2. That Seats Taken

Chapter 2

That Seat's Taken

G race

I felt like the mother hen as I asked the girls where they wanted to go. Like Stella had said, we were having an adventure, dressed in our bridal clothing. It was freeing in a way and yet suffocating, because I was responsible for them. I was the oldest, and I should have helped Meredith with the problem instead of running away. It would still be there when we got back.

My first thought was to take them to the beach. My mother had loved to sit on the sand and watch the waves break. It didn't matter what the occasion was. Meredith and I would run into the water to jump into the waves as she laughed nearby. Those times were some of my best memories of her.

I made the left out of the parking lot on autopilot as the girls chattered around me about nothing, but as I approached the turn for the beach, I felt like we hadn't run far enough. I had visions of Brandon and Matt showing up and ruining any happy memories we would salvage from today. Taking a quick peek in my peripheral at my sister, I knew I couldn't let that happen.

Taking the exit for the coastal highway, we made our way north with no plans, the windows down and whatever money we had in our pockets. As the girls sang along with whatever pop tune was next, I turned up the radio and smiled. It was loud and off-key, but they were happy.

Meredith's phone didn't blowup until I'd driven about an hour up the coast. My aunt had kept her word and had given us a head start.

"Do I answer it?" Meredith asked us, showing that it was Brandon calling .

"I vote no. You called off the wedding. Good riddance," Charlie said from the backseat. "I always thought something was off with him, but you were happy, so we were happy," she continued.

"I vote no too, but if you don't speak to him, he'll just keep calling," Stella piped up.

Meredith sent the call to voicemail and cranked the radio up, but it rang again. This time, she silenced the phone and left it in the cup holder. It was hard not to watch it light up fifteen more times. Brandon would call, and when no one answered, he would hang up and immediately call back.

"I have to get this over with, or he's never going to leave me alone." Meredith did a little shake in her chair to prepare. Hitting the green button on her phone, she hadn't even said hello before we heard Brandon screaming. The phone wasn't on speaker, but we heard him clearly.

"How dare you do to this to me? I will not be a laughingstock for some cheap whore."

Meredith quickly flipped it to speakerphone before responding. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Meredith. If I wanted a cheap whore, I could have bought one off the street and gotten my money's worth."

"You can still do that. Go pick one up, take her to the reception, and parade her to your family. You don't have the right to speak to me like that."

"So now you're going to pretend to be all high and mighty when you're just trailer trash in pearls?"

I could see her rolling her eyes as I continued to drive. He was trying to inflict as much emotional damage as he could, but she was holding her own, and I didn't think the name calling would hurt. However, I was having a hard time keeping my mouth closed. I wanted to yell out what I knew, but there was no place for it in their conversation. It would only make matters worse.

"Do you really think this is going to win me back? It actually just solidifies that I made the right decision. I want the fairytale, Brandon, and it's obvious you can't give that to me. Goodbye." She ended the call and blew out a breath .

I looked at her out of my peripheral vision again. She'd collected herself and was staring out the window as we continued to drive. I was proud that she had stood up to him. She didn't deserve to be treated that way. No one did, but in the back of my mind, there was this nagging worry that I'd let myself fall into the same pattern.

She caught me looking at her and turned in her seat to face me head on. "I feel like someone lifted a weight off of me I never knew was there. I am a little scared to admit that, but this was the right decision. He just proved he's not the right man."Her phone rang again. "Are they ever going to quit?" she asked as she looked at the screen. "It's his mom."

"You should turn off your phone. Otherwise, they'll just keep calling," Stella told her. "He probably told her you were being unreasonable, even though he's a douche. You know how they are."

"Good idea," Meredith responded, shaking her head.

I didn't have the heart to tell the girls that we were postponing the inevitable. Meredith would have to talk to Brandon one last time.

***

The sun was setting over the ocean when signs appeared for a beach bar.

"I wonder if they have food. I am hungry," Charlie moaned. "Hey, Mer! Next time you're planning to be a runaway bride, warn someone. We need snacks."

We laughed like a pack of hyenas, and I couldn't stop the snort that came out of my nose, causing the girls to laugh even harder.

"It has a four-star review," Stella piped in once the laughter had died down.

