Until the End (Sea Breeze #9)(57)

Tears burned my eyes as I ran my fingers over the white satin of the dress I’d had made specially for me. For our special day. The day I had dreamed of long before Preston Drake loved me.

“Amanda?” Willow asked as the door to my bedroom opened. “Are you okay?”

I started to nod, then said, “No.”

Her hand rested on my shoulder. “What you saw . . . I think that text message was something that he needs to have a chance to explain. Once Marcus finds him, if he lives through that, then you should talk to him, sweetie. Don’t call it all off just yet. Give him a chance, if he isn’t in the hospital, to explain himself.”

I didn’t want Marcus to hurt him. Even after seeing that text on Preston’s phone. He’d left his cell in the car when I had dropped him off this afternoon after we’d had his final fitting for his tux.

Greg: Same place. Ready to be f**ked just as hard as you did it last time. My pu**y is all wet.

I had sat in my car, staring at the text message from Greg, who I knew he worked with. And was, the last time I checked, a guy. Twice I had almost dialed the number, but I hadn’t been able to. Checking his other contacts, I found another Greg but it was a different number. The only explanation was that he was using Greg’s name to save some . . . some . . . slut’s phone number. I felt ill again.

“I just can’t believe this. I thought . . . I mean, he acts like he loves me. He is always with me. He never once gave me any hint . . .” I trailed off, staring at my wedding dress.

“He adores you. That’s why this text makes no sense. So just take a deep breath. Let’s have a glass of wine. You can come back to my place if you don’t want to stay here.”

I had stayed in the apartment I lived in with Preston, waiting on him to come home. He had to work tonight. Marcus had gone after him immediately. Willow had called Dewayne and Rock and warned them to go after Marcus. She was afraid he’d kill Preston.

“I just don’t see how there can be an explanation for this,” I said, sitting down on the chaise beside me.

“If you called the number, maybe that would answer your question. Maybe Greg was . . . joking . . .” She trailed off.

That wasn’t believable. But neither was the fact that Preston was cheating on me. He loved me.

“I’m calling the number. There has to be an explanation. We need to figure it out before your brother kills your groom,” Willow said, taking the phone off the bed, where I had dropped it and left it.

She pressed the number and held it to her ear. I watched her, holding my breath. When her eyes went wide, my stomach dropped and my chest felt like it had exploded.

“Who is this?” she asked, going from surprised to angry. “Jill who? . . . Willow Hardy. Now answer my question.” Willow was scowling. “How do you know Preston Drake?” Willow closed her eyes and swore. “She hung up.”

I couldn’t talk. Or breathe. Or talk. I bent over and grabbed my knees, wanting to wake up from this nightmare. That had to be it—this had to be a nightmare. An awful one.

“Her name is Jill Vick. She was at the club. I heard Jackdown playing in the background.”

Jill Vick. It wasn’t Greg. It was Jill Vick.

I didn’t know a Jill Vick. I didn’t know anyone with the last name of Vick.

Oh God, I wanted to scream but I couldn’t breathe enough to scream.

“I was trying to stay positive about this, but now I hope Marcus beats his ass,” Willow said, throwing the phone back on the bed.

“We’re getting married,” I said, looking up at Willow. “Saturday. We were going to promise forever to each other. I don’t understand.”

A sob burst out of me, and I curled up on the chaise lounge and let the pain in my chest free. I had to do something before I completely broke in two.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry.” Willow sat beside me, trying to soothe me, but it didn’t help. Nothing would ever help. I couldn’t get through this. I would be broken for life.

Preston

After the crew Dewayne had working on the condo going up on the east beach left, I went through and made sure things were unplugged and expensive shit was locked up. It was Dewayne’s night off from doing this.

When he brought me on a couple of months ago, I had agreed to take over some of his responsibilities so he could get home to his family. Soon I would be taking off for a week for my honeymoon, so I owed him extra time this week. He didn’t demand it, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. He’d hired me as soon as he could give me a job that paid what my bouncer job had paid.

I hated working nights, and he knew it. This had fixed my problem. I had a fiancée at home I wanted to be snuggled up to na**d in my bed. And f**king. Lots and lots of f**king. Grinning, I picked up the trash that had been left behind, then headed down to the Dumpster. These guys were pigs. They left empty Coke bottles and chip bags all over the place. What was the big deal with cleaning that shit up?

Headlights lit up the empty parking lot, followed by a second set of headlights and then a third. What the hell? Was there a parking lot party about to go down that I had to put a stop to? I just wanted to get home to Manda.

Stupid teenagers.

Closing the lid of the Dumpster, I turned and started walking toward the headlights when a car door slammed and I heard Marcus yell my name. Confused, I stopped in my tracks.