Stealing the Groom

Thirty One

I was nervous. Seeing Max without the stress of all our awkwardness and repressed anger is so new, but also so old; so very familiar. If I closed my eyes and imagined the smile he's been handing out lately, I could almost picture us. Us in our spot, us in the cafe, us in love. It was a sort of bittersweetness, like a sadistic pain. I enjoyed seeing the darkness that tortured him gone, but at the same time it was agonizing to know I'd banished it when I let him go. 

"Are you even listening to me, Elle Chevalier?" I snapped out of my trance and smiled sheepishly at Cole. We were already at the rehearsal dinner, prepped and armed with a fake smile to mingle with NJ's elite.

"Yes yes of course I was! She was really hot and whatever." Cole flashed me an amused smile and downed his champagne glass.

"As true as that statement is, that's not what I said. I was just telling you that Maxton's been eyeing you since we walked in. Care to tell me why?"

My eyes widened at his words and as casually as I could I angled my chin to look behind me. My eyes met with Max's and he tipped his glass in our direction with a small smile. His eyes searched mine, for what I don't know, but the more he looked on,  the more desperate and curious his gaze became. His brows furrowed as if in deep thought, his eyes becoming pained as he looked down into the amber liquid in his glass. 

Turning back to Cole, I shared an equally bewildered look with him followed by a shrug on his part. "Looks like someone's getting cold feet."

I gasped and smacked Cole's shoulder. "That's not even funny, Cole. He loves her. I'm simply a part of his past he hadn't wanted to let go of."

Cole looked over my shoulder and frowned down at me. "He's holding on tight then." 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Cole said as he clanked his empty flute against mine, "that look he's giving you is longing. Not lust, not desire, not regret much less hate. He's fighting, but this is a war he's bound to lose."

I stood motionless as I watched Cole walk away, his words sinking in. I shook my head as if to clear it and deposited my champagne flute down on a tray. Making my way out of the room, I walked down the empty hall trying my hardest not to think of what Cole just said. 

It's been resolved. Max loves my sister, and he's to be married in less than twenty-four hours. It's done...so why does it feel as if it's merely the beginning?

Suddenly a force shoved me, causing me to stumble into a different room. I gasped as I stumbled into the wall and winced as my ankle twisted in pain. What the hell was that?

"Ellie," a dark voice said. "It's been years."

I let out a shaky breath as panic and fear flooded my bloodstream. "Dex."

My eyes met his, and a shiver ran down my spine at the sheer darkness inside. It was like tar, boiling hot and inky black. 

I opened my mouth to scream but his hand muffled my attempt. His other hand snaked around my neck and shoved me against the mirror behind me. I closed my eyes as the pain overwhelmed my senses. 

His smell, his putrid scent, filled my nostrils and his hands on my skin repulsed me. He seemed to sense this and a wide, diabolical smile shaped itself on his lips. 

Dexter's hand freed my mouth, but before I could gather enough oxygen to shout, both his hands wrapped around my neck and he lifted my feet off the ground. 

I gagged as my throat was lodged shut, gasping for breath. My hands clawed at his, desperate for release. He laughed, a dark sound that dripped over me in a malevolent embrace.