Damn it, that was entirely too true of a statement. I didn’t have an argument for that at all. When she’d done nothing but try to escape people trying to force her into something, I’d demanded where she go and what she do. Just like that fake fiancé of hers.
“I apologize,” I told her. “That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”
We’d reached the corridor outside of the chapel, and she allowed me to steer her aside, letting the rest of the people from the ceremony head out toward the reception area.
“No one is ever trying to,” she said, crossing her arms under chest. “Everyone just seems to know what’s best when it comes to my life. And I don’t need some billionaire asshole trying to weasel his way in to do the same.”
“Whoa!” I glared at her. “I was just trying to help. You needed a place to stay, somewhere safe where no one would look for you. I had that place available. I wasn’t telling you what to do.”
“Tell her to come here,” she spat, quoting what I’d told Emerson when Laura had called her in a panic after running away from home.
“Yes, because, as I said, you needed somewhere you could be protected.”
“I don’t need to be protected,” she argued. She straightened and blew out a sigh. “What I need is to be left the hell alone.”
She shoved past me and I let her go, frustrated but knowing I’d just make the situation worse if I followed after her now. I’d give her time to cool off then try to talk to her again after the reception.
Unfortunately, she managed to disappear again. When I went to her room later that night I found that she’d switched with someone else. This girl was damned hard to track down when she didn’t want to be found.
And she obviously didn’t want to be found. I spent the rest of the cruise trying to locate the elusive Laura, but she was in the wind. And when I begged her number off of Emerson, my calls relentlessly went to a full voicemail.
I flew home alone, angry at myself and at her. Suddenly, Chase’s insane stalking of Emerson started to make sense and I vowed I’d find Laura and set everything right if it was the last thing I’d ever do.
Chapter One
~ Laura ~
Fuck my life. Fuck my family. Fuck this credit card. Fuck this damn rain and this broken-down car. Just fuck, fuck, fuck!
My head dropped forward as I took deep breaths and tried to fight my tears. I wasn’t usually a crier. I certainly wasn’t usually a swearer. But everything about this day was more than I could handle with calm and composure.
And here I was, all alone, in BFE—AKA Northern Michigan.
I leaned my head against the steering wheel, wishing some hot tow-truck driver would materialize and take away all my worries. If he looked like Luke Malloy, all the better.
And fuck my libido or whatever it was that wouldn’t let me forget that man. Even when I’d been engaged—albeit unwillingly to a man I’d never met—everything in me had stood up and paid attention the first time I’d met Luke. My girlfriends and I were in a club in Vegas, Diamond, and we’d met Luke and his brothers ten minutes before we were supposed to leave for a show.
That ten minutes? Life changing.
It was the reason I’d put down my foot and refused to marry the guy my parents arranged for me to get hitched to. Yeah, unfortunately, arranged marriages are still a thing, especially in old-school, totally religious-fanatical families like mine.
And fucking fuck that.
I grinned for the first time in an hour, enjoying my little bit of rebellion.
My refusal hadn’t gone well that day. My father had locked me up; I’d run away. I’d been subsisting on my cash savings, but when my car had broken down no one would help me without a credit card. Not that I had much cash left. I was down to my last couple hundred.
That’s how I found out my dad had canceled my Visa. Effectively stranding me. And it would be just my luck he had people watching the card. He was trying to force my hand with the credit card thing. Heck, he’d likely report my car as stolen if it weren’t in my name—a technicality from a mistake that had never been corrected. But without money to repair my car, what could I do?
For about the millionth time, I questioned not getting a job, but I was afraid I’d be traced with my social. Not that I had experience doing anything. I had an Applied Arts college degree, but it’s hard to get a gig designing people’s living rooms when you’re on the run.
I needed to call Emerson. My best friend would know what to do.
Except she was on her honeymoon.
But I was stuck, and literally, she was all I had. Sure, I had other friends, but none were as close to me as Emerson was. Plus, I knew Em didn’t particularly care for my relatives, so she was team runaway all the way. She’d been less than thrilled over my engagement but determined to stick by my side and give me every bit of support I asked for. I hadn’t asked for anything.
At first, I’d resolve to just do what my parents wanted. It was the way in our family and with all our family friends. Heck, I was lucky I hadn’t ended up a child bride. My mother had put down her foot on that and somehow kept my father from marrying me off, as she’d been when she was fifteen. She put on a good face, but I knew she wasn’t happy. She was totally stuck. For
