Page 66 of Past Due

Besian saw the small crowd huddling at the end of the hall to his left. The guards who had been tasked with watching Rina and Marley avoided all eye contact as he passed. Rina and her friends stood outside the door, all of them crying. When his niece spotted him, she hugged him and sobbed against his neck. “I’m so sorry!”

“Hush,” he said gently. Peeling her off, he pushed her toward Luka. “Go to your brother.”

Steeling himself for the worst, Besian stepped into the supply room. Glass crunched under his feet. The metallic tang of blood filled the air. A man slumped against the wall held a wad of bar towels against his shoulder and neck, catching the blood that oozed from the wound. His right hand hung limply at his side, and Besian guessed the nerves and muscles had been severed. There was another towel between the back of his head and the wall. The man, obviously drunk and woozy from his injury, begged for mercy and cried for his mother.

His lip curling at the disgusting excuse for a man, Besian swept the room with his gaze, seeing first Stefana embraced by a glowering Darko. When he found Marley, his heart stuttered painfully. Blood spray had dried on her neck and cheek, and her right hand and lower arm were stained with dark blood. There was a bar towel around her hand, no doubt covering an injury from the glass bottle. Her mascara had smeared under her eyes, and glittery eyeshadow had dripped down her cheek, carried by tears and her fingers.

His desperate need to hold and comfort her was quickly replaced by a stab of betrayal and jealousy when he saw that she was holding another man’s hand. Not just any man. Him. The Spaniard.

Andres sat in a chair with his leg propped up on a crate. Someone had placed a large bag of ice over his obviously swollen knee, and the man was clearly in pain from his injury. Besian glanced back at the door and noticed the splintered frame and broken handle.

When Besian’s accusing gaze clashed with Marley’s terrified one, she glanced away, all but confirming her guilt. Was this what Rina was apologizing for? For knowing that her soon-to-be aunt was meeting another man? For knowing that Besian was about to be made a fool in front of everyone?

Rage ignited low in his belly. He felt suddenly stupid and foolish. How had he ever convinced himself a woman like Marley would ever be happy with a man like him? That she could love someone like him?

He silently cursed his idiocy. Of course, she had accepted his proposal without hesitation! He had scared her by revealing the existence of the hit. She feared for her life and wanted—needed—the protection he offered.

“Come here,” Besian ordered, his voice low and warning.

Marley gulped, letting go of the Spaniard’s hand, and crossing the short distance between them. She trembled in front of him, and he was torn between yelling at her and comforting her. “B?”

Ignoring her soft entreaty, he looked down at her hand and took her wrist, lifting her arm for a closer inspection. He peeled away the towel and examined the cut between her forefinger and thumb. “This needs stitches.”

He glanced back at the doorway where Zec hovered. “Take her to the hospital.”

“What about Andres?” Marley had the gall to ask. “He’s hurt.”

Besian gritted his teeth and glared at the handsome bastard who had stolen Marley right out from underneath him.

As if sensing there was about to be an explosion of emotion, Zec intervened. “I’ll take him, too.” He avoided Besian’s angry glare as he helped Andres to his feet. “I’ll take Marley to the house.”

Besian nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Marley stared at him as if he were a stranger. Her eyes watered with unshed tears, and her lower lip wobbled. Refusing to let her whine and beg and embarrass them both, he stepped close enough to bring his lips to her ear. In a harsh whisper only she could hear, he ordered, “Pack your bags. You’re going to the airport as soon as I get back.”

She reared back as if he had slapped her. He expected her to protest, to argue, to show her fiery spirit, but she disappointed him by remaining silent. Stiffly, she nodded and skirted around him, making sure not to touch him.

He clenched his jaw so tightly his eardrums flexed. His blood pressure spiked, and he barely heard what Darko was saying to Stefana, the guards, the man bleeding out on the floor, the two policeman who wanted to be anywhere else but there and the owner of the club. Numb from Marley’s betrayal, from the humiliation of finding her here with another man, he stood back and watched as Darko meted out his version of justice.

When it was done, he left the club to find Luka waiting outside his car. Rina had fallen asleep in the back seat, covered in a borrowed jacket. The thought of getting into the car and going back to the house to face the ugliness that waited made his stomach churn violently. Shaking his head, he walked away from the car and down the alley.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Luka called out. “Besian!”

He waved off his nephew’s concern. “I’ll find my own way home.”

“Besian!” Luka shouted. “Besian!”

Ignoring his nephew, Besian kept walking. He had no destination in mind. He only knew one thing for sure. The wedding was off.

---