CHAPTER SIX
DAMIAN
WE’D MADE IT THROUGH THE most pretentious wedding in the history of man. The bride had cried while she said her vows, and had then stopped and proceeded to look bored out of her mind for the rest of the service. When Grant had put the ring on her finger, she’d looked at it and sniffed before turning away with a disappointed look on her face. The whole thing had been a comedy show really, and Tabitha and I had elbowed each other on numerous occasions when we’d failed to keep the volume of our laughs down to zero.
Now, we were back at a table with her parents; her mother wearing the most gaudy hat I’d ever seen in my life. It was about three feet wide and had massive fake roses all over it with sparkly diamante things glued everywhere. She’d pretended to cry with happiness during the ceremony and even now she intermittently sniffed and dabbed at her eyes that were as dry as the desert.
Brett and his parents were pushing their luck. They had come to sit down at the table while the coffee was being drunk, and people were now getting over the overwhelming smell of bullshit from the speeches and the wedding itself.
For the last thirty-seven minutes, I’d had to listen to them reminiscing about the ‘good old days’ which basically consisted of stories of Tabitha and Brett’s relationship. I’d done well to tune them out, but the more they droned on, the more irritated I got because it was impossible to ignore them.
I know I had a nerve being upset about Tabitha having a past, especially given what my job had been up until…shit it was still my job. I hadn’t quit it. Jax could be taking orders from women for Tenderloin as I sat here suffering.
Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out my phone and tapped out a text to him informing him of an immediate change of availability before hitting send and putting it away. I couldn’t face doing anything like that with anyone else ever again.
“And remember how Tabitha came back in smiling with twigs and grass in her hair,” Philippa said through a fake laugh as I tuned back in. “She had mud on her knees and elbows and everyone knew what they’d been up to, but they were so in love that it didn’t matter.”
Tab downed the rest of her wine and reached for mine, downing that too before looking around and grabbing the attention of a waiter with a tray of wine. Taking a glass, she placed it in front of me, before turning back and taking another two which she put in front of herself.
“Or, that one time when…”
I’d hit my limit. “It’s funny, all these stories coming from your mother where you supposedly banged Tab’s brains out, but she’s never spoke of your abilities with your dick in high regard.” I kept the language as formal as I could to mock them further. “In fact, she said that she’d never come with a man until our first night together.” Whoops, slipped.
Brett’s bruised face twisted viciously.
“And when I spoke to some of the chicks that you’d fucked behind Tab’s back, they said that it hadn’t been worth it because your dick was no larger than this.” I held up one of the baby carrots that had fallen off someone’s plate onto the table that hadn’t been cleaned. Lucky coincidence that one. Turning to his mother, I asked the question that I’d thought up during story number one. “Tell me, how do you know how good your son is in bed? I mean, you keep implying it, so you must have an idea, right?”
His mother gasped and grabbed her bag off the table before storming off with her son sliding along behind her.
I was about to lay into her mother when I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Damian Taylor?”
My heart sank as I turned around to face one of the biggest gossips in my parents’ circle of twats.
Pretending not to recognize her, I held my hand out. “Wonderful to meet you. And you are?”
Holding my hand between her thumb and finger like it was a dead rat, she didn’t even give it one full shake before she’d dropped it and was rubbing her hand on her thigh.
“Wilma Bedford, as you well know. I’ve been friends with your parents for the last twenty years,” she sniffed, looking around the room as she spoke no doubt looking for more gossip. When she found none, she turned back to the table. “Or at least, I was. As they’re no longer…” she paused looking for the word. “Eligible, I haven’t seen them.”
I shook my head and went to turn around, hoping that she’d get the hint when the word registered with me and I swung around to face her.
“Eligible?”
“Yes,” she puffed her hair with her hand even though it wouldn’t move a millimeter with the amount of hairspray she had in it. “The case against your father for extortion led to their assets being seized. They’re staying in some cabin that belonged to someone in your family, I believe.”
I wanted to laugh at the justice and karma that had been served to them, but I was aware of the whispers behind me and how still Tab had become.
“I have nothing to do with them now, so your story is lost on me,” I said dismissively, turning back around in my seat and reaching for my wine.
“Of course,” Wilma said, not getting the hint. “You’ve been away from them for years now, after your marriage ended. That poor, poor Kayla,” she tutted, and the grip I had on my wine glass tightened as I heard the gasp from beside me. I hadn’t had the chance to tell Tab about what my family had put me through, and I was ashamed of the marriage as it was, so hearing it like this must have gutted her. “But, you’ve landed on your feet haven’t you. I mean, you won’t have to worry financially being with a Dixon. You might even be able to help your parents out.”
Anything else that she was saying muted in my head as I turned to Tab, begging her with my eyes not to believe a word that the old bag was saying.
The tears that were pouring down her face were a stab to the heart for me. Grabbing her purse, she pushed her seat back and made quickly for the exit with her head down. Not acknowledging anyone, I ran after her.
“Tab!” I said, willing her to slow down, but she just continued walking. “Tabitha, please!’
At that, she spun around and the devastation that I saw on her face made me flinch. Fuck me, I’d fucked up.
“I was going to tell you all of it, but I was embarrassed,” I started.
“You were going to tell me that you were using me for money?” She sneered at me through the tears.
“What? No.” How could she think that?
“Know what, Harry,” her use and emphasis of my Meat Market name was a kick to the balls and a punch to the heart at the same time. “Thank you for your service, but I no longer require you. You’ll still be paid well for everything that you did to me.”
And with that final parting stab, she turned around and walked out of the exit. I’d never felt so cheap, dirty and ashamed in my life.