But I need him.
Desperately.
“Excuse me.” Winston’s voice suddenly comes over the speakers and everyone’s head swivels in the direction of the tiny stage, where Winston is currently standing next to the piano, a spotlight shone upon his golden head, his hair gleaming in the light. He’s scowling out at the audience, his gaze searching as he scans the room and I wonder who he’s looking for.
When I spot Caroline joining her son on stage, I realize my husband isn’t standing next to him, which was the original plan for tonight. Both brothers were going to make a speech, while their mother looked on proudly. Perry has been practicing his speech for weeks.
I glance around, hoping to find him but he’s nowhere in sight.
And that’s not like him.
He wouldn’t ditch Winston. This night—this speech was important to him.
Winston’s gaze finds mine and he sends me a questioning look. I can only shrug at him in return, my head swiveling left, then right.
Still no Perry.
“I was hoping my brother would join us, but it looks as if he’s preoccupied. Most likely making a business deal in the bathroom,” Winston says to tepid laughter.
Huh. Maybe that is where he’s at. He did drink an abundance of champagne earlier this evening.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I head for the restrooms, in search of my husband. If I get to him in time, I’m sure he’ll be able to make his speech and no one would be the wiser that he almost missed it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Perry
Normally I’d relishfinding myself in this situation. Ready to head back out, only for my archnemesis, my biggest enemy to stroll into the bathroom like no big shit. As if he belongs here. I’d sling an endless string of insults at him and sock him square in the fucking jaw, sending him to the ground. His head would bounce off the cold tile floor and I’d jump on top of him, grab the front of his shirt and slam the back of his head into the floor again.
And again.
I’d take great pleasure in bringing this asshole pain. I’d probably take even greater pleasure in ending his life, knowing he’d never be a problem in our lives again.
None of that happens though. Not when the guy I hate more than anyone else in the entire fucking world is standing in front of me with a gun clutched in his right hand, that very hand twitching nervously, his finger resting on the trigger.
Fuck me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my voice calm yet edged with steel.
Seamus grins and it’s downright maniacal, I swear. Straight out of a horror movie. “I was invited.”
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth.” He rubs the outside of his thigh with the barrel of the gun and I promise myself right then that my eyes can never leave it. “You Constantines are so damn stupid, with all of your extra security you put into place. Yet all a person has to do is say, ‘I’m here for the Halcyon party,’ and they let any old loser in.”
I remain quiet while Seamus laughs, the sound grating and I consider lunging for him. Knocking the gun out of his hand. Would I be fast enough? I’m younger. Probably quicker too. But all it would take is his finger pulling the trigger and he could get me.
Can’t risk it. I’m about to be a father. I need to stay alive for my baby’s sake.
And my wife’s.
We both remain quiet until I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
“What do you want?” I bite out.
“Your wife. She belonged to me first, you know.” His gaze turns distant as I assume his memories of the time he spent with Charlotte hit him. I try to ignore his use of the words, she belonged to me first.
Well she belongs to me now, asshole.