She leaves so quickly that I don’t have time to stop her.
“Did she just say…”
“I think she did,” I respond to Jordan.
“Oh my God. That means…”
“He asked my parents for permission.” I finish the sentence for her. He was, or is, going to ask me to marry himfor realfor real. Or at least give me a proposal that wasn’t alcohol induced.
My stomach turns to knots again, and I run to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth, emptying my stomach once more. There was a part of me that thought Declan was going to regret all his decisions when it came to marrying me, but if he asked my parents for permission, that means he’s all in.
“Hey, are you okay?” Declan comes rushing in a moment later.
I nod my head, and he helps me to stand. “I’m fine. Just stressed from everything.”
We haven’t talked about Brad, but both Jordan and my mom knew what had happened, and I know it’s because Declan told them.
I brush my teeth, and Declan stares at me the whole time. When I’m finally done, he says, “I’m sorry for bringing everyone here.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, and he circles his around my shoulders. “It’s okay,” I tell him honestly. Because if that prick, Brad, can go on spewing the shit he did, then it’s time for me to be able to say something and trust the people around me.
“Brad figured out who Autumn was, Penny.”
I look up at him in shock. “What?”
He nods solemnly. “I could tell he worked it out in his head. He wasn’t too happy about it. I think… I think he might come back.”
His words have me bent over the toilet one more time. I really thought I was going to be done with this guy, but the universe has other plans, it seems.
Only time will tell.
I guess now, it’s just a waiting game.
Chapter 31
Declan
It only took twenty-four hours before the cops showed up at the tattoo shop. “I’m looking for a Becca Miles,” a mid-twenties-something cop says when he enters the shop. He’s followed by a middle-aged-looking officer with a beer gut.
“Can I ask what this is about?”
“She’s been charged with assault and battery. I have to take her in for processing.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “According to whom?”
I have a good four inches on the kid, and he works a swallow before saying, “BradleyElias.”
I nod my head. “You mean the guy who verbally defamed my wife? Or the one who called Becca a whore?”
The kids' eyes widen, and the bigger man steps up. “He came in with a bruised jaw and filed charges. Unfortunately, words are just words, but because this Becca woman physically put her hands on him, and he pressed charges, we have to take her in.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “Give me a minute,” I say, and walk to the break room.
Becca has her headphones on and is jamming out, clueless as to what’s going on. Her gaze catches mine as I enter the room, and she goes from happy to serious in point five seconds. “What’s wrong?”
“The cops are here.”
Her eyes widen, and then she lets out a humorless chuckle. “That little prick is pressing charges, isn’t he?”
