I wouldn’t have come to the ball this year, but as a business owner and alumni, it was more a requirement than an invitation. Getting ready for it was a nightmare—I’m not helpless, but I started dating my ex-wife in college, and I haven’t been allowed a lot of input in the course of our lives since. We’re both from prominent families, so it was an approved match although we weren’t fated to be mates. Our mothers planned our wedding, and after that, Sherilynn has decided everything from the details of our businesses to our home, and even our children.
Few people can say their children despise them for no reason truthfully, but mine do.
Scarlett was born a year after we got married, and when we couldn’t produce another heir, our parents insisted we adopt lost ones. Sherilynn handpicked the twins, preferring to adopt young children rather than another baby that would require more of her effort and attention. We named Simon and Simone after my father—he greased the wheels with the adoption—and they are absolute terrors. My ex preferred to pit the biological and adopted children against one another in a contest for her affections despite differences in age or powers, and now all three act as narcissistic and self-centered as she is.
My father is handling the terms of the divorce with his iron fist because he loves a good courtroom brawl, but even my parents are infuriated with me. So they left me to handle picking out a costume, get it ordered, and deal with all of it on my own. I’m ashamed to say it was baffling at first, but in the end, I was glad everyone else was consumed in their shit. After a decade of having little to no choice in anything, I finally had to decide on my own.
It’s about damn time, too.
However, none of that makes this party any less uncomfortable, nor does it solve the multitude of problems I’m facing. The divorce has made my children even angrier at me, and I will have to deal with them once I get a handle on myself. Our business interests will be divided and I’m happy to let Sherilynn ruin the restaurant if she allows me to keep the store and the Speakeasy. I’ll need to find a new place to live, as I’m certain our house will be part of her demands, but I’ve never felt like it was my place. She picked the lot, the plans, and every damned thing in it but for my belongings.
But all of that pales compared to what’s going to happen when the truth about why I filed comes to light.
Jolene Whitley is my mate.
The moment she stepped up to the door of the Speakeasy, the knowledge slammed into me like an atom bomb. I didn’t tell anyone—I’d given up on that gift long ago—but once I knew, I couldn’t ignore it. My parents are both supernatural, and I take after my mother, so I’m a shifter. Our kind can take single or multiple mates depending on what hand they are dealt, so that Jolene clearly had others interested in her didn’t bother me.
My only problem was—and if I’m honest, always has been—Sherilynn. We were the typical rich people marriage of convenience, but since my ex-wife is who she is, I knew separating would be a bloody process. I didn’t want to bring Jolene into yetanotherbattle with the town mavens, but my resolve only lasted a week. The lure of my true mate, especially one as amazing as Boone made Jolene sound, was too much. Truthfully, I haven’t been happy for a long time, and perhaps this was the impetus I needed to do something about it.
I’m aware how messed up that makes me.
There’s a lot of work I’ll need to do before I’m able to truly commit to her. I need to be comfortable exploring myself and learn to live life without someone controlling my every move with emotional blackmail. Until I can find out who I am on my own, I can’t lay claim toanyone. It just wouldn’t be healthy. Edgar and I have had this conversation, and he believes I can spend time with them while I’m healing. I made him promise to kick my ass to the curb if I caused issues, though.
Jolene suffered enough abuse at our hands—even indirectly—when we were kids. I won’t be part of it now.
I sip my bourbon while I watch the dance floor from the balcony. My Beast costume is fitting, I know, and while I’m proud of getting it together on my own, it feels lonely without a Belle. Sherilynn certainly wouldn’t have fit the bill, but… Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I frown as something catches my eye.
A gaggle of women dressed as different versions of Harley Quinn are huddled in the far corner of the floor, eyeing people across the room. I’m uncertain why my ex and her witchy friends chose something they would normally consider ‘crass’ for their costumes tonight, but it doesn’t bode well. I move towards the stairs, getting closer as they laugh for a minute before exiting the hall through the doors to the back verandah.
All of them disappearing at once is not a good sign.
Scouting the crowd, I find my friend and his assorted crew at a table directly across from where the Harleys were a moment ago. I rush down the steps and push my way through the dancing crowd until I’m standing in front of them. The Irishman saunters off, and my brows furrow as I take in the sight of Jolene with the vet in her lap and Boone with the town doctor on his. They look at me expectantly, and I realize they’re completely comfortable with my interruption.
I decide my curiosity can be sated later, letting out a long breath before I say. “Uh, guys?”
Jolene stares at me like I’m a figment of her imagination and it makes Boone grin. He holds his fist up for me to bump. “Hey man, what’s up?”
“I… I have a bad feeling, E. Something is going down, and soon. Sherilynn and all of her friends are MIA. They disappeared together, and I didn’t notice that they were scheming because I was trying so hard to avoid her.” I pause, looking at my feet uncomfortably. “She hasn’t taken the separation well. I hope she isn’t acting out because of?—”
“Dude, Sherilynn was a viper in high school, and she made you miserable from the moment you married her. Whatever she has cooking isn’t about you—it’s because she and the other girls follow Amy Matilda like lemmings off a cliff.”
“She knows we didn’t separate because of her behavior. I didn’t tell her, but she’s not stupid, man. I’m worried they have something ugly planned—again.” Edgar tosses back his bourbon, and I watch as Jolene does the same when I look at her pointedly.
“Sugarplum, I’m gonna need you to breathe,” Wolfgang says as he leans back and puts his forehead against hers. “I can feel your pain. I wasn’t here when it happened, and I’ve only heard stories. But I know you were a kid and you’re a beautiful, accomplished woman now. They can’t hurt you like they did before.”
Movement and an odd scent get my attention, and my mouth drops open when the enormous snake slowly recoils around her frame. A single tear leaks from one eye as she whispers, “Wolfie, you don’t understand. It wasn’t just them. There was more to it—more than people know.”
“Jolene, I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I came to help you guys slip out before whatever happens goes down. I saw Haggerty heading outside. I’m sure he’ll be on alert.” I hold my hand out, trying to show her that I’m earnest.
Wolfie rises to his feet, and the rest of her men nod at her. “If you think we should follow him, I trust you.”
“Benjy tried to stop what happened in high school, Tilly. He’s the one who came out to find us when he overheard the girls giggling in the back. We were all too stupid, high, and full of our parents’ toxic bullshit to understand what was going on,” Teddy says quietly. “We didn’t listen and by the time we got inside, the damage was done.”
She blinks at me, her gaze unsure.. “Is that true, Benjy?”
Ducking my head as a flush creeps up my neck, I murmur, “It is. Teddy convinced me that there was a secret room upstairs, and I saw her approach them. I heard what they offered and how it came about. I ran to tell the guys, but they were… hell. They were stupid kids; we all were. I never got to tell you how sorry we were.”
Her expression goes from irritated to understanding quickly, and she takes my hand. “Thank you for telling me that.”