Willing back the devastation that threatens to run down my cheeks, I squeeze my eyes shut. Out of nowhere, my stomach pitches violently. I race for the en suite bathroom, crashing to my knees before the porcelain god. The self-loathing that has blackened my insides ejects itself.
Lost in my distress, I don’t realize my husband has darkened the doorway until his footsteps echo on the marble floor behind me. “Well, if it isn’t my beautiful bride.” His harsh voice licks over my skin, and I freeze in place, breath gasping from me as I stare down into the abyss and try to blink away my tears. He snickers. “Come now, Noah. Time for you to show me how sorry you are for inviting your lover to our wedding.”
“You know I didn’t, you bastard.” My brow crashes as I fight back another wave of nausea. “Did you get off on that?” I drag in several ragged breaths, hoping he’ll leave me be. The remaining contents of my stomach purge into the bowl. Shooing him away, I groan. “Fuck off, Bradley. You’ve done enough damage.”
His chuckle reminds me of a deranged villain, dripping with the kind of venom that causes unease to ripple up my spine. “Don’t be so pathetic, Noah. It’s not a good look.”
I jolt as a few raps sound on the exterior door of the suite.
“Now, clean yourself up, our guests have arrived.”
Shock slams into me as he vacates the bathroom to open the suite door. Whoever it is, he’s inviting them in.What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?He said he was going to make me pay. I’ve been down this road before. When will I learn my lesson? Complacency is the key to get out of this marriage intact. He came here with some sort of intent and apparently invited an audience. What does he have planned for me? My stomach lurches again, bile coats my tongue. The muscles contract angrily as I expel what little is left.
From the next room, Bradley’s command forces a grimace from me. After wiping my face with a tissue, I flush my disgust away and push to my feet.Whoa, Noah. Must have stood up too quickly.Everything in my peripheral vision gets dark, fuzzy, and distorted. Turning, I clutch the door frame for support and draw in a breath. It doesn’t stop the sensation that I could pass out at any second. Closing my eyes, on an exhale, I finally feel stable enough to cross the bedroom, following the voices of the men who are talking and laughing as if they’re about to party it up right here.
Marcus, one of the groomsmen, arches his brow as he gives me a slow perusal. “There she is. What’s wrong, honey? You not feeling so good?”
“Looks like she could use another drink.” The other groomsmen, Paulie, wets his lips, shooting me a smile that slithers across my skin.
“Agreed. The dress is something else, by the way.” Marcus’s astute eyes flick to Bradley. “Did you pick out the lingerie, too?”
My husband simply shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I watch all of them warily. Who the fuck do these assholes think they are? They’ve been friends with Bradley for years, but we definitely don’t know each other well enough for either of them to make comments about my undergarments.
Bradley chuckles. “Only the best for my girl, you know?”
“For sure. But I bet whatever is hiding under that dress looks better on the floor,” Paulie agrees with a wolfish smile.
My already upset stomach coils into a knot, revolting, and my brows crash together as the pair—at Bradley’s insistence—venture farther into the room, heading for the couches in front of the fireplace. They find the remote like they’ll be staying awhile and flick it on.
An uncomfortable flush creeps over my skin, making it feel as if my dress is suffocating me. I pull at the neckline, needing the space for air to fill my lungs. It doesn’t help, and I sway on my feet.
“Maybe you should sit down and relax.” Marcusnods as he pats the space next to him. Glancing around at our accommodations, he winks at me. “It’s cozy with a fire lit, don’t you think?”
Instead of moving toward him, I inch toward the door. My internal alarm bells blare in warning. My jaw tightens.Noah, you need to get the fuck out of this room and fast.Something isn’t right. Scanning the area, I search for my clutch but come up empty.Shit.It must be in the bathroom with my phone.Think, Noah. Think.I squeeze my eyes shut.Why can’t I focus?
In desperation, I rack my mind for any excuse to leave the suite. Their laughter or smiles don’t fool me. Panic rises. Something within screams at me to run. I’m beyond uncomfortable in the presence of these men, including my husband.
As I stand here, internally freaking out, Bradley plays the jovial bartender for his longtime friends. Ice clinks in glasses as he boasts about the amenities of our honeymoon suite. Typical Bradley, all of it. But beneath the smooth polish, there’s a hint of something else in his tone, in his gaze… and it’s got anxiety spiking sharply in my blood.
One foot in front of the other, I close the distance to the door. A wave of dizziness overcomes me as I fight to keep my balance. Before my fingers can grasp the handle, my knees buckle.
Pop!The loud noise nearly makes me leap from myskin, and my head whips toward where Bradley accepts a glass of champagne from Paulie. He holds it up as if he’s toasting, and with a coaxing wink he narrows the gap between us. “Come on, wife. Be a good girl and sit.”
Brow arching insistently, his fingers wrap around my bicep. He leads the way to the couch where Marcus and Paulie are seated and pushes me into the open space between them. My body complies against my will, limbs boneless as he forces a crystal flute of bubbly into my hand.What the hell is happening? I can’t make sense of this loss of control.
He drops to his haunches in front of me and takes a sip of his drink before placing it out of the way. Registering the hands falling to my thighs, I’m pinned in place. “Drink up. You’ll feel better.”
The desire to shut my eyes and sleep is overwhelming, but with the way they’re watching me, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Bradley lifts the champagne to my lips, and the scent wafts up my nose as he forces me to take a sip. “No.” I swat at the glass.
A muffled voice comes from my right. “Seems like someone might have been having a little too much fun at the reception.”
For the next several minutes, I tune out their conversation, all while focusing on the bubbles rising to the top of the flute and wishing I could float away.Anywhere but here.
My brows lazily pinch together as my head turns. The wicked lick of the flames is making it all too warm in here, and everywhere I look, the suite has this odd, hazy quality.
Bradley squeezes my hip. I slowly tilt my chin up to look at him. “This champagne. Tastes funny. No more.”
His lips quirk. “No? I think you should. We’re celebrating.”
