I don’t think.
I justsnap.
My fist collides with his face so hard that he drops in an instant. His body hits the ground like a sack of feed, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Fist after fist, years of fury pouring out of me, of beatings and bruises and words meant to break me, all of it boiling over until suddenly strong arms are ripping me off him and Seth and Scarlett are shouting my name.
“Get him out,” Troy grits. His tie is loose, dress shirt bloody and I realize it was him who pulled me off my dad and likely stopped me from ending his life the way I wanted to. “Get him out of here before he makes even more of a scene and ruins this whole fucking night for Regan.”
Cash rushes in, helping Colt haul my dad off, but I’m already gone, my body moving without thought as I stumble through the trees and towards the parking lot. Seth guides me to a spare golf cart while my head spins and my hands shake as adrenaline courses through my body. And then I see her.
Regan.
She’s a few feet away, the music still playing, the party still moving on the dance floor, but she’s frozen in place watching. Her eyes—wide, searching, afraid.
Of me.
The monster that she just married again.
Chapter 31: Hayes
Seth speeds off into the night, making the short drive down the dirt path that connects the Marshall farmstead to the Mayberry Manor, but my pulse won’t slow. My whole body is vibrating with anger, shame, confusion and hatred at myself with nowhere for it to go. I need to ride something. I need my horses, the only thing that has ever grounded me, but I haven’t had the time to get them yet. Haven’t had a break from work and preparing for this goddamn wedding to do it.?
I claw at my collar then end up ripping off my shirt, the buttons shoot off like tiny little bullets and splay across the golf cart floor and onto the ground underneath the wheels before I toss the fabric off the side of the cart. The second we pull in front of the house, I’m jumping out of the cart, stomping through the front door and heading straight for the kitchen. I need a drink. A real one. Something to take the edge off this pain.
I yank open the liquor cabinet and grab the first bottle of whiskey I can find. The cap twists off with a quick flick and clatters against the counter just as Seth storms in behind me, his face tight with worry. I hate that I’m the reason he looks like that—but right now, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except finding a way to shut it all off, to keep myself from going back there and doing something I can’t undo. Something that would make sure my father never hurts another person again.
“Hayes wait—”
I don’t let him finish. I tip the bottle back and take a long, burning gulp.
“Don’t let him get to you,” he pleads with me.
I pour a glass full then down it in one, long pull. The burn barely registers in my stomach. My body vibrates with the need for more.
“Dammit!” I shout, thinking about the look on Regan’s face when she saw me.
I need to erase everything that happened. Redo this entire night so that I can go back to when she looked at me like I was everything and not some sick monster sent to destroy her heart. I reel back my arm and then slam the empty glass against the wall, watching it shatter into a hundred tiny fragments all over the floor. Then I take the bottle straight to my lips and chug like it’s the only thing keeping me standing.
“Hayes, you’re not him. Don’t be this guy. This is what dad would do, drown himself in alcohol and then take it out on other people.”
I glare at him over the top of the glass, but I don’t stop. Not until Seth’s eyes widen in fear as he watches me almost finish off the handle, then lunges towards me, tackling me to the ground. Thewhiskey bottle slips from my grip, crashing against the floor and I land on it awkwardly, slicing open my hand in a way I know I’m going to pay for during my next shift.
“Cut it out, man!” His arms lock around me in a crushing hold but I’m bigger and stronger than him. I fight back. “Please, don’t do this,” he pleads.
But it’s too late. The damage is done. Easily ten shots deep, plus the beer from earlier—I’m drowning, but I don’t feel numb enough. I need something more to drag the last of me out of here. He showed up, ruined my day, then had me ruin Regan’s too. It’s fucking unforgivable and he’s right, I’m just like him. Maybe I don’t share his DNA, but I sure as shit got something from him.
The front door to the home suddenly flies open and Seth and I both jerk our heads up from the floor to see who it is. Regan’s standing in the doorway, still in her wedding gown, looking at us in complete shock. It’s exactly what I need to push me over the edge. To remind me that I’m nothing and never will be anything despite all my accomplishments, because all I do is hurt the women in my life.
Her eyes widen as she scans the wreckage of our home—broken glass, spilled liquor, me pinned to the floor like a caged animal, hand bleeding on the new flooring her and Colt just installed. The edges of my vision blur, but I don’t miss the sharp authority in her voice.
“Everyone, get the hell out! Right now!”
Molly and Rae hover behind her in the doorway, uncertainty painting their features. “Regan, we should stay. We can help—”
“No.” Her voice leaves no room for argument and her gaze never leaves mine. “I’ll handle this.”
Seth’s arm drops from around my shoulders as they nod and quietly step out. He stands, shoots me one last disappointed look, then follows them out, closing the door behind him, leaving just me and my bride behind.
I scramble to stand, slicing my other hand open on a piece of glass and cursing the entire way. I barely register the pain because all I see is her watching me, her face painted in something worse than fear: Disappointment.
