Page 18 of Call You Mine

We’re almost at the front of the altar. The clicking of my heels against the paved trail and the thundering of my heart, vibrate thoroughly in my ears with every slow and calculated step I take. My vision blurs, my mouth goes awfully dry, and my eyes burn as sweat drips down my temples and trickles down in between my breasts.

That’s when I hear him, my brother's best friend Sebastian, murmuring as I walk past them in the second row.

“Well, would you look at that Servite,” Bass says, and from the corner of my eye I catch sight of him patting my brother on the back as he laughs. Their significant others stand on either side of them, holding the children in their arms. However, my brother Ace is a damn statue, standing frozen and gawking in my direction. In our direction. “Karma is a bitch, after all,” Bass continues, but this time when our eyes connect, the air around me turns frigid.

Though it’s Scarlett, my brother’s pregnant wife and the mother of his two-year-old daughter Caeli, who places her arm along his shoulders to calm him as she speaks. “And his name is Damon Drake.”

That wasn’t so bad.

If bad meant good and good meant absolute disaster.

What the hell was I thinking asking Damon to come as my date?

The answer is I wasn’t. I was stuck in a lust induced fog when the sexy fucker stood before staring at me with fuck me eyes, trailing his hands over my body like he had the right to, and putting his lips against me. Even if it may have seemed like an innocent kiss, friend to friend, to take away some of the pain he saw in my eyes, there is absolutely nothing innocent about Damon Drake and the way he touched me.

However, here we are walking arm in arm, from the ceremony to the reception set up on the opposite side of the estate.

The tent covering the tennis court is a brilliant white with a sheer cover on the roof entwined with hundreds of strings of twinkling lights. The curtains draped on the sides, are pleated and tied in the middle with a shiny gold ribbon, giving the expansive space a sense of privacy. On one side is a makeshift bar, fully stocked along with posters of the“His and Hers”cocktails offered for the night, and on the other a brilliant limestone fountain, equipped with bright LED lights flickering from pink to white to a light yellow-gold color, the blush-colored water dripping over the top with bubbles meant to look like champagne. Or is it real champagne?

Given the illustrious nature of the entire event, I wouldn’t doubt it. Stella is getting her dream wedding.

Although the bride and groom have yet to make their awaited entrance as husband and wife, everyone around us is acting like the major attraction is already here. All eyes are on Damon and me, every single one of the thirty people who were in attendance, some I recognize, others I’ve never seen before. In addition, a few others are arriving through the gates surrounding the court, all wearing matching leather jackets and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Though no one is looking at us with as much disdain as my brother Ace, who watches us from across the room with his permanent scowl in place. As part of the bridal party, they’re all headed to the gardens beside the courtyard to take photos before entering the reception. I begged Damon to let me wait at one of the cocktail tables set up along the outside of the tent, but he insisted I come along. I may not be part of the bridal party but as best man’s date, apparently it's all the same.

Though something in me rejoices at the mere thought, he wanted me by his side. I better reel that bitch in quickly before she gets any ideas.

Standing at the edge of the gardens, I nervously fiddle with the diamond cuffed choker around my neck—my favorite piece of jewelry I grabbed before leaving. It was one of the few pieces I owned which held any meaning and I just couldn’t fathom the thought of parting with it. It was a gift from Warren and Willa for my sixteenth birthday. They’d surprised Ace with a brand-new Mercedes G-Wagon while I’d received this necklace, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it cost the same amount.

Five layers of glittering diamonds are linked along a silver chain, then twisted around the edge of a larger ring. It looks more like a cuff for your wrist than a necklace, but it’s beautiful and exactly what I would have chosen if I’d shopped for it myself. I don’t remember ever having a true mother daughter relationship with Willa, not since figuring out at twelve years old the only thing she cared about was herself, but something about the way she looked at me that day, with a look almost resembling affection, made me wish things had been different between us.

