Mad Love (30 page)

Before I can say a word and tell Jerry that it will never happen, someone else does and my body goes cold.

“It’s a little too late for that.” An angry voice I recognize cuts right into our conversation. “And I suggest you get your fucking hands off her before I rip them off your body!”

I quickly move away from a bewildered Jerry, who’s gone deathly still. My eyes find Clayton, hidden in the shadow of a palm tree, arms crossed, wearing the most lethal look I’ve ever seen in my life. How is he here? Isn’t he supposed to be in Singapore? And oh my God in the short while I’ve known him, I’ve seen many furious looks from Clayton, but this, this has got to be the worst.

He’s still wearing his navy blue suit pants and white business shirt he left in, and the top buttons are undone against the brutal heat. His hair is windblown and he looks tired, but still good.

His gaze slices over me in undeniable fury then moves back to Jerry.

As Erik would say,
motherfucking shit
.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Jerry asks him coolly, sounding offended and a bit intimidated. However athletic and tall I once thought Jerry was, Clayton absolutely puts him to shame. There is simply no comparison. Clayton outshines Jerry in every way. And Lord Almighty, why is
he
here? He should still be in Singapore!

“Clayton Sinclair. And you’re Jerry,” he answers him in that arrogant, condescending English voice that he likes to use sometimes. Jerry immediately stands a bit taller as he looks him over. I wonder how long it will take Jerry to figure out why Clayton is acting like he owns …

“Who the fuck is this, Sophie?” Jerry turns angry eyes on me.

“Watch your mouth!” Clayton roars at him.

Right, the pot calling the kettle black. Obviously this is not the time to point that out.

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my girl!” Jerry snaps at Clayton, not one ever to back down in a fight. Oh no.

“Jerry … ” I begin to say that I’m not his girlfriend, but Clayton interrupts me.

He takes a menacing step toward Jerry.

“She’s
not
your girl.”

“Who the fuck is this British Prick, Soph?” He gives Clayton a look of complete disdain. “And where does he get off giving me shit?” Jerry turns to look at me, pins me with his smart gaze, wanting me to tell him what I’m guessing he’s already figured out. The tears continue to fall because I realize that he will never talk to me again, that this friend of mine from childhood will never want to look at me again.

“Jerry, I don’t know why you came here … ” I begin shakily.

“Who is he?!” he screams at me, enraged. I’ve never seen him like this in my life.

“I’m the man she’s sleeping with,” Clayton says in a voice that is possessive, that announces complete ownership, and I just want to die. He could have said a million other things, but he chose to say the one thing that would kill Jerry, to know that I ran away and in the course of two weeks slept with a complete stranger. It would hurt anyone, especially if they crossed the world to try and win you back.

“That’s a lie.”

“Ask her.”

Jerry turns and looks at me, his face ashen. Childhood memories flash through my mind as I face the finality of our relationship. I wipe the tears off my face and nod.

“It’s true,” I whisper.

At first Jerry doesn’t believe me, then he looks at Clayton’s victorious face.

“This
guy is who you choose?” he says to me. “This condescending asshole?” His voice is filled with disgust. His misguided love has turned to hate in an instant. Even though I didn’t ask him to come here, even though I broke up with him, I still don’t want him to look at me like I’m the most loathsome, disgusting creature he’s ever laid eyes on. I still don’t want him to judge me. It hurts so bad to see.

“Please don’t say that,” I beg him for many reasons, the main one being that Clayton Astor Sinclair happens to be advancing on him, and I’m truly afraid for my friend.

“I thought you were so innocent,” he says, then shakes his head in fury. “
You flew across the world to get laid by a foreigner, Sophie?
You’re nothing but a goddamn whore!”

When Jerry utters the last word, Clayton’s rage bubbles over. He picks Jerry up and throws him across the sand, his fury giving him superhuman strength. Jerry tries to stand, but Clayton punches him so hard in the face that he goes flying again.

“Clayton!” I scream at him, worried that he’s going to kill Jerry. He ignores me and pounces on him, and before I can jump on his back to try to pull him off, Erik, Orie, and Eduard are there, grabbing Clayton and holding him off Jerry. It takes all three men to do it.

