Double Dare

“Just go!” I begged. “I have to get away.”

The cabbie shook his head, muttering, “Dumbass ladies these days.”

And I sank bank into the seat as the city rolled past. Because I didn’t have a plan, not exactly. Well, I wanted to get away for sure, but the thing was where? I couldn’t go back to Union Art League, that belonged to Major Enterprises. I couldn’t back to my old job, Mrs. Patterson would report me the minute I showed my face. So I told him the address of the only possible place that Mason and Derek might not now.

“New Jersey,” I said slowly. “Mayflower Lane, in Newark.”

The cabbie jerked to look at me again.

“How do you plan on getting through the Holland Tunnel in traffic like this? Even if it’s midnight, it’s still a parking lot,” he gestured to the parade of cars going past. “I’m gonna have to charge you extra.”

And I nodded silently, bowing my head. Tears were prickling the back of my eyes, but why? This was what I wanted right?

I couldn’t handle the farce anymore, the diamond rings, the kind words, the “fiancée-appropriate” wardrobe they’d bought me. I couldn’t stand our dinners out in fancy restaurants, with cameramen on hand, complete with a press release trumpeting Mason’s upcoming wedding. I needed to be real, Katie Jones is a real woman with no artifice, and I was floundering in the swamp. The water was choking me, and I had to save myself before it got into my lungs, before I could no longer breathe and was dead on arrival.

So yes, my escape was for self-preservation, and as we entered the tunnel, I looked around. The Holland Tunnel is funny, tiled in white like the inside of a bathroom. But I guess that describes my transition. I was going from the heady, cosmopolitan bustle of NYC and straight into the armpit of the United States. But that’s what I deserved. I’d been living a lie, and gritty or not, at least Newark didn’t hide behind fancy signs and frippery trim. Newark was real, and that’s what I needed now.

And the apartment on Mayflower Lane was exactly like I remembered. Going in, I saw that it hadn’t changed one bit. Peeling wallpaper, water stains on the ceiling, and the sounds of rats scrabbling in dark corners made my skin crawl.

But at least they couldn’t find me. Dropping into a seat at the saggy dining room table, I put my head in hands, exhausted. But it didn’t stop then. Images of Mason and Derek whirled before my closed eyes, tempting me, taunting me, and I almost screamed. These were the people I was trying to get away from, the lovers who had driven me away! Why were they haunting me now?

And I couldn’t do it anymore. Internal barriers broke, like the Hoover Dam collapsing, and I cried then, the pain in my heart accented by a flood of tears. I sobbed for the dagger in my heart, the confusion and doubts swirling in my head, everything that had gone right and then oh so wrong. Because why couldn’t I pretend? Why couldn’t I just give them what they wanted and be the fake Mrs. Major? But the answer was clear. It was because I was in love with Mason and Derek, and only something real was going to do now. Only something real could make me happy, content, bringing the spring back into my step. But unfortunately, there was nothing real about our engagement … and that was never going to change.

CHAPTER TEN

Derek

“Are you serious?” I roared. “What the fuck?”

Mason shrugged, although his expression was grim.

“Yeah, Mayflower Lane or some shit like that. It’s the ghetto dude, our girl is living in the ghetto.”

Because Katie disappeared without a trace. It was unreal. One minute we were part of a trio, going at it non-stop, Mace and me spurting into the delectable female again and again. But now our girl was gone. Up in the middle of the night, in the middle of sex for crying out loud, she excused herself and made a getaway.

“How do we know she’s gone for good?” I asked grimly. “Did Katie leave a note?”

Mason just shook his head, growling with frustration.

“Naw, no note, but check this out,” he said, opening his palm. “She left this.”

And shit, but the ring was there, both diamonds glinting and winking like they were taunting us. What the fuck? That thing cost us six figures, but suddenly it seemed worthless now that Katie didn’t want it anymore. Storming into the lobby like two giants, Mace and I attacked the doorman.

“Did you see her?” I questioned Leo, hands gripping his collar. “What was she doing?”

But elderly man couldn’t help, trembling in his red and gold uniform.

“Miss had a bag with her,” he stammered, looking down, almost shaking with fright. “She had a bag and called a cab.”