Page 136 of Beautiful Scars

“You don’t mean that.”

She gives up on pushing and tries to pull my fingers off her. “Let me the fuck go! I’m not playing this time.”

I shrug my shoulders, not letting go of her wrists. “Me neither. And I can go all night.”

She stares up at me, venom in her eyes. “You had no right! Absolutely no fucking right!”

“Just like I had no right drugging you. Fucking you. Keeping you. Marrying you. When are you going to learn that doesn’t fucking stop me?”

This time when she rips her hand away, I let her.

And I regret that as soon as I see what’s coming.

Her hand lands on my cheek with a crack. “Fuck you, Cillian Hendry. And fuck me too, for falling for this bullshit.”

She stands up and her eyes dart toward the door. I turn around to see what is so interesting, and get my answer in the form of my brother.

Meisie takes my split second of distraction to storm right past me.

I don’t bother chasing after her. Instead I sink back on my arse, landing on the carpet.

“Don’t say a word,” I tell Cole.

He chuckles as he strolls into the room and takes the sofa. “Wasn’t going to.”

I grunt at him.

We’ve barely spoken since the other night. I assumed he’d be off on some cocaine-fueled bender, but if it wasn’t for the black eyes then he’d look surprisingly fresh.

“You should change,” he says, lighting up a cigarette. “The car’s coming at seven. And you look like shit.”

“Throw them over.”

I catch the packet and light one up. Doubt Meisie will be back down tonight so it doesn’t really matter, but I go and open the window anyway.

“Fuck you talking about cars at seven?”

He smirks. “I booked the VIP lounge at this belter of a nightclub. Thought we’d give you a proper stag-do.”

“A stag-do?”

He shrugs. “Aye. Let’s face it, you’re not going to get married again, are you? Once all this is over, we’ll go back to normal.”

I laugh at him and stick my head further out of the window. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Everyone’s here for the weekend. McCabes are through from Glasgow. Stantons drove up from Manchester this morning. The fucking Connollys! We’ve not seen them in years. And I got in touch with your old football team. Started a WhatsApp group and everything.”

I’m still chuckling through my exhale, not quite believing he’s made this much effort. “Well, you can all go out without me. Where did you book?”

“Asylum.”

My head comes back in the window so quickly I almost bash my skull off the wooden frame.

“Arguably the most violent people in the whole country, and the place you thought to take them wasournightclub?”

He grins at me, then shrugs his shoulders. “I know. That’s why you kinda need to be there, mate.”

I shake my head. “Arsehole.”