Not to mention it was the only thing I could think of to hide the imprint of Enzo’s fingers around my neck. I paired the choker with a black strapless dress I’d purchased this morning, after sneaking out to a small boutique I used to frequent in downtown Hillcrest. The smooth, skin tight fabric hugged every one of my curves and the high slit on the right side ensured no one would look at the cuts scattered along my lower chest I tried my best to cover with makeup. Wearing a low-cut dress was not an option and unfortunately, that’s all I’d brought with me.

I drag myself out of my thoughts, focusing on the group standing on two large cherry blossom trees. Stella and Kai are standing in the middle, with the bridesmaids on his side and the groomsmen on the other. Her best friends Scarlett and Jade stand beside Damon’s sister Ruby, all dressed in the same gorgeous gold dress with black lace accents along the train, whileDamon, Ace, Bass, and Jaxon stand beside Kai in that order matching his all black suit.

My heart aches watching what I’ve missed out on for being such a pretentious bitch my whole life. I missed out on having a group of friends to count on, a family of my own, not blood, but chosen. Instead, here I am alone, no friends, even if I’m better off without the ones I thought were mine, and having to beg a man to pretend to be my date.

Suddenly my phone rings, startling me more than it should have. I’ve been constantly on edge since my arrival, paranoia getting the best of me every second of the day. I reach into my clutch and pull out the phone Damon showed up with this morning.

He’d realized I hadn’t brought one with me and although I was planning to get a new one, he’d done it for me. I couldn’t help but smile when he gave me the box, the newest model iPhone sitting inside, installed and ready to use. Damon frowned, claiming he only got it for me because I couldn’t be without one if he needed to reach me since I was“apparently hiding something from him”. He wasn’t wrong, but that he got me a gift, one necessary for him to ensure I stay safe, made my heart feel all fuzzy and warm.

I’d disposed of the one I brought with me back at Damon’s apartment—a spare I got from one of Enzo’s maids who took pity on me after he came home drunk from a strip club one night. Enzo never knew I had it and I couldn’t get myself to part with it when I left. It was the only way to contact Luke, since he knew I had it. Yet something told me disposing of it was for the best, in case it was traceable and Enzo made me believe otherwise.

I ignore the number I don’t recognize, and slip it back into my purse, but before my gaze shifts back to Damon and his friends, I feel someone walk up behind me.

“I had to make sure it was you before risking coming over to see you.” My heart drops at the sound of her voice, a voice I hadn’t heard in three years and, frankly, never expected to hear again. Tears well in my eyes, anger priming my skin and shooting straight through me. How fucking dare she show up here?

I twist in my heels to face her, and gasp in horror when my eyes meet hers. It’s like staring in a fucking mirror. If said mirror, was one of those distorted ones you typically find in a creepy carnival fun house.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout, not caring who hears me.

She runs her tongue under her bottom lip in the inside of her mouth, a telltale sign she’s about to come at me with one of her snide remarks. She always was a classy bitch. “How is that any way to talk to your mother, darling,” she practically coos, biting her tongue to hold on the real jab she wants to throw out at me. “Besides, I can ask you the same thing, Wynter?”

She spits my name out like an insult, forgetting she’s the bitch who named me after a fucking season. Had she always known I’d be as cruel as the harshest of winters, a volatile storm releasing my fury on those who wronged me? Because right now my darling mother was in my path of destruction and I didn’t have a goddamn care in the world if I took her down with me.

For so long, I blamed her for what happened to me. For lying about who my father was, for abandoning me and leaving me to fend for myself when Wesley died. If she’d have stayed, maybe we could have figured out a way to stop Enzo from claiming me as his prize. Even though in my darkest days, the nights I laid in bed alone with my tormented thoughts, the times I sat in my tub filled to the brim tempted to lie back, and fall beneath the water to an endless sleep, I imagined she’d have sat back and watchedhim take me, instead asking for a reward in return for allowing him to claim me as his.

I’ll admit it was dark to think a mother would be capable of doing that to her own child, but Willa was never a mother to me. Sometimes I wondered why she even had us. Not only did she look more like my older sister, but she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.

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