back. “Take him to the utility room. I’ll be there shortly.”
The man continues to plead with Benny as he gets hauled away. My ears ring as I scan my surroundings for an escape plan. I find a small opening between two guards and dash in that direction.
I don’t make it far.
My chest caves as I gasp when Benny wraps his hand around my arm and jerks me back into his chest.
The smell of cedar, black cherry, and danger wafts into my space.
Alarm shoots through me when he lowers his mouth to my ear.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he hisses. His deep voice is filled with warning.
