Page 40 of Unleash Hades
“Aren’t you supposed to be handling a crisis in Angola or Argentina?” Bellamy placed a hand on Richard’s cheek, and I almost laughed at the horror in my husband’s eyes. “I wascertain you weren’t supposed to be here, or I would have sought you out for a drink.”
“Algeria,” Richard said, flinching out of Bellamy’s grasp. “And I caught an early flight home.”
To see his mistress, no doubt.
“Oh! How wonderful. Good that your early flight let you come out here,” Bellamy clapped his hands in delight. “I was going to have a drink there with Aldon Mountbatten. You know Aldon, the Duke of Severn? Close relation to the King and all that.”
Was Bellamy’s voice becoming more flowery? I wasn’t sure. But it was making Richard deeply uncomfortable.
Richard’s eyes landed on me, and I thought, for a moment, he could see the evidence of my joy. Could he see love bites? No. Hugo had left none.
What about the marks of Hugo’s hands? Was the glow on my skin, so obviously not from him, evidence of my infidelity? Could he feel the warmth and wetness inside me that he had no part of? Did he know that my panties had gone missing?
“And you two are here, together, for a story?” Richard narrowed his eyes on me. “Peculiar.”
So much threat was packed into that single word. It was a question, a threat, and a warning to explain, very quickly or there’d be consequences.
I clamped my mouth shut, scrambling for a lie.
“Oh, yes, of course!” Bellamy said, pulling a handkerchief out from his pocket and swishing it in the air in front of him. “We can’t seem to agree on a direction, and I don’t think we’re equipped for this one at all. We’ll need to get more sources. Still, I’m not sure.” Bellamy placed a finger to his chin as if he was deep in thought. “To be honest, I don’t think this is really Calissandra’s thing anyway, is it? I mean… fighting rings? Really? Who cares, and isn’t that a bit beneath you?”
My heart thumped in my chest, as I stared at my husband like I was a deer, and he was oncoming headlights.
I could lose it all. He could hurt me. He could hurt the boys.
He could hurt Hugo.
“I think I should just handle this piece myself,” Bellamy said, with a flourish of his hand, letting out a small giggle. “But Calissandra insisted on being there, and I allowed her, talented as she is…”
He kept rambling and rambling, and Richard narrowed his eyes, trying to make heads or tails of what he was saying. Bellamy’s talent for saying so little with so much was astounding.
Bellamy placed a palm on Richard’s chest, as if they were comrades or… lovers? There was something uncomfortable about the whole thing, especially when Bellamy leaned in. His orange, painted nails playing with Richard’s silk tie.
“I mean, a lady on the byline would just be ridiculous. After all, this is a man’s sport.” He pounded his chest with his fist, and then let out a squeal when he must have hit it a little too hard.
I almost snorted in derision.
“It was a mistake bringing her here, I think.” That long finger came to his chin, and he tilted his head towards Richard as if they were having a little tete-a-tete. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about…”
Bellamy deftly turned my husband away, and they walked down the aisle, over to a drink cart, forgetting about me.
With their backs turned, I could finally breathe again. I placed my hand on my chest, hoping that my lungs and my heart didn’t burst right out of it. Like the coward I had been twenty-five years ago, I ran. I ran, and ran, away from the noise, from the people, searching for somewhere silent so that I could think. I needed to be able to think again. I ran from the venue, into the street, covering my ears against the sound of honking taxis, and shouting pedestrians. I walked away, into an alley at the side of the building.
It smelled like piss, but it was quiet, and I could cover my eyes and ears, and calm the thumping of my heart.
I hated him. I hated him. I hated him.
I hated Richard as much as I loved… him.
Chapter 12
Hugo
Iwaited by theShe-Bear’s locker room door like a creep. I had put on a button-down shirt and jeans, along with heavy boots to deal with the cold New York air that seemed to oppress the city even during the summertime.
“Did you talk to her?” Rose asked.
“She said that drinks would be impossible.”
