“How’s she been?”

“I think she’s really taking this transition hard… moving on and getting married again.” I could choke on the words.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Evan’s condolences are sincere, but I’m more than certain he doesn’t want a part in this conversation.

“You better be good to her,” Kat says, the declaration sounding like a threat.

I turn my attention back to her. “I’ll take care of her, I promise,” I assure her, meeting her prying gaze. I can see the moment my lies slip into place and Kat reaches up to give me a quick hug.

“I’ll talk to her,” she says firmly, nodding her head and giving me a sympathetic look.

“Thank you,” I say and hide the fact that dread is slowly consuming me. Jules was willing to tell the police before. Her dear friend who’s concerned for her well-being… I’m certain she’ll tell her something.

Jules

My body gets hotter and hotter with each step I take. Leaning against the counter, I listen to the water rushing from the faucet; it fills the empty restroom with white noise. Just breathe. Just breathe. I’ve never wanted to run so badly. That’s all I can think about.

My heels click as I walk casually out of the side exit, smiling as best as I can although I’m not meeting the eyes of any of the guests who are having quiet conversations in the hall. As they sip on their cocktails and throw their heads back in jovial laughter, I want to walk faster; my body begs me to run. It takes great effort to keep my pace easy and pretend that nothing’s wrong as I tuck my hair back and say thank you to the doorman when I head outside.

Goosebumps prickle along my skin as the bitter cold greets me. I pull the shrug tighter and maintain my composure when the look from the young man holding the door is riddled with questions.

It’s too cold for me to be outside without a coat; I’m certain that’s what he’s thinking. But I cling to my clutch, the beaded fabric nearly slipping from the sweat on my hands.

My heart races and all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears as the door closes behind me. The dark night lays before me, the busy street only a block away and through a small alley.

This exit isn’t meant for departing guests. It’s meant for smoking and the faint smell gets stronger as I take a few steps farther out into the night. Away from the gala, from the spotlight and from Mason.

Glancing to my left purely out of instinct from knowing someone’s there incites shock and fear both. Liam Olsen stares back at me. He pushes off of the wall, exhaling a puff of smoke that mixes with the fog of his breath. The bright red and orange embers of the cigarette travel through the air as he walks toward me. His oxford shoes crunch the snow beneath his heavy steps.

I turn to face him, my eyes flitting between him and the exit I’ve just left. I’m not sure anyone can see me from here. There’s no light, only darkness where I’ve gone.

The moonlight makes Liam’s skin look pale and his eyes dark as he walks closer to me. I swallow the dread in my throat and greet him accordingly. “How are you, Mr. Olsen?” My skin feels numb with the cold, yet alive with fear. I’ve never actually met the man, but I know the business he had with Mason dissolving has left its mark on him.

“Where’s Mason?” Liam asks harshly, tossing his cigarette to the side where it’s instantly extinguished by the wet snow. Smoke billows from his nostrils as he comes closer, close enough to get a glimpse of his eyes. They’re nearly bloodshot and his walk uneven, but his question is forceful. I’m not sure if he’s drunk or angry. Maybe both.

“Whatever happened between you two…” I can’t finish the thought.

My voice is caught in my throat for a moment, my eyes going back to the exit where I can clearly see the guests. My heart pounds once then twice as time seems to pass in slow motion and I have to think quick. Liam takes a large step forward, closing the distance between us and I instantly take one back, although it’s on the edge of the sidewalk and my heel slips. I almost fall backward, and he catches me.

He chuckles and reeks of liquor. I push my hands against his chest as I find purchase on the sidewalk, turning my body so he’s no longer between me and the exit.

He’s drunk and he’s angry, so I’m careful as I pry his hands off me as respectfully as possible and desperately try to put more space between us.

“He’s coming,” I tell Liam breathlessly. I have to clear my throat and repeat myself to sound surer of what I’m saying, but it doesn’t fool Liam. Either that, or he doesn’t care.

“You really want a man like that?” he asks me. “After what he’s done?” he says and squints his eyes, and my throat closes with fear with the tone he takes. What does he know?

“What?” I say, licking my lips although in the cold air it only makes them feel chapped. “What exactly did he do?” I ask Liam, taking another step back. I watch as he looks toward the door and then takes another step closer to me, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks. “Business partnerships don’t always—”

“I’m going to make him pay,” he says, cutting me off and raising his brow as he reaches in his pocket for something. I involuntarily tense up, but it’s only a pack of cigarettes. He takes one out, then offers the pack to me as he slips a cig between his lips and tilts his head back.

“No thank you,” I tell him, “I was just heading inside.”

“No you weren’t,” he says as he lights the cigarette, the tiny flame illuminating his face. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, pinching it between his forefinger and thumb as he says, “You just came out here.”

“I made a mistake.” I’m quick to answer and it only makes him smile.

“Yeah you did,” he says and the smile morphs from cocky to something else. Something sinister.

“I have to go,” I say and turn my back to him, heading for the door. But I only take a single step before his hand is wrapped around my hip, pulling me backward and into his hard chest.

“Get off me!” I yell out and drop my clutch as I try to pry his fingers away from me. He’s holding me with a bruising force, the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh at my hips.

“Hey now,” Liam says, nearly laughing the words as he spits out the cigarette and covers my mouth with his other hand. “Hush, hush, it’s okay,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. The cocktail of smoke and lingering alcohol mixes and fills my lungs as I heave in a breath. This is not happening.

I yank my elbow back with everything I have and shove it into Liam’s gut. He releases me and I don’t waste a second, I run for the door straight in front of me. My shrug falls off and I’ve already lost my clutch, but as far as I’m concerned, it can stay wherever it is forever.

My palms slap against the glass door, forcing my body to come to a halt and the doorman looks at me with complete surprise as I stand there doubled over and desperate for air.

I’m shaking and completely wrecked. I’ve dealt with drunken men and roaming hands before. But never from a man angry with my supposed fiancé. I can barely wrap my head around what happened. He grabbed me. He held his hand over my mouth.