Bedmates Soulmates

That's Austyn's Wife?

Her drunk friend muttered something, blissfully unaware of the situation.

'I'm not taking you drinking anymore, Giana poked a finger at her friend's flushed cheek.

Giana glanced over at the stranger.

He was leaning down in front of the slumped figure of Geoffrey, whose head was lolling sideways like a rag doll with a broken neck.

Straightening up, Austyn tromped on Geoffrey's left wrist, then the right.

He worked methodically from the man's carpal bones to his metacarpals, to his phalanges, breaking every bone in the hands that had touched Kira.

Blood was gushing out of a gaping hole in the back of Geoffrey's head.

He whimpered, too weak to cry out.

'Who the hell am I?' Austyn spat out the words. 'You don't have the right to know.'

Geoffrey's face was sheet white.

The blood loss had carried away some of the alcohol from his system.

He realised, belatedly, that the man had come down from the second floor, a place reserved for high-end clientele.

He might have finally run into someone he couldn't pick on.

'This is how Conner Walsh trains you? Did he teach you to hit on customers at the workplace?'

Geoffrey gulped. 'How do... how do you know my boss?

Jesse and Luca, who took their sweet time, had just arrived on the scene.

Jesse removed the lit cigarette dangling from his lips and gave the manager a sardonic smile. 'Nuh-uh, Walsh doesn't have that privilege. He hasn't earned the right to sit at the same table with Austyn.'

He gave the perspiring and bleeding manager a once-over. 'Butterball, you'd better haul ass and tell your boss what happened. If he's smart enough, he'll crawl to Austyn to apologise pronto. And truss you up and hand you over as a peace offering. If he catches Mr McCarthy in a forgiving mood, he might still be allowed to exist in Stamford.

Oh shit!

Geoffrey's face was drained of all colour.

No one could live in the city without having heard of the McCarthy name.

The manager started shaking like a leaf, keenly aware he was doomed this time.

Now tears and snot joined the mass exodus of bodily fluids from his massive frame.

'M... Mr McCarthy,' he clung to Austyn's leg desperately, blubbering. 'I made a mistake. I'm so sor...sorry. I won't dare do it again. I swea-ah!'

Austyn kicked the man away and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight of his pantleg smeared with the man's sweaty palmprint.

The manager's head thumped against the wall.

That s Austyn's Wife?

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His eyes rolled back into his skull, but he was in too much pain to pass out.

Austyn found Giana in a corner with her back against the wall.

He gave her a curt nod before taking Kira off her hands

His young wife was so wasted that she could barely stand.

Austyn scowled as he caught her waist to prevent her from falling.

He exhaled, then picked up the half-unconscious girl in his arms.

'Send the girl home,' he said as Kai caught up with him.

'Yes, Boss. Kai turned around to face Giana. 'Miss, please come with me. Did you drive here? Or I can get

you a taxi."

Giana was rooted to the spot.

Events had been happening so fast that she barely processed them.

Who was that man?

Where was he taking Kira?

Luca had been standing to one side, watching the scene with a disinterested eye.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw Austyn carry that girl in his arms.

That was Austyn's wife?

The one he never talked about?

He kept his eyes on the couple until they disappeared from view.

Then he glanced back at Geoffrey, who was cradling his head with both hands and sniffling.

Luca walked over and squatted down unceremoniously in front of the blubbering mess. 'Butterball, do you need police assistance? I'm an officer. I can be your witness if you want.' His smile gave Geoffrey goosebumps.

The manager forgot about his wounds and shook his head emphatically.

The hallway started to spin in front of his eyes.

The stranger must be joking.

How could he call the police without implicating himself?

Jesse was leaning against a wall, still smoking.

He had not missed Austyn's attitude to Kira, either.

It bothered him.

Austyn seemed to care a little too much about that woman, almost like he was treating her as his wife for

real.

Had he forgotten why he married her?

***

Austyn felt no compunction about abandoning his two friends.

He supported Kira's weight with one hand and fumbled for the key fob with the other.

That's/Austyn's Wife?

With some difficulty, he set Kira down on the passenger seat of the Hummer.

He had to buckle her up to prevent her from sliding down from the seat.

His face was dark.

He was about to slam the door, but eased it closed instead when he glimpsed Kira's sleeping face.

Stomping some distance away from the car, he lit up a Sobranie Black Russian.

This time, nicotine failed to deliver the promised relaxation.

He ground out the cigarette tip with his heel and strode back to the car.

The woman was slumped in the front passenger seat.

She hadn't moved at all.

Her long legs were cramped uncomfortably in the narrow space.

There was more room in the backseat, but why should she be allowed to repose in comfort and contentment while he was left seething?

Austyn scrunched his nose.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

The woman reeked of alcohol.

How much did she have to drink?

Thankfully, she wasn't the type to transform from Dr Jekyll to My Hyde with alcohol.

Even drunk, she was quiet and pliable.

The car felt stifling in the midsummer heat.

Austyn turned down the temperature of the AC.

His eyes came to rest on Kira's exposed thighs.

She was wearing shorts, so short that they barely covered her hips.

Her fair skin was glowing ivory-white under the dome light.

Austyn's pupils dilated.

Then his mind flashed back to the scene in the hallway.

If he arrived just a few seconds late, that tub of lard would have had his hands on those thighs.

Austyn's nostrils flared.

That simmering rage boiled over.

He got out of the car again and made a call.

'Good evening, Mr McCarthy,' a man's voice answered respectfully on the second ring. 'What an unexpected delight! To what do I owe the pleasure?'

'Conner Walsh,' Austyn enunciated the name slowly, like he was reading out the name of the condemned from a death warrant. 'Life must be treating you well. So much so that you seem to have forgotten your place.

What Did You Call Me?