Scott — Our Bachelor/ette parties (2)

Scott — Our Bachelor/ette parties (2)
This was the shit I had going through my mind on the night of our respective bachelor/ette parties. If I was codependent before, her pregnancy made me even more clingy. A night away from her wasn't something I could handle right now. If I pushed to be near her though, she'd know for sure that I knew and I didn't want that. I wouldn't force it out of her right before the wedding and risk ruining our day by upsetting her. Instead, she had me constantly tracking her movements on my phone while Kenny screamed weird shit into my ear.

"There are fairies on stage, Scott. Fairies and giraffes," said my very high best man.

"I know, buddy. I know," I said, smacking him on the back harder than I meant to when I saw the latest location Stacy and her friends had landed at.

"What the fuck, Scott? Was it a fairy? Where did it go?" Kenny said, grimacing at the pain.

True to his word, Kenny and Stoner Steve planned the bachelor party to rival all bachelor parties. In the last five hours, we got into a fight at a club with drug dealers (leading to my first call to Luca). Then we ended up at a massage parlour/actually a glorified brothel during a raid (leading to my first call to my dad). If that wasn't enough, we somehow ended up in the wrong limo. Leading to us getting stuck with an underboss' blood stained money (second phone call to Luca).

"You're brave, assuming I won't hold this shit over your head for all of time," said Luca, getting back into his car after he defused the situation.

"Not all of time, I'm sure. I know calling you is coming back to bite me in the ass at some point. When that time comes, remember I saved your life," I reminded him.

"You're about to become the husband of Don Luciano, Scott. Learn to make threats to cash in a debt. Like this. If you call me again to clean up one of your messes in the middle of the night, you better be half dead or I'll shoot you until you are," he said in parting, leaving behind two of his men to accompany us for the rest of the night.

By this point, I was straight up pissed off and wanted to go home. Kenny insisted on one more stop though, where we got involved in an underground fight club and I almost had to get into a ring with a professional boxer. Stacy would have loved that (second phone call to my dad). Turned out, being the only sober person amongst a group of high men, not so fun.

I felt bad about tricking my friends into thinking I got high with them, but my fiancée was pregnant. She might need me at a moment's notice. I wasn't fucking showing up at a hospital high off my ass the first time she told me about our baby. It took me five hours, but I finally realized that these assholes were high, making them susceptible to suggestion. That was how I took over the plans for the night. We ended up at a rock concert, where we would hopefully avoid any further trouble.

"Vegas," said Stoner Steve over the loud pumping music and the other men cheered.

"Black card. Las Vegas, boys," said Kenny, holding up the credit card Marlene gave him for emergencies and the cheering resumed.

"Fuck no," I said, taking the card out of his hand. "Just watch the fucking fairies."

Tony, Tessa, Marlene and even my baby sister Willow had my innocent fiancée hitting up strip club after strip club and it was pissing me off. Their latest location, however, was the final straw.

"We're leaving. Everyone in the fucking limo," I said angrily.

"Mexico," Alex, Kenny's brother, chanted and the cheering started again.

"Give me strength. No one is leaving New York City. Why the fuck are you even here?" I said, ushering everyone in the backseat before I got into the passenger seat.

"But I missed Mexico," Alex complained.

I wanted to tell him that was because we weren't friends, but clearly Kenny had something to make up for after replacing Alex as best man with me at the last second during his wedding in Fiji.

"Mexico," the other men cheered.

"Just drive," I said to the limo driver, giving him the address to the cottage.

Was there a world in which I was okay with anyone but me touching my girl's naked body? Fuck no and she should know that. If someone else touching her wasn't bad enough, it was very likely said person would have her coming, given her special erogenous zones. I always thought they would go away in time, when she grew more accustomed to life after shooting Don Angelo, but that hadn't happened yet. She had me paranoid about other people touching her. No one got to make her come but me. Not even by accident.

After putting what I needed in a bag to remind my fiancée of the same when I got to her, I got back into the limo and we drove to Kenny's, where I ditched him and our other friends.

"They go nowhere. Do nothing even remotely dangerous. Do you understand?" I said to Luca's men.

Their nodding heads did nothing to put me at ease, but I was going to get my fiancée no matter who said what about it. How long had I wasted on these stupid trips already?

"Step on it," I said to the limo driver once I had gotten into the backseat.

It wasn't customary for a massage parlour to be open at this hour, much less a place as fancy as this. Marlene must have pulled some serious strings to make this happen. It was probably a private party type of deal. That at least would make Stacy easier to find. My brain was too angry for a plan. It was filling up with the sounds of her moans, the sight of her coming undone for someone else. For that reason, the plan was kicking in doors until I found her.