Page 105 of The Scars I Bare
Egging me on.
But it was as if my body and my brain disconnected, and my body took the helm of the ship.
“How long exactly did it take my overly emotional ex-wife to jump in bed with you? A day? She’s a real fire pistol, too, isn’t she? And that mouth of hers? Really hoovers the thing right in there.”
“Dean?” My brother had taken notice and ditched his bridesmaid to try to step in.
“Go, Taylor,” I said. “Just go.”
“Taylor? This your brother Lizzie was telling me about? The other fisherman? The one who actually fishes? Hey, what are the chances you could get me to shore tonight, buddy?”
“No,” I barked. “No one is taking you anywhere in this weather, Blake. I told you that. Besides,” I said, pulling out the set of keys I’d taken away hours ago, “Taylor has the night off. Don’t you, brother?”
“Right,” he said, his eyes darting between Blake and me before he stepped back to join his bridesmaid.
“Man, you guys on this island are a bunch of pussies when it comes to weather,” he said. “But at least you have plenty of it. Pussy, I mean. Maybe I’ll just go find some of my own. Your brother looks like he found a good one. I think I spotted a bridesmaid earlier who looked promising—a pretty blonde with a funny name. Minnie or Mickie?”
Millie, Molly’s younger sister.
My stomach heaved, and my fists clenched.
“You have yourself a good night,” he said. “Well, who am I kidding? Of course you’ll have a good night. You’ll be burying yourself over and over in my ex-wife, and as we both know—”
I hit him.
I hit him so hard, he flew back into the table, shattering glasses and breaking chairs. It was like one of those slow-motion scenes from a movie. Only there was no slow motion, and the blood wasn’t fake.
For as drunk as he was, it didn’t take him long to pop back up and take a shot at me. Thankfully, there must not have been much roughhousing or boxing classes in finishing school because the guy punched like a toddler. Still, he managed to get a few shots in.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared before someone—Jake, I realized—grabbed him from behind to separate us.
My brother tried to do the same for me, but I shrugged him off.
“I’m fine!” I hollered, taking my first look around. “I’m fine.”
There were flower petals everywhere as glass littered the floor. The remaining wedding guests were all huddled together, looking shocked and scared.
I scanned the room, finding the two most important guests.
Cora and Lizzie.
They both stood in a corner, clinging to each other, staring at me with disbelief in their eyes.
Disbelief and disappointment.
“Okay!” Jake announced. “Show’s over. Let’s get this cleaned up. I’m gonna grab some ice.”
I gave him a look of apology, and he just shook his head, waving it off as he headed for the kitchen.
As I walked off in the direction of Cora, I knew her forgiveness wouldn’t come nearly as easy. I watched as she whispered in Lizzie’s ear, sending her toward the kitchen after Jake.
“Cora,” I said, barely able to make eye contact.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“You can’t do what?”
“This,” she said. “Any of this. I can’t go through life like this with the two of you at each other’s throats in front of Lizzie all the time.”