"You seriously checked Google, Stella?" my sister asked as she shook her head, turning around in her chair to look at her friends.

"Of course, I did. We're four hours from home. All we have are our wedding clothes and some money. I am not getting stuck in a slasher film." She shook her head so hard that her curls bounced, hitting Charlie .

"I am too hungry to die," Charlie growled, causing another round of laughter.

"We can try it, but we stick together. If anything is out of place, we'll get back in the car and leave," I firmly stated. I was too young to die when I had been sitting on my dreams for far too long. Being the perfect wife hadn't gotten me anywhere.

The girls and I made our way to the front door. They were oblivious, but I had checked the parking lot to make sure that there were no potential problems. We didn't want to be the bridal party caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

This was something straight out of a TV show. There was a long bar top that sat at one side of the room, with the liquor bottles highlighted in neon behind them. In the middle was a sunken dance floor, with tables and chairs surrounding it on the main level, so you could watch the dancers from any vantage point. On the far side was a set of double doors, which I guessed led into the kitchen. We stood in the entryway, not sure what to do.

"Grab a seat, girlies, and I'll be right there," a woman called to us from behind the bar. She had to be in her late thirties to early forties, but you would have never known by the way she dressed. She had on a lime green tube top, a short jean skirt, and fishnets. To complete the look, she'd teased out her hair at least a couple of inches. The nineties had called. They wanted their hairspray back.

We ignored the chatter that hummed around the room as we walked towards an empty table. There was more than one audible whisper about a runaway bride surrounding us, but we didn't pay any attention.

We ordered, we ate, and then the girls decided they were going to line dance. They invited me to dance with them, but I declined. The place was quickly filling with Saturday night partiers, and I didn't want to lose the table.

They were having a good time, and the bar had some excellent people-watching to keep me occupied. I should have cleared my mind and just enjoyed the night, but a group of men, all wearing the same leather vests, walked in from the door on the side .

This was what I had been afraid of. I didn't have to see the patch on their backs to know they were a motorcycle club. It was time to go, but the girls were still on the dance floor with their backs turned towards me.

As I contemplated how to get their attention, a shadow crossed over the table. Looking to my left, I saw a large man pulling out the chair next to me and sitting down like he owned the whole place.

"That seat's taken," I said. I was still contemplating how to get the girls' attention without being obvious. The men that had walked in were now surrounding the girls. It looked like they were chatting them up, and my sister was all smiles. Meredith eventually faced me, and when I waved, all she did was wave back.

"Leave them be, mama. My men won't hurt them."

I channeled my inner resting bitch face and gave him a once-over. Short cropped blonde hair, blue eyes, and a ruggedly handsome face. He looked like a girl's wet dream, and he knew it.

"You should teach your men some manners," I retorted, keeping my focus on Meredith and her friends. "Right now, they're about as charming as a swarm of mosquitos at a picnic."

He barked a laugh, his blue eyes lighting up at his amusement, but I pretended like I hadn't noticed. My eyes shifted from the girls to him and quickly back to the girls.

He pointed towards the men on the dance floor. "It's not in their nature to be charming. They don't have to when they can catch as much honey as they want with a bit of sweetness. I prefer a bit of sting."

My eyes found his as he leaned further back in the chair and spread his legs wide. He was all man, and he knew how to sit to gain the most attention, and like an idiot, I couldn't look away. I gave myself one more second to admire him openly, and then I shifted my eyes back to the dance floor.

He didn't say a word, but the smirk on his lips told me everything I needed to know. He could read my innermost desires, and they were like a filthy movie, with him as the principal actor. It felt dangerous, and I didn't like it .

"So, what happened? She ditched the groom?" he asked me, pointing towards Meredith.

"Something like that," I responded. "It just wasn't in the cards."

"It never is." He smirked again, shifting in his chair. This time, I was trying not to pay attention to the way his worn jeans molded against the muscles in his thighs.

"Have you ever been married?" I asked, as a distraction.

"Nope, it's not for me."

"How do you know if you've never tried it?" It had been a long time since I had bantered with a man. It was easy, and that was when I knew I should have stopped, but I didn't.

"I don't need to put a ring on it for free pussy."

All men were the same, and that statement had just confirmed it. I'd get a dog and live by myself.