Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2) Read online

  “Oh, she's alright,” I teased back. “Could've done a better bodice but—” I caught a flash of anger in Sierra's eyes and laughed. “You know I'm joking. This dress is perfect, and one-of-a-kind. I couldn't have asked for more.”

  “I practically broke two fingers and went blind making it for you,” Sierra said. “It's my chef-d'oeuvre.”

  “Sorry to correct you, but I think you mean hors d'oeuvres, and you're using the word wrong,” Callista said. “Hors d'oeuvres are—”

  “You need to brush up on your French, Cally,” Sierra interrupted. “Chef-d'oeuvre means masterpiece.”

  Callista's face fell. “Oh. Right.”

  “All done,” Marissa announced, standing back so my bridesmaids could flock around me.

  “You're going to give Rob a heart attack,” Rose squealed.

  “Absolutely radiant,” Terri agreed, bringing the corner of a tissue to her eyes.

  “Most beautiful bride in the room,” Callista joked with a wink.

  “You guys, don't get all teary on me,” I said. “You wouldn't want me ruining two hours of makeup would you?”

  Click-click-click.

  I'd forgotten the photographer was in here. The five of us did a quick pose for the camera.

  “Need more candid shots,” Reggie said, raising his camera again. “Just pretend I'm not even here.”

  Just then, a caterwauling woman decked in layers of ruffled tulle burst in screaming, “Oh Rachelle, you look stunning!” My mother was outrageously overdressed and her mascara was already smearing. Her over-powdered face made her look like a marshmallow. She clearly had no idea how to dress or look for her eldest child’s wedding. I held back a chuckle.

  “Mom!” I sprang up and moved towards her, my heavy train bogging down my progress. It was a full workout just moving around in this thing.

  “No rush, no rush. Take care of the dress,” Mom said. After we hugged, Mom gave me another once-over. “Absolutely amazing. Where's Sierra? I've got to pay her my compliments.”

  “Here Mrs. Wu,” Sierra said, popping out from behind Terri. “And thank you. I'm glad someone appreciates my effort.”

  “I'm going to recommend you to everyone I know,” Mom said. “Your designs are breathtaking. Absolutely marvelous.”

  Adele popped her blond head inside and said, “Ten minutes.”

  “I think I'm ready,” I announced as confidently as I could. “Are you guys all ready?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Let's get the show on the road then.”

  “Do you need me to stay and help you?” Terri offered.

  “No, I think I can handle it. I’m just going to talk to Mom for a bit. You go ahead and wait for me downstairs.”

  Terri nodded and smiled. “Chin up, gorgeous. Today’s your big day. Smile!”

  I pulled my lips into a hesitant smile and Terri gave me a little wave.

  Everyone shuffled out the door in single file. Adele continued barking orders into her headset, her voice echoing down the hall. After all my bridesmaids headed downstairs, I was left alone with Mom.

  “I'm so happy for you, Rachelle. This—all of this—I've been dreaming about this day since you were a child. The day you'd finally find your soul mate, settle down and start a family. I'm proud of you, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Don’t forget to mail out the thank-you cards…Oh and can you buy me a hand-made comb from Bali?”

  “I’ll do my best, Mom.”

  “Remember to smile the entire time, and keep your back straight.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Listen, I should head downstairs now but I'll see you in a bit,” Mom said. “Love you.”

  I nodded. “Love you too, Mom.”

  Mom blew me an air-kiss before disappearing.

  I watched Marissa wash her make-up brushes with a special cleanser. Her assistant packed the curling iron back in its case. “Thanks again, Marissa. Cindy. I look amazing. You two are superstars,” I said.

  “Go get 'em Rachelle,” Marissa said, grinning. “Don't forget to send me some photos after!”

  “You’re a knock-out,” Cindy agreed. “Now go, they’re waiting!”

  I nodded, picked up my train and made my way out the door. The ceremony space was down two flights of stairs, inside the Rose Room, a lavish ballroom Adele had transformed into my Winter Wonderland. The venue was complete with Swarovski crystal vases, ice sculptures, harpists, and massive white hydrangea centerpieces.

