Married to the Bad Boy by Letty Scott

in for a suit and tie.
    I smiled at him as he closed the door for me and walked around to get in. As he opened his door, he yelled out, “Race you there!” and he didn’t waste any time as he started the car and sped off down the driveway and onto the main road.
    I wasn’t a fan of racing so I was holding onto my seat for dear life as Brandon zipped through traffic. Was this necessary to go to a wedding?  I’m really starting to think he was trying to kill us when he turned and missed hitting a car by an inch.
    When we pulled up to the country club next to a beach, I remembered my father bringing me here when I was little. What a simpler time that was for me, before the beatings and abuse, when I believed in myself and felt loved. 
    “You ok?” I heard Brandon ask. I nodded my head, not wanting to tell him I was thinking about my past and how I was missing my dad. He sighed and got out of the car to go around and opened my door, holding out his hand for me. As he pulled me out, he wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, “By the way, you look really gorgeous in that dress.”
    I looked down at the strapless dress and saw how it hugged my chest, but flowed out and was loose the rest of the way down to my knees.
    “Thanks. Where are your mom and dad?” I looked around and didn’t see them.
    “Oh, I lost them a while back. Come on, let’s go in and find some seats before the wedding starts,” he said, pulling me inside the building. It was the same as all those years back, but before I could fully get a view of everything, Brandon tugged me to the side to where the wedding was being held.
    The room had rows of seats with white flower petals running down the center aisle. Each seat had pink covers with white bows on them. At the altar, the minister was talking to the groom, whose back was turned to us. Brandon led us to the fourth row and sat down, pulling me down next to him, making me save the two seats next to me for his parents.
    Soon after, Brandon’s dad came shouting in that his son cheated during the race. Really? Racing was dangerous, yet the elder Mitchell was complaining about his son’s cheating, not how dangerous it was. I could stop and think if there wasn’t some other ways these two could have raced against each other without me and Melinda being involved.
    I shook my head at them and returned my attention to the front of the room, particularly to the groom, and my breath got caught in my throat. His sandy blond hair and clear blue eyes, the same eyes I have. I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be seeing him again, and marrying another woman after leaving me to my mother and horrible stepfather.
    I had to take my eyes away from him. I was scared of what would happen if he saw me. It’s been eight years since he walked away from me. All I wanted to do was get up and run away from him, like he did to me. I put my hands in my lap and looked down, hoping he wouldn’t see me here.
    I felt Brandon put his hand on top of mine, making me look up at him. “What's wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “It’s nothing,” I said, giving him a shy smile. Right then the wedding march song started. I kept still in my seat, trying not to think that the man standing up front was my father.
     
     
     

10
     
     
     
     
    All I could do was sit there and watch him. Was she the reason he had left me all those years ago? No, that couldn’t be. What kind of a father leaves his daughter just so he can be with another woman?
    I’ve always thought that he had left me because of the money my grandmother had left me. It only made sense, since I never saw him after her funeral. It was like one day he was there and the next he was gone. This was all too confusing to think about as I watched him smiling down at that woman.
    “What’s wrong?” Brandon whispered into my ear, grabbing hold of my hand and stroking his thumb along it. I know he was trying to calm me down,