Page 7 of Enraged

It was only then that I noticed Cassie standing between Mr. Felder and Jace. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara and her neat hair had come undone. As I took in the sight of her, the words I had overheard before coming down the hall flooded my mind.

On your wedding day…her best friend…

Cassie looked at me with tear-filled eyes.

“Dakota, I –,” she stammered.

I held up my hand to silence her.

Mrs. Charlotte, Lena’s mama, reached out and touched my arm.

“Scum of the fuckin’ earth!” Mr. Felder accused, pointing a long, callused finger at Jace.

“Brett, we are in a church!” His wife scolded him. He pressed his lips together in a thin line.

I locked eyes with my best friend of over twenty years, his expression confirming what I already knew to be true. Without a thought, I swung, connecting nicely with his perfectly chiseled jaw. He crumpled to the floor in a heap. The gasps from those around me assured me this wasn’t some weird dream.

This is actually fuckin’ happening.

Stepping over the lump of a groom, I hauled ass to my truck, my now ex-fiancé chasing behind me.

“Dak, please!” She pleaded. “Just listen! I can explain!”

“My best friend, Cassie? No, fuck that, YOUR best friend? Where the fuck is Lena?” I demanded.

I can say fuck, right? I’m in the parking lot, not the actual church.

My anger intensified when she didn’t immediately answer me.

“Where the fuck is Lena?” I asked again, the tone in my voice daring her to ignore me.

“I- I don’t know. She caught us and she… she left,” she sobbed.

Without another word, I jumped in my truck and hauled ass out of the parking lot.

Jolene

“Invalid code entry. Please see owner.”

Motherfucker!

I tried another number combination.

“Invalid code entry. Please see owner.”

I swear before the Lord, this is some fuck shit.

Another code combination.

“Invalid code entry. Please see owner.”

What the fuck is the code!?!?!

Pulling my phone from my cleavage in the trashiest way possible, I weighed my options. Realizing that the only workable one was texting Dak or his daddy for it, I slid my iPhone back to its hiding spot between double and d.

I’ll jump this fence if I have to before I call anyone that is at that damn church.

Ignoring the fact that the fence was well over twelve foot tall, I tried one last four-digit code. The gate’s engine, or whatever it is that makes the fucker move, roared to life and the bitch slid to the left.

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