  It would take me some time to make it down there, but I knew I sure wasn't doing it in six-inch heels. I removed my stilettos and hooked my fingers around the straps. I'd slip them back on downstairs. For a brief second, I had a flashback of when I removed my stilettos at Dalton River. Kieran…

  I dismissed the memory and stared straight ahead. Pushing my chest out and straightening my back, I moved forward in rhythmic steps.

  My bridesmaids clamored downstairs. “Hurry up Rachelle,” I heard one of them hiss. “Slowpoke!”

  “Coming!” I called out, reaching for the polished banister.

  But before I could even take a single step, a rough hand grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back hard. I sucked in my stomach and was preparing to scream when the same hand closed over my mouth and a husky, all-too-familiar voice said, “Don't.”

  What the hell?

  That voice. How could I forget that buttery voice? The one that'd been swimming in and out of my daydreams for the past few days?

  The hand slipped off my face and I swerved around, to the best of my ability. My tight corset squeezed my chest, making me sweat. “What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.

  “Hello to you too,” Kieran said. “You look beautiful. No, scratch that, ‘beautiful’ doesn’t do you justice. You look stunning.”

  “I'm getting married in five minutes,” I said. “I don't have time for games.” My whole body was a furnace and my patience was thin. Kieran was the last person I expected to show up at my wedding.

  “Trust me, Princess, this isn't a game.”

  “What's going on?” I asked. I groaned as I bent down to unhook my train from a potted fern. Thank God the fabric didn’t tear or Sierra would skewer me. My chest was tight as I looked into Kieran’s hard, gray eyes.

  “I'm in some trouble. I need your help,” Kieran said, resting a hand on each of my shoulders and squeezing them. “I don't know anyone else who can help me.” The heat from his palms radiated down my shoulder blades, making my breath catch.

  I sighed. “Kieran, I'm getting married. Like, right now. I can't help you.”

  “Please, Rachelle.”

  I perked up my ears and heard one of the girls calling my name again. “They're all waiting for me,” I said, pushing away. “I can’t.” The last time I helped him, I ended up nearly catching hypothermia. I wasn’t falling for those puppy-dog eyes again. Or his dirty tricks.

  “No time to explain. I need a ride out of here,” Kieran said, adjusting the strap of his duffle bag. He looked like he’d packed for a long road-trip. In a hurry too, judging by his disheveled appearance. Clearly, he wasn’t here to wish me a happy marriage.

  “Loan me your car?” he asked.

  “I came here in a limo,” I said. “And what exactly is going on? Can't it wait until after the wedding? This is—”

  “It can't wait another second,” Kieran said. “I need to skip town. Now.” He was wearing a wrinkled t-shirt with hole-ridden jeans. A week’s worth of beard covered his pale face. Unkempt, scruffy and panicky.

  My face sank and my head spun. “What the hell did you do, Kieran?”

  “Just take me to the limo,” Kieran said.

  I stood up straighter. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”

  Kieran's hand dipped into his jacket pocket and he withdrew something black and shiny. A gun. He pointed the muzzle at me. “Take me there. Now.” His gray eyes had turned to stone and beads of sweat rolled down his jaw. His hand
was trembling.

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay, Kieran, okay. Just calm down. I'll take you. Put away the gun.”

  I started walking down the stairs and Kieran followed. The naked soles of my feet met the cool stairs one at a time. Breathe, Rachelle. Although the gun was hidden in Kieran’s pocket, his right hand remained clasped over it.

  Why was he here? Why did he have a gun? And why the hell was it pointed at me?

  At the bottom of the stairs, I saw my bridesmaids waiting by the exit sign. They were laughing and waving at me. My heart beat wildly as I tried to assess my options.

  “What the hell took so long, Rachelle? We're already four minutes behind schedule,” Adele barked. “Hurry up Rose, you should get going. Mickey’s waiting.”

  “Sorry, I uh—just bumped into—uh an old friend,” I explained, glancing at the scruffy man beside me.

  Terri looked up and saw Kieran. She arched her brow at me. “What's he doing here?”