Jerry’s face is bloody, but at least he’s moving. I feel so guilty. I feel like I’m responsible for this whole situation, and even though I know I’m really not, I don’t want Jerry to get hurt. I take a step toward him, wanting to help him up, and explain my feelings about Clayton to him, but I stop cold in my tracks when I hear Clayton’s next words.

“Take a bloody step toward him, Sophie, and I will kill him.” The primal rage in Clayton’s voice is frightening. I don’t move. Orie runs over to Jerry and tries to help him up, but he pushes him away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Jerry screams, stumbling in the sand as he gets up.

Erik and Eduard are still holding Clayton back as Jerry looks over at me in complete and utter disgust.

“I wanted to marry you! And you gave yourself to this animal!” He spits in Clayton’s direction. “He’s used you! Where do you think this is going, Sophie? You’re just an object to him! I thought you were smarter than this, but clearly I was wrong.”

Clayton fights against the hold the guys have on him.

“Just go, Jerry. You’ve said enough.” I’m sick to my stomach. Sick over his words, over him being here, over the thought that he might be right.

“Gladly.”

I’m lying in bed with Orie in their bungalow. We’re both quiet. He’s turned the television on and has given me a t-shirt to wear. Eduard and
Erik pulled Clayton to the bar, adamant that he not talk to me until he calmed down, and Orie asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I asked him to take me to their villa so I could sleep and Orie gladly agreed. But to be honest, the only place I really wanted to go was home to Los Angeles. At the villa, he handed me a glass of wine and we both got into the giant bed.

I feel so empty that I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe what just happened: Jerry showing up out of the blue, Clayton’s unthinkable rage. Thankfully, Orie let me cry, uninterrupted. Now I’m just staring at the TV.

“How are you feeling, Sophie?” he says after a while.

“Numb.”

“I don’t blame you. That was pretty fucking intense.”

“Yeah.” I pick up the glass of wine and take another sip. “You could call it that. Or totally insane.”

Orie laughs.

“Well, I guess I’m glad that Jerry finally showed us he has some balls and flew across the world to be with you. Talk about being a little too late for the party.” I know he is trying to make me see the comedy in the situation, but it’s so hard for me to look at it in that way. At least not yet.

“He shouldn’t have come.”

“No.”

We hear the key card in the door and Erik walks in. I look at him with wide eyes.

“What happening?” Orie asks as Erik walks over to the bar and pours himself a giant glass of wine. He takes a long, long sip of the drink before he turns to us to answer.

“Clayton’s getting fucked up, drunk as shit, and thankfully I think Jerry is hidden away somewhere on the island because he was nowhere in sight. I hope he doesn’t show his face again.”

Erik turns to look at me. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug as a few more tears fall. “Like shit.”

“Jerry’s a dickhead. What he said to you was so fucked up it makes me hate him even more. How fucking dare he judge you and call you names? If Clayton hadn’t beaten his ass, I would have.”

“Maybe he’s right,” I whisper softly.

“Fuck him. He doesn’t know shit,” Erik practically yells at me. “He’s fucking wrong. And don’t you let him get to you, the mother fucking piece of shit.” Crap. Erik is really angry.

Orie reaches out and takes my hand and Erik falls into one of the chairs. “And Clayton. Holy shit. I’ve never seen anyone punch someone like that. I have a whole new respect for the guy. He fights like a champ.” Erik takes another sip of his drink. “I thought he was going to kill him, I swear to God, I really did. Eduard told me that he’s never in all his years seen Clayton act that way. He was in complete and utter shock. So you’re the first, Sophie. The first to ever bring out that rage in him.”

Erik lifts his drink in salute. “Congratulations. You should feel pretty honored, babe.”

I don’t know if that’s as good a thing as Erik seems to think it is. Yes, it’s flattering. But I’m still so pissed that he would say what he did to Jerry. It was so wrong. So completely
wrong.
And even though Jerry said some pretty insulting things to me the last thing I would want to ever do is hurt him and Clayton did just that. I don’t even know what I will say to him when I face him. I can’t even think right now.

“Do you guys mind if I sleep here tonight?” I ask in a small voice. The last thing I want to do is face Clayton. Alone. With all these emotions raging through both of us. It can’t be a good idea for us to see each other tonight, even though part of me wishes I was with him, in bed, and this was all just a bad dream.

