Page 87 of Will to Run

“You talking about Della?” I question him with narrowed eyes.

He scoffs at my use of her preferred name and puts his sunglasses on top of his head. Now I recognize him from the photos on that wedding program I saw that first day she arrived. “She goes by Elizabeth.”

“Not out here,” I shoot back, standing to my full height. I’m taller than him by a couple of inches, and I’d bet stronger too. Even though she hates me, I can’t stomach this piece of shit for what he did to her. I can still defend her honor, right?

“Elizabeth will be coming home with me today. She left me at the altar, and I’ve given her enough time to play and get her shit together. Now, I’m here to bring her back.”

“Did you even make it to the altar? It sounds to me like you got caught with your pants down. And to be clear, that’s not hyperbole; that’s me telling you that your pants were at your ankles while you were dick deep in your best man’s ass. But maybe I heard it wrong…” I smirk the kind of smirk that usually earns me a punch from my brothers.

“Do you even know what I could do to you?” he chuckles as if I’m beneath him, not taking my bait because I’m sure this piece of shit doesn’t think he’s done a damn thing wrong. When his eyes meet mine, there’s a bit of fire to that too-orange face and veneers. “And who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m someone who knows your wife tastes better than any whore of a bridesmaid or groomsman your lips were on.”

That is his tipping point. His indifferent façade drops, and he rushes towards me, but years of fighting my brothers gives me the upper hand.

He throws a desperate punch, and I duck because I’m not sure I want to fight this guy. I mean, I do, but I am also keeping my wits here. Maybe there’s still hope it won’t end without him on the ground with a broken nose or me in jail.

“Ha,” he mocks, “all bark and no bite. Typical.”

I laugh at his attempt at an insult, and silently praise my newfound restraint. He comes at me a few more times, but I push him away, still avoiding the fight. Even though I have enough rage in me to snap him in half, I have enough sense to know that I don’t want the ranch caught up in another lawsuit.

Then he stops to catch his breath. For someone who looks like he’s in shape, he’s sure winded right now.

“Walk away, man,” I say. “Get back in your shiny car and go back to whatever hell you came from. Without your ex-fiancée, of course.”

“She was promised to me. I don’t give a fuck about what she does. Tell her to come back out here and live this shit life, for all I care. As long as she comes home for ten or so events a year, and we can be seen together, I don’t give a fuck. I need to appease both our fathers.”

“Promised to you?” I repeat his choice of words. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I question. Del has talked about her father pushing her towards Tripp, but never said anything about being forced to.

“Oh, so you’re eating my fiancée’s pussy, but not actually talking to her. Looks like I’m not the only asshole.”

The words land like a punch to my stomach. Because the reality is the words she heard from my mouth are probably worse than anything this fucking guy put her through. And the thought wrecks me.

“You see, her father and mine are friends. Richard was always desperate to be something he wasn’t and took out a hefty business loan from my dad for a business that failed miserably. Even before Sheila died, good old Dick couldn’t figure his shit out. When he wasn’t able to pay it back, Sheila’s death afforded our father’s the ability to get… creative at the negotiating table. Elizabeth was promised to me. You have eyes, so you know she looks great on my arm. She’s not the strongest of personalities, and Richard assured me she would just fall into line and not make waves. I think he used the term guilt-ridden puppy. Unfortunately, her dick sucking leaves a lot to be desired. But, if you’ve tasted her, presumably you know how tight that virgin pussy is. Well, I guess I’m the only one who knew how tight it first was, right, partner?”

My fist connects with his face before my red haze clears. The punch drops him to his knees while blood pours out of his face. Staggering to stand, he leans against the car and holds his nose. I don’t hesitate before I’m on him again with my forearm jammed in his throat, pinning him against the black metal.

“I’ve gutted elk that I’ve cared more about. You fucking come here and have the balls to say that shit. I fucking dare you to say more. Please keep going.” My voice is low and shaking, but mostly because I’m hanging on to every shred of control I have. I want to tear his limbs off and beat him with them. I want to inflict the same degree of pain he inflicted on Della, but I want it to be physical, and I want this fucker to beg for mercy. I’ve never felt rage like this before in my life.

“Exactly what I wanted from you, you fucking lowlife. Now I’m going to bury you,” he sneers, but can’t get out of my grip.

“I’d sure like to see you fucking try,” I reply.

“Tripp,” a small voice makes both our heads snap, and when I see her, I drop my arm and take three steps back to get out of his striking range.

Della is standing there with tears in her eyes and the same hurt on her face she had after she heard my conversation with Cayson.

“There you are, Elizabeth. Finally, let’s get you out of this hellhole. I’m sorry you had to witness what you did on our wedding day, but we can talk more about that and our arrangement on the way. You haven’t responded to a single fucking thing I’ve sent you. I’m still irate about the way you embarrassed me, but we can move past it. We’ll redo the wedding, just smaller, and we’ll tell people you had cold feet. You can come back and live here for all I care; there’s a private airport close enough,” he drawls on about it, not bothering to look at her, just expecting her to fall into line. I hold my breath because after what’s happened between us, I know she wants out. But her face is a mix of ice and disbelief. Like she can’t believe he’s trying to sweep this under the rug. But I remember that was one of the things she said that first night at The Lantern; the Worthingtons like to sweep shit away.

She holds her left hand in the air, showing there’s no engagement ring, and waits for him to catch on.

“…and then we can just have Montelini’s cater the food…” his voice dies when he stops to look at her. “What are you doing, Elizabeth? I know I have the ring; it’s back home.”

“Tripp,” her voice shakes, but I don’t know if it’s anger or sadness. “I may have been willing to sacrifice myself because of a misplaced sense of guilt before, but I am no longer that person. I was willing to build a life with you, even though you were not good to me. God, you were terrible long before I caught you with your pants down. I didn’t think things were going to be perfect, but I believed it could have worked. That’s how desperate I was to find peace with my father after my mom. But now I know I was truly nothing to you, just a pretty thing to show off to the world. Not to covet, not to love, not to be faithful to. I was just promised to you without my permission. Now it makes sense why every doubt I voiced to my father was met with such disdain. He always framed it as we could get help from your family, and I owed it to him. But to know I was offered up as payment? Holy shit. He used my mother’s death to gaslight me into marrying you,” her voice breaks with emotion from the realization, but she catches herself and squares her shoulders up to him. “It wasn’t my fault. It was a horrific tragedy, but it wasn’t my fault. I don’t have an engagement ring on because I’m not engaged. It was sitting on the coffee table of the penthouse for a reason. I’m sure you saw it because it was obnoxiously big. To be clear, my name is Della. And to be abundantly clear, I am not coming back with you. I refuse to even use the word home in this situation because Chicago is no longer that.”

“Don’t be a fool. If you marry me, your dad will be off the hook. You can come back here and play cowboys with this fucking guy. I can fuck around with whoever I want to discreetly. We’ll only be seen together at events and for photos. If you stay in line, your father’s loan will be forgiven, and both you, him, and our children will be taken care of financially, so money won’t even be a problem for either of you again. You can choose if you want two or three kids; one will have to be an heir, and then you’ll be set for life. I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract.” He’s still talking like this is logically the thing to do.

“Having a contract between us is the least offensive and gross thing that just came out of your mouth. How could you do this to a person?” Della says in a strained whisper that I’ve never heard before. I’m sure she can’t wrap her head around this. She’s too good a person to understand this kind of maliciousness.