  “It's complicated,” I said. “Anyway, you guys go ahead. I have to go to the bathroom real quick. Be back in a minute, I promise,” I lied, hoping they’d buy my excuse.

  Adele looked like there was a firecracker lit under her ass. Her eyes bulged. “No time to pee, we're late!”

  “Thirty seconds. I really have to go,” I begged. “Please.”

  “Fine, but seriously, no more than a minute,” Adele warned.

  “Thanks, Adele.”

  I waited until Adele and the bridesmaids had disappeared before making my way to the other exit down the hall.

  One step, two. Two steps, three.

  My picture-perfect wedding was slipping farther and farther away.

  I heard the string quartet playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’ as the hotel doors shut behind me. Once Kieran and I were outside, at the opposite end of the building, I pointed to the black limo parked on the curb. “There, happy now?”

  “Tell the driver to let me in,” Kieran said.

  “He'll ask questions,” I said.

  “Just do it.”

  I walked around to the driver's side and knocked on the window. The driver lowered it. “I wasn't expecting you to finish early,” he said, putting down his newspaper.

  “We uh—we haven't started yet,” I explained. “Thing is, my friend here really needs a ride. Can you drive him wherever he needs to go?”

  The driver shook his head. “Sorry, but I'm only supposed to drive the bride and groom to—”

  Kieran pointed his gun to the driver's face and said, “Get out of the car, now.”

  The poor man held up both hands and mumbled, “Okay, okay. Don't shoot.”

  My lips quivered and I tasted bile. This had to be a nightmare. This wasn’t the Kieran I knew: this man was manic. “Kieran, please, put the gun away. You're scaring me.”

  “Get in the car Rachelle,” Kieran said, gesturing to the passenger seat with his gun.

  “Hold on, you said—”

  “I changed my mind. I'm taking you with me.”

  “I—No—”

  “Get. In,” Kieran said. He grabbed my wrists hard, dragging me around to the other side of the vehicle. Opening the door, he shoved me inside before slamming it closed again. Kieran held his hand out and the driver gave him the keys to the limo. In return, Kieran gave the driver a hundred-dollar bill. “You saw nothing,” he hissed. “Now scram.” I watched as the limo driver started running away as fast as he could.

  Kieran slid into the driver’s seat, tossed his duffle bag in the back seat and turned the ignition. The limo’s wheels screeched as we peeled away from the curb.

  Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. How did it turn into the worst?

  Minutes later, we were on the freeway. I looked out the side window, my entire body tense, borderline paralyzed. Cars, trucks and vans whizzed by us, taking no notice. I could hear the tin cans rattling against the asphalt. Terri had fastened them to the rear bumper earlier, along with a gaudy, hand-painted, ‘Just Married’ sign. All this fanfare for nothing.

  I wasn’t getting married today, thanks to Kieran.

  My stomach sank to the floor and I wanted to curl up in a fetal position and die. But I could not afford to show weakness.

  I was so dead. So fricking dead. Kieran might as well have shot me back there because there was no way in hell I'd ever be able to face my friends and family again. No matter what I told them, they wouldn't believe me. They'd think I was a runaway bride. The one who got cold feet and ruined a quarter-million dollar wedding.

  I had nothing on me. No way to tell anyone anything. Or call for help. All I had on was my wedding dress, with the elaborate and now muddied train pooling at my feet.

  Maybe the limo driver would grow a pair and call the cops…But he seemed truly panicky and not one to care about my plight…

  My breaths came in rapid pants and my head was dizzy.

  Who was Kieran?

  What the hell was going on?

  My eyes stung with hot tears, which tasted salty on my glossy lips. I had half the mind to just lower the windows and scream for help, but I doubted anyone could hear me on the highway. We were now in the middle of nowhere and the scenery wasn't even recognizable anymore. Everything was obscured under heavy blankets of snow. The whiteness blinded me, causing dark spots to jump back and forth across my field of view.

  This was all just a bad dream. Wake up, wake up, wake up.

  “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” Kieran said after a while.

