I couldn’t control the riot of emotions that flooded through me: I would see him. Soon.
The argument outside ended abruptly. I suspected Johan had managed somehow to calm the situation; I knew it wouldn’t have been David. He was far too cowardly to go up against a man like Donald Hunter.
During a tense few minutes while the Hunters snarled at each other across the barbecue pit, I chewed anxiously on my lip. I wasn’t the only one—several guests looked dubious, as if the latent violence, so evident in the couple’s venomous scowls, would erupt at any moment.
For different reasons, we were all relieved when the Hunters’ car drove up and Sebastian climbed out.
Seeing his beautiful face, drawn for now with a serious expression, some of the tension left me. Just having him so close, albeit untouchable, made me feel safe.
“Well, if it isn’t my son and heir,” sneered Donald. “Although it’s not son and hair anymore, is it, son?”
Donna snorted with disgust and my hands clenched involuntarily; I wanted to rip Donald’s vile tongue from his head.
“Just get in the car, Dad,” said Sebastian, quietly.
I was probably the only one there who could hear the tone of suppressed rage.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” snarled Donald, lurching toward his son, his fist raised.
Johan grabbed his arm but Sebastian didn’t move an inch—he just continued to look at his father impassively.
“Take it easy, Don,” said Johan. The note of authority in his voice might have had some effect on someone who’d had less to drink.
Donald just laughed mirthlessly.
“You’re lucky you haven’t got a fucking useless deadbeat for a son, Johan,” he spat.
“Maybe that’s because he takes after his father,” slurred Estelle spitefully.
“It’s all your fault!” shouted Donald. “You’re too fucking soft on him! You’ve turned him into a fucking faggot! English Lit and Italian: that’s what he wants to study at college, for fuck’s sake!”
Johan gripped Donald’s arm and, with the help of another guest whose name I couldn’t remember, steered him toward the car. Estelle wobbled after him, still throwing barbed comments.
Sebastian’s expression hadn’t changed, but his cheeks burned with a tell-tale flush of anger.
“Show’s over,” said Donna. “We’ll let these folks go take a nap.”
But the ill-tempered display had cooled the party mood and the other guests started to make their apologies and go. I wasn’t sorry to see them leave.
I stared at Sebastian, desperate to go to him, but unable to move. I simply hoped he knew how much I wanted to.
The ghost of a smile touched his beautiful mouth and then he turned to help load his inebriated parents into the family car.
Donna joined me, watching the unpleasant display as the senior Hunters continued to snipe and bicker.
“Gee, I’m sorry about your party, Caroline.”
“At least no one will forget it,” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders.
She smiled. “No, I guess not. You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Really,” I added, seeing the skeptical look on her face. “Please thank Johan for … well … everything. You, too.”
She squeezed my arm. “Our pleasure, Caroline. You be well now.”
It was only when the final guest had left, and I’d cleared the last of the debris from the kitchen, that I realized how drunk David was.
“What a fucking disaster, Car’line,” he said, leaning against the door frame, watching me.
“It was fine except for the Hunters’ little scene,” I said reassuringly. “And no one will worry about that.”
“You really are stupid, aren’t you, Car’line? I’ll be a fucking laughing stock. At least you’re good for one thing.”
He tried to grab me but I dodged out of his reach.
He frowned, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
“Come here,” he ordered.
“I think you need to sleep now, David,” I said, my heart beginning to sprint as adrenaline flooded through me.
“What I need, Car’line, is a fuck. And you’re my wife.”
I tried to swallow but my mouth was suddenly dry.
He took another step toward me. I turned and ran into the darkened yard, listening to his curses, a loud crash, and then sudden silence.
Cautiously, I peered into the pool of light spilling out from the kitchen. David was sprawled on the floor and across the doorway: out cold. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I tugged at his arm, trying to pull him across the threshold so I could close the door to the yard. He grunted, but his dead weight was too much for me. I stared down at him, wondering how the hell I’d move him.