Chapter Thirteen

Tessa

Roman’s filthy words about tying me to his headboard do a number on my nerves for the rest of the evening. I try to avoid his sultry gaze, and succeed for the most part, but every so often, he catches my eye, and his message is clear. He has plans for me. By the time we’ve served dinner, my hands are shaking.

I’d meant to plate servings of the dinner for the four of us, but some of the clients come back for seconds and I serve the last of everything by the end of the evening. Roman solves the dilemma by taking us out to eat at a little Italian trattoria downtown.

Over dinner, Roman takes my hand and slides the ring back on my finger. Claire sighs. Damon looks incredulous.

“Who would have thought it?” Claire says.

Damon stares at the ring for a long moment. “Not me.”

“Tessa and I were meant for each other,” Roman says, smiling at me. “It was fate.”

Warmth washes over me. No one in my life has ever looked at me the way he does. I want to believe everything about this, but part of me can’t let go of my doubt. I’ve never had anyone want me like he seems to want me. I’m afraid that I’ll wake up and this will all be just a dream. I’ll still be alone, but the dream will have shown me exactly what I can’t have. What will never be mine.

Over dinner, Claire talks excitedly about a wedding she went to a few weeks ago at a nearby boutique hotel. I don’t know what a boutique hotel is, but I don’t want to ask. If Chelsea were here, I could get the scoop from her without feeling stupid. With a jolt, I realize that I haven’t spoken to her since I got the text from Brendon.

While everyone orders dessert, I grab my phone and unblock her number, but turn the volume off. I worry if she’s okay. If she and Brendon got into an argument, there wouldn’t be anyone there to stick up for Chelsea.

As we get up to leave, I check my phone again. I’d fretted that there would be a hundred missed calls in the last half-hour. My imagination paints all sorts of terrible scenarios, of Chelsea hurt or in the hospital. But there aren’t any calls from her, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Tessa, you and I should go check out Le Rev,” Claire says as we step outside. “We could talk to their caterer and set a date.”

“Isn’t the groom supposed to be involved?” Roman asks.

“Yeah, sounds like a good time,” Damon scoffs. “Can I come?”

Claire ignores her brothers, not missing a beat. “In fact, I could pick you up, and we could go for a girls’ lunch. It would be so much fun.”

Roman and I walk, hand in hand, with Damon and Claire beside us. Suddenly, Roman tightens his grip and pulls me back. A man materializes from the shadows.

“And I know the best little dress shop,” Claire adds. Just as she’s about to tell us about the shop, Damon shoves her behind him.

“The fuck,” he growls when another man steps into the shadows.

“What do you want?” Roman asks.

The first man steps into the light of a streetlamp and his companion follows. My breath freezes inside my chest. It’s Brendon with a man I don’t recognize, a guy that’s every bit as repulsive. Both look disheveled and have a wild, crazed look in their eye.

“I followed you from the Com Center, you little cunt.”

Roman releases my hand, and steps closer. “You don’t talk to her. If you have something to say, you say it to me.”

“Oh, heck, that’s Brendon,” Claire mutters.

It dawns on me that Claire and Damon and Roman have known the details of my life for quite a while. I’m shocked, but my mind isn’t exactly working as quickly as it usually does. Brendon’s come to cause trouble. He looks wasted and so does his friend.

“Chelsea left me,” Brendon snarls. “And she said it was because you told her I wasn’t good enough for her.”

My skin prickles. My mouth is dry and my throat tight. I think about Chelsea. She’s a mess. She might not even be a great friend, but I understand why. She’s gotten used by every guy she’s ever gone out with. She thinks she doesn’t deserve better and something inside me wants to hurt Brendon and every other guy who treated Chelsea like an easy target.

Another man appears from the shadows, a smaller version of Brendon and his friend, with a glassier, even more deranged look in his eye. His shoulder jerks as he walks, like it’s attached to a string that someone’s yanking each time he takes a step. The three men look like something out of a nightmare.

The rage inside me wars with a terrifying foreboding.

I’m just waiting for one of them to pull a weapon.

Roman slips off his jacket and holds it out for me to take. I hold it to my chest. Brendon’s two companions stare at Roman as if it’s just now dawning on them how big he is. They take a few steps back. Distantly, I hear Claire on the phone calling 911 and speaking to an operator.

The two companions hear her too and step back into the shadows.

Go away, Brendon. Go away…

I’m trying to will him to leave with his friends, if they are, in fact, leaving. Brendon glances over his shoulder and grimaces. Brendon is alone now, but he’s not backing down.

“Why did you have to go tell Chelsea shit about me, Tessa?” His voice is an octave higher than normal. He laughs.

“He’s high on something,” Damon mutters.

But Roman isn’t paying attention. He narrows the distance between him and Brendon. His hands flex and curl into fists. “You hurt her.”

“Bitch had it coming.”

Roman moves closer to Brendon, stopping a few paces away.

I want to scream out. Urge him to get away.

Brendon scoffs. He lunges, aiming his fist at Roman’s face. Roman steps to the side and shakes his head.

Roman circles Brendon. “Tell her you’re sorry. You won’t do it again and you’re leaving town in the morning.”

Brendon screws up his face with confusion. “Not happening, motherfucker.”

The two men appear once more, this time carrying baseball bats. The sound of distant sirens floats in the air. Damon mutters a soft curse. Roman follows with a few words about amateurs. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. The baseball bats make my blood run cold but both Damon and Roman seem to be amused.

Brendon lurches forward.

Roman’s fist shoots out, connects with Brendon’s jaw, and Brendon collapses to the ground. His head hits the concrete with a hideous crack. He doesn’t move. Damon’s beside Roman almost immediately. Brendon’s thugs raise their bats, but neither has a chance to use their weapons. Both Damon and Roman make short work of them, and an instant later, three men lay sprawled on the ground. None of them move.

Both Damon and Roman seethe with anger, but Claire looks at me with an expression that’s almost bored. She shrugs a shoulder and a smile curves her lips.

“Welcome to the family.”