“Hell, no,” Orie smiles at me. “I kind of assumed you were. I’m excited for us to snuggle up.”

“Thanks.”

“He’s gonna come for you,” Erik tells me.

“He wouldn’t dare. Not tonight,” I say back, as I lower myself on the pillow and close my eyes.

“Oh, he’d dare alright. He’d dare anything, that guy,” Erik says, shaking his head. “He’s got one hell of a fantastic temper. Who would have thought that a Brit would be so passionate?” Erik seems totally perplexed by this. It almost makes me smile, except that this display of passion isn’t at all like the kind I prefer from him.

“Close your eyes, babe. And sleep. Tomorrow is another day,” Orie tells me as he caresses my hair and kisses me on the forehead. “Everything will be better in the morning.”

“Or in the middle of the night when he comes for you,” Erik mutters.

“He’s not coming for me,” I say back to him as I close my eyes.

“We’ll see.”

18

Exactly one hour later, I am proven wrong. The knocking starts just after Erik and Orie got into bed and fell asleep.

“Motherfucker,” Erik grumbles in annoyance as he turns on the light and walks to the door. I’m safely on the other side of the bed, the farthest away from the door, with the blankets up to my face, acting as a shield. I feel as if I’m going to have a panic attack. He came for me. I can’t believe it, no that’s not true, I think to myself … yes, you so can.

“Hey man,” I hear Erik say once the door is open.

“Is Sophie here?” Clayton asks quietly.

Where else would I be
, I think to myself, completely annoyed. He made sure that I didn’t have any other alternative than his villa. Erik opens the door and motions toward the bed, where I’m pretending to be asleep. I close my eyes tight, hoping they think I’m dead to the world.

I should know better. As if Erik will ever let me get away with that.

“For God’s sake, quit pretending. It’s so obvious. We all know you’re wide awake,” he grumbles. I know he’s exhausted but still, shouldn’t he be protecting his friend?

Clayton steps in the room, crowding the bungalow with his mere presence, instantly making it seem so small. I look over at him and raise a brow, trying to act indifferent, throwing him the same type of look he’s given me many times. He looks plastered. He stares at me hard.

“You’re coming with me.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

“Ha,” I snort, turning my back to him, wanting no part in any more drama for the evening. As if I would ever go willingly with him to his villa tonight? I even pull the covers up over my head, to show him how I’m so
not
coming with him. I know it’s a tad bit childish, but I could care less. He needs to get the point. I hear him whisper to Erik, then try to listen in as
my friend answers him, but I can’t decipher anything. I wonder what the hell they’re talking about, although I’m sure it can’t be good. Then before I know it, I’m yanked out of the bed, grabbed around the waist, and thrown like a bag of rice over Clayton’s shoulder.

“What the hell?!” I shriek in outrage. He pulls Orie’s t-shirt down to cover what would have been my bare bottom.

“See you guys at breakfast. Ten a.m.”

“We’ll be there,” Erik tells him with a smile.

I lift my head up and scream at Erik, willing him to look me in the eyes. “How dare you betray me to him!”

Erik actually smiles at me. “Love you, babe.” He waves goodbye as Clayton walks through the door. “It’s for the best. Trust me. You’ll thank me later,” he calls after us as he closes the door, shutting me out, leaving me alone. With him.

Clayton walks with me over his shoulder in complete silence, like it’s totally normal that he’s carrying me around like a sack of rice. He’s acting like a caveman! Who does this? Who behaves like this? Where was this guy raised? I thought he was English and posh—aren’t they supposed to be a culture of impeccable manners?

“Put me down! I’m not sleeping with you tonight!” I yell up at him as I try to punch him in the back. I feel his body tense up against my chest. “Did you hear me, Clayton? I said I’m not sleeping with you tonight!”

“I think the whole resort heard you,” he says dryly. He doesn’t sound like he cares. “Keep your voice down. It’s impolite not to think of your neighbors,” he orders as he smacks my ass lightly. I’m mortified and try to twist out of his arms. Drunk Clayton is not as steady as a sober Clayton, and the more I twist, the more he sways, and before I know it we’re dangerously close the edge of the pathway.

“Put me down, you Neanderthal!” I scream at him, and give him a good kick in the gut to prove my point.