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Denying the Bad Boy:Tattooed and Pierced, 2(35)

By:Jenika Snow


A pregnant pause filled the air. "There really isn't much to say. I  stood up to them. I told Margo what a selfish bitch she was, told my mom  I'm not her doll, and told them about Lance and how I will never be  with him again." That last part had him stilling.

"Lance, your ex?" Every part of him was tense once again at hearing her  say her ex-boyfriend's name. "He was at the dinner?" He leaned away from  her so he could look into her face. She looked uncomfortable and  nodded.

"Yeah, apparently my mom coincidentally ran into him at the club, but I  know Lance planned it, because he called me out of the blue back at  campus a few weeks back saying he wanted to see me." That information  had his blood rising.

"Wait, he called you?"

"Yeah, before you and I started doing anything." She emphasized the last  word, and he knew he needed to calm the fuck down. "My mom had this  fantasy in her mind that we would get back together, but I cleared that  up at dinner. I told them that he was verbally abusive when he drank,  that he cheated on me with my friend, all of it."                       
       
           



       

Well, shit. "What did they say?"

"Nothing, except my normally bland father was pretty pissed at Lance,  even told him he was never welcome around them again." Good. "But Lance  caught up with me in the driveway, and looked ready to kill me."

"He touched you?" Alex didn't hold back the anger in his voice.

She pushed herself up and shook her head. Dammit, all it had taken was  the image of that faceless asshole coming near his Mary and he was about  to fucking lose it. His blood pressure rose, his muscles contracted,  and he forced himself to calm the hell down because he was scaring the  woman he loved.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm sorry, baby,  but just knowing that prick was close to you, threatening you, makes me  insane." She smiled and snuggled back against his chest, and fuck did it  feel good. He didn't even know this guy, but he knew how he had made  her feel all those years ago, and that was enough for him to beat the  fucker's ass if he ever crossed his path.

"It's okay. Everything is okay now. I'll go to the wedding, but I'm  going as myself. I'm going to have you beside me, and I don't care what  anyone thinks or says." She tilted her head back and smiled up at him.  "If I had known how exhilarating it was to tell them exactly how I felt,  and not be bound by my own fear, I would have done it a long time ago."

Alex cupped her cheek. His hand took up one entire side of her face. She  was just so small compared to him, but all woman still, and that,  coupled with so many other things, made him want to wrap her in his arms  and never let her go. But he couldn't smother her, couldn't let his own  need to be her protector have her running in the other direction.

"And I'll be right there beside you, letting you lead the way  …   sometimes." He winked, and when she laughed it filled the whole room and  went straight to his heart.

They took a shower together, one that led to him taking her slowly  against the tiles. And then they were back in bed, naked with nothing  between them, and the sound of her deep, even breathing lulling him to  sleep.

****

The wedding had been beautiful, but then again there was no doubt that  it would be. Now here Mary was, standing on the stone veranda at the  country club where the reception was going on in full swing, thinking.  "Stay" by Rihanna played behind her, in an almost haunting tone. She  turned and watched as Alex got them drinks from the bar. For some  strange and inexplicable reason, her father and Alex had gotten along  instantly.

But then again something changed in her father since yesterday. He was  still hard and stoic, but there was this softness in his eyes when he  looked at her. Had that one incident really broken a part of his tough  exterior? She had seen him at the church, and for the first time in  longer than she cared to remember, he had embraced her and told her he  was proud of her, that he did love her, and that he was sorry for how he  made her feel all these years. That had her crying, because it wasn't  until that moment that she realized she'd missed hearing him say it.  Stephen Trellis was a man of few words and even fewer emotions, and that  was how she saw him when she grew up, but when he looked down at her,  all she had seen was a father who loved his daughter.

She turned back around and stared at the perfectly manicured grounds  with the small intimate lights dotting the trails within the woods  surrounding the property. The night was clear, and the glow of the moon  washed everything in a silvery hue. Mary let her thoughts drift to her  mom and Margo. When she had met them at the salon this morning, she had  been surprised to see them standing outside the door, waiting for her.  Apprehension had slammed into her, and she knew that whatever was about  to be said couldn't be good, not when she hadn't held anything back last  night.

But it hadn't been the confrontation she had been expecting. Instead her  mother had apologized, and Margo, well Margo had apologized in a way  that wouldn't have seemed sincere to anyone that didn't know her. They  both told her they hadn't meant to ever make her feel like she didn't  belong in the family. It hadn't been this big heartfelt production, but  it had been enough for Mary to realize her words last night had gotten  through to them. There weren't enough words in the world that would have  Mary forget everything that had happened and how everyone had made her  feel, but she did want to move forward, and that meant taking the first  step.

Now the wedding was over. Margo was now a Barton, and everyone seemed to  be on the road to a new start. Mary pushed away from the stone banister  and smoothed her hands down the lilac chiffon dress. The bridesmaid  gown was elegant and sophisticated, with delicate lace around the bust,  and the length falling to her toes. She smiled and made her way back  inside, but a deep voice coming from the shadows stopped her.                       
       
           



       

"Didn't think it would be this easy." The clearly slurred words came  from the corner, where the stone outcropping made the shadows thick and  visibility nil. Mary tried to see, but it was impossible. Still, she  knew that voice and the clearly drunken tone. A second later Lance  stepped into the light, the muted glow from the ballroom washing across  his disheveled appearance. He was drunk, that much was clear. The scent  of a brewery coming from him was enough to have bile rising in her  throat.

"You have a lot of balls coming here after I said I wanted nothing to do with you, and my dad said you were no longer welcome."

He smiled, but it was sloppy, just like his appearance. His slacks were  wrinkled, and his oxford hung halfway out of his slacks. He looked like  shit. His position kept him away from the view of everyone inside, and  she would have to get pretty damn close to pass him.

"Just go home and sleep it off, Lance." She didn't even ask how he got  in, despite this being a private party. She remembered too many times  when he tried to talk her into sneaking in the country club at night to  go skinny dipping with his friends. He had been smart enough not to come  to Margo's wedding, but certainly had spent that time getting sloshed.

"You know, I thought I'd have to get into some kind of back alley fight  with your bodyguard before I could get close to you." He didn't move,  and was smart enough to stay away from everyone else's visibility. "I  did a lot of thinking today. You owe me a lot, Mary." Yeah. Clearly he  had done that thinking with a bottle of liquor.

Incredulity washed through her. "Excuse me?" He chuckled, but it was distorted and humorless.

"Yeah, I brought you into my circle, made everyone realize you were even  alive. If not for me you'd still be the fucking little Trellis charity  case."

"I can't believe I ever found anything appealing about you. You're an  asshole, and immature. Go home and sleep it off before you make an even  bigger fool of yourself."

She made her way toward the balcony doors, her back straight and her  head held high, but before she could enter he had a hold of her hand and  roughly pulled her into the shadows. His grip was bruising, and pain  lanced up her arm. He spun her around and pressed her against the wall,  in the shadowed corner where no light penetrated. Before she could yell  for help he slapped his free hand over her mouth. His hot, liquor laced  breath wafted across her cheek, and she gagged.

"You made me look like a fucking fool in front of everyone." His forearm  was pressed to her throat, cutting off her air and keeping her pressed  to the wall. He reached between them and started fumbling with his belt.  Oh, hell no. She struggled, but in a quick move he had his hand wrapped  around her throat. "I think I'll take my anger out on your fucking  body." He tightened his hand on her throat, and she clawed at his hold.