Page 14 of Bang

Trying to comb my hair with my fingers is almost pointless after all the knots created from Beck fisting the long strands. I shake my head at myself in the mirror, and my euphoria-driven smile finally wavers. Moving isn’t a good idea as dizziness overtakes me again. I’ve never been drunk before, but I’m guessing this is what intoxication feels like. Too many shots, not enough food. The alcohol’s hit me fast and hard, and I have to lean against the wall to stay upright as I leave the guest bedroom to find him.

I shouldn’t have told him I was fine and to go make his call. I really thought I was okay, but now I need him. Deep breathing through the panic bubbling inside me, I keep going. Fuzzy people blur past me as I stumble down the hallway, and I squint once I reach the doorway, searching for him in the haze. He said he’d be in the kitchen, and Beck never lies. And I never thought he cheats either. Until now. Until her.

A freight train roars through my ears as I take in his betrayal. He leans into a woman’s ear, whispering as she smiles and nods, excited and enthusiastic about whatever he’s telling her. Ecstatic to be where I should be. Where I used to be. Where I want to be.

My chest and my stomach battle as to which aches more, and I spin away. Or at least I try to. Gravity wins, and I collapse to my knees. Now as physically weak as I am mentally. I’ve never thought I’d run away from my problems—I’ve never been afraid to confront issues straight on. But tonight I’m not as resilient as normal with the booze flooding through me. I refuse to let him see me break down, and I don’t trust myself to hold back tears as devastated as I am. I’d rather crawl than cry.

Embarrassed from the humiliating truth, I hug the plaster as I creep across the tile. More distorted bodies wave in my perimeter, but I ignore them. Even disregarding the deep voice asking me if I’m all right. I keep going until I reach the handle to the basement door and somehow find the strength to pull myself up. Holding on even as I sway, I push the wood and keep going as the door swings open and I land face first on the carpeted steps.

Stunned from the unexpected fall, I lie still. Waiting for pain to start throbbing through my body. Luckily nothing hurts except for my broken heart. I slowly lift up. Hands then knees. Gasping a sob from the reminder of being in the same position earlier today with the only man I’ve ever loved. Who I thought only ever loved me. My fingers wrap around the smooth banister, the slick black metal cold under my fingertips, and I rush down the stairs. I wobble through a game room crammed full of retro arcade games and a gorgeous pool table that I know Beck enjoys sometimes.

Or so I thought. Doubt pummels me again. Probably all the times he said he was visiting his brother, he was with her. The tequila from earlier threatens to come up from the idea, and I swallow the bitter liquid back down. I refuse to vomit in this wonderful home. If I can just get some fresh air, I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to think since I can’t seem to gather my thoughts with the fuzziness engulfing me.

I shove against the doors leading out to the pool area yet they won’t budge. My fingers shake as I fiddle with the handle. Of course they’re locked. I really am out of my mind. Once I figure out how to finally twist and lift the metal flap both sides swing open and I suck in a cool breath, relishing the oxygen to my squeezing chest. My head clears a little but my mind still spins. Almost as much as my body. Faltering on the textured stone, my ankle twists, and I hit the hard ground again. Agony pulses in my thigh, but I ignore the injury and keep moving. With the only solution for escape to kick off my stilettos, I rip apart the clasps and scoop up my shoes from the lanai.

I have to get away from this house. I have to get away from all these people. I have to get away from him.

Bright lights suddenly engulf me as I run, and I put my hand up to shield my eyes against the blinding rays. At least twelve men point their guns at me as I reel in the glaring illumination. Reality consumes me. This is how I’m going to die.

“Eden!”

Beck.

My husband’s going to be the one to kill me. But he doesn’t sound mad. No, not mad at all.

He sounds scared.

For the first time ever, my dangerous, deadly, deranged mob boss husband sounds frightened. I slowly twist around to face him. He looks as terrified as he sounds. I’m just as shaken and my heels smash against the driveway when I no longer have the strength to grip the straps anymore.

He steps forward, and the beams instantly fade and the rifles lower before footsteps clatter away from us. Leaving us alone. Which is what I used to love and now I loathe.

He rushes me, and I instantly put my hands up, protecting myself. “Touch me and I’ll scream.”

Fury burns in his expression as well as his grip as he yanks me to him. “My wife doesn’t tell me no.”

“You have no right to call me that!”

I’m being ridiculous, and I know it. But I hurt too bad not to levy the same anger back at him. Not that he probably cares. All of his overprotectiveness has been nothing but a lie. He manhandles me into the house, my short legs barely keeping up with his as he hustles me along. Well I’m through letting him tell me what to do, where I can go, what I can be. “Leave me alone!”

“Never!”

Shock lines Patrick’s face when we step inside the basement. He’s never seen us argue. We’ve never fought—not once in our entire marriage. Not until now because I finally know the horrible truth. I struggle uselessly against Beck’s grasp and of course his bodyguard does nothing to help me.

“What in the fuck is going on Eden?” He shakes me hard. Attempting and failing to settle me down, when I can’t seem to make sense of anything but my fear. “You’re crawling on the fucking floor and trying to run away?”

“I hate being yours. I hate being your wife. I hate being your fool.”

The rage from my insults explodes across his face as scarlet as if I hit him. I pant against his chest while he stares down at me. A tornado of emotions I don’t recognize spin on his face. Finally, he releases me and steps back. He talks to Patrick rather than me. “Stay with her until I come back.”

With labored breathing he speaks slowly. His voice is so low and guttural I can barely hear the words buried in the ferocity. He’s really lost it—almost as much as I have knowing he’s going to keep me down here. “I’m leaving too.”

In less than a heartbeat, he’s on me again. Strong fingers squeeze my face as we pant in each other’s mouths he’s so close. “The fuck you are baby girl.”

I shake my head from his loving pet name and almost crumple again. Staggering backward to the huge beige sofa, I grab onto the thick cushioned back to keep upright. “Why are you going upstairs? Are you going to get your girlfriend?”

Beck’s gaze bores into me before flicking to Patrick. As if wondering if the bodyguard thinks the same thing he does. He shrugs his shoulders, just as perplexed as his boss. Just as lost as me.

“You’re out of your god damn beautiful mind if you think I’d ever fucking cheat on you.”