  “How dare you?” I said, trying not to explode.

  “I didn't have time to explain,” he continued, not looking at me. “Besides, you wouldn't have understood anyway.”

  “Why did you have to drag me into it? Why couldn't you have just taken the limo and gone?”

  “I was saving you from making a terrible mistake,” Kieran said, gripping the steering wheel hard.

  “Oh? What mistake is that?”

  “Getting married.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kieran

  Okay, so I shouldn’t have kidnapped Rachelle. Clearly, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. My goal had just been to borrow her vehicle. But when I saw her all dolled up and about to get married, I couldn't help it. She was too goddamn beautiful. Too precious. Robert couldn't possibly give her the life she deserved. Sure, their life might've been comfortable and safe...but she deserved so much more than to settle for a boring-ass, Stepford-wife kind of life.

  Rachelle was so young. So gorgeous. So feisty...

  So, fuck all the rules. She was riding with me.

  Besides, in the event that the cops did catch me…she might be my only hope. She might carry the torch for me and complete my mission. I didn’t have anyone else. Maybe…if I played my cards right…

  When Terri paid me, she’d mentioned that Rachelle was getting married at the Grande-Marriott today. I was hoping to stop by, see Rachelle one last time, borrow her car…Oh fuck it, I just wanted to see her again. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, period. Something long dead awakened inside me the night I met Rachelle. I wanted to add fuel to that fire, not let it smolder to ashes. Maybe the idiot in me thought I could somehow convince her to come with me. Abandon her responsible life, and come cruise in my hectic one. But since she was so stubborn, and I didn’t have time to explain anything, I decided to just force her to come with me. Taking her by gunpoint. Not my brightest idea.

  Okay. It was the worst idea I ever had. Fuck.

  The limo cruised along the Interstate, its wheels humming along the asphalt, occasionally kicking up dirty slush. Soft flurries brushed against the windshield, caressing the glass. Rachelle hadn’t said a word in over ten minutes. Hot air from the vents blasted against my face, making me sweat. I turned down the heat and turned up the radio. Santa Baby was on again. Christmas jingles had been playing everywhere I went on an endless loop. Christmas was a bloody holiday that capitalists invented to rake in more cash. Force consumers to feel good abou
t spending money, and guilty about saving. Fucked up, really. I’d never bought into that bullshit. Even as a child, I hated Christmases. Almost as much as I hated my parents.

  “Rachelle,” I said, clearing my throat, “thing is, I need your help. I need to get to Seattle.”

  “Fuck you,” she snapped, before crossing her arms and staring out the window.

  “I know, you have no reason to help me, but we've come this far already, and I can't turn back now. It's a sixteen-hour drive to Seattle. Once we get there, I'll let you go.”

  “Let me go now. Please. I won't tell anyone where you're going,” Rachelle said, her voice softer. “My parents are going to be so mad. And all the guests...You've ruined a quarter-million dollar wedding.”

  “Did you really want to get married today?” I asked.

  “Of course I did!” Rachelle said. “Why else would I be wearing this?” She gestured to her poufy wedding dress. “Rob’s mom will murder me in my sleep.”

  “You've been complaining about how everyone will be mad at you, but you haven't mentioned once how upset you are that I ruined your chance to marry Robert.”

  “Of course, that's a given,” Rachelle said. “Robert will be humiliated. He might never talk to me again.”

  “If he really loves you, he'll understand,” I said.

  “No, he won't. Do you know what's it's like to have your bride run away in front of three-hundred guests? His family and mine are so traditional. It's the ultimate disgrace.”

  “You didn't run away, I kidnapped you. Not the same thing,” I offered.

  “It's even worse. People will gossip. Wonder why you targeted me, and how I know someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Clearly, you're in trouble with the cops.”

  “Clearly.”

  Rachelle sighed. “The biggest crime I’ve ever committed was underage drinking. Once. How do you think my family and Rob's will react when they learn I've been kidnapped by a criminal? A hired entertainer from my bachelorette party?” Rachelle's face sank as the reality of her words set in. “I'm so screwed. They’ll never understand.”