End of the Innocence

Chapter 55

Brad hung up the cell. “She’s at home.”

“And you don’t want to go out.”

“We did. We went to Bern’s after the rehearsal.”

“Bern’s?” Stevie shot him a look that communicated everything in one simple glare. “The king of pussy goes to a steakhouse before tying the knot.” He shook his head.

“I’ve had pussy. I don’t feel the need to jeopardize my relationship for subpar ass.”

“Then take us out so we can get some. I’ll take subpar over none. And your definition of subpar is another man’s dream.”

Brad took a long drag of his beer. “You have nothing to bitch about. There were plenty of girls at the party we had last month.”

The man snorted. “And guys. A joint bachelor party? I don’t understand how you guys can let loose and have fun when the other person is there.”

Brad laughed. “Yeah. A couple doing things together. Doomed.” He leaned back in the couch. “I hate to break it to you, Stevie, but my life as a slut is over.”

“And you seem remarkably calm about it,” Ben remarked, walking into the room with fresh beers and passing one to each of them before settling into one of the large leather armchairs.

Brad shrugged. “You know Julia. I don’t deserve her as it is. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“I’m not saying it doesn’t make sense. I’m just surprised that you recognize it.” Ben leaned forward, clinked his beer against Brad’s. “You hit a home run with her.”

Stevie groaned. “This all is great, but let’s at least order a stripper. Get a PG-rated lap dance, and then let me take her upstairs.”

“The man owns a strip club. He’s not going to get excited about some tits bouncing up and down,” Ben said dryly.

“Owned a strip club,” Brad said, finishing the bottle and setting it on the counter.

Stevie glanced over. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Didn’t seem like something a husband should have. I signed it over to Julia.”

Stevie coughed hard, sitting up and setting his beer on the floor. “Holy shit. You really are whipped.”

“Don’t give me that. You handed Nikki your balls in a velvet sack on your second date.”

The man shrugged. “Hey, she handles them better than anyone else.” He stood. “That doesn’t mean I’m turning down blowjobs from strangers. I guess I just assumed that if Brad-fucking-De Luca ever froze over hell and got remarried, that he’d go out with a bang.” He laughed. “Or five or six bangs, given your reputation.”

“Sorry,” Brad said shortly. “Guess Ben will have to be the new wild man.” He leaned forward, clapped the man on the back and stood. “Martha made some carrot cake this afternoon. You guys want some?”

They moved to the kitchen, Stevie bitching the whole way about the unnaturalness of cake at a bachelor party, before pouring a big glass of milk to drink. They drank, ate, smoked cigars on the porch, and then crashed, the two men heading to the guest bedrooms while Brad climbed the stairs to spend his final night as a bachelor, alone in his big bed. He glanced at the clock. 1:35 a.m. Too late to call, but he needed to hear her. Already missed her. He rolled over in the silent dark and tried to fall asleep.

♦♦♦

The seven month old BMW X5 4.41 was wrapped in plastic and loaded onto a vehicle transporter, along with other cars of questionable origin. It left town less than two hours after Julia Campbell’s capture, traveling north on a busy interstate, headed for Canada.