Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

“He won’t hurt me.”

“Why? It seems like that’s all he does.”

“Because I agreed to marry him tomorrow.”

She looks strong and defiant as she says it, like it is her choice. Maybe that’s what she needs to believe, but it’s her choice to save her friends and family from this evil monster. But it’s a choice I won’t let her make.

I look at her and softly kiss her on the lips, cherishing every moment that I have with her. Who knows when our last one together will be?

“I’m going to save you.”

She doesn’t argue with me, nor does she agree. Instead, she tightly wraps her arms around me and rests her head in the corner of my chest. She might not trust me, but she should. Because, despite what she might think, I’m not a dick.

17

Skye

I stare into the mirror, not able to accept the reflection staring back at me. My hair is dark brown and curled without a speck of blue or red or purple or any of the colors my hair usually is to make it seem bright and vibrant. My piercings are all gone. Some of the holes have even healed up. I have a simple white veil on the back of my head, an

d a simple white dress hugs my body.

I was never the princess. I was never the type of girl who dreamed of the big wedding with the big dress and the fancy decorations. That was never me, but I always thought that it could be a possibility. That maybe, someday, a man would care enough about me that I would want that. But getting forced into marrying a horrible, evil man was never my plan.

He was such a good man when I first met him, but how did someone so amazing turn out to be so horrible?

“Your coffee is three fifty,” the woman behind the bar says.

I nod and reach into my purse to pull out my wallet, but I don’t feel it. I open my purse wide, practically sticking my head inside, searching for the wallet, but it’s not there.

“I’m so sorry. It seems I left my wallet somewhere. Let me see if I have some cash at the bottom of my purse.” I frantically dig through the purse, trying to find some money to pay the woman. I was just on on a fourteen-hour flight from Monaco to LA after visiting my best friend. I have a six-hour layover until my next flight. There is no way I’m gonna survive without coffee or food or anything.

“Let me pay.”

I turn around to look at the man standing behind me. He’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Dark brown eyes, a strong jaw, and muscles for days.

I don’t usually accept money from strangers, but I’m desperate, and he is handsome.

“Thank you,” I say far too loudly.

He smiles and pays the woman after ordering his own coffee.

“How can I thank you?” I ask as we both walk away from the coffee shop in the LAX airport.

“You can keep me company while I wait for my flight.”

I smile. “I’d love to.”

We talked for hours. We both missed our connecting flight. He offered me a place to stay at his condo, and I accepted. I thought he was going to ask me out that night, but he didn’t. He was a gentleman, perfectly nice. Not a glimmer of the monster that I know he is now.

I hear a knock on the door, and I jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted let you know that it’s time,” Samantha, the wedding coordinator for the vineyard where we are getting married, says.

I take a deep breath and work on my fake smile as I stand up, grabbing the flowers out of the vase next to me.

“You look beautiful.”

I practice my fake smile again. “Thank you.”