“Mommy, what’s a stripper?”
“A woman who likes to dance and she makes money,” Sarah explains with a questionable tone.
“I want to be a stripper!” Maizey cheers.
“Never sweetie, never. Daddy won’t allow that ever.”
I snicker as I head toward the fitting room. The floors are all shag carpet, but everything is clean. Nothing has been updated, which makes me like this store even more. I play with the material between my fingers, feeling the aged lace. I try to imagine the story this dress holds, but I know anything I think of won’t do it justice. “Hey, Ruby? How old is this dress?” I ask.
“From the ‘50s. It’s an original, a real classic.” Her voice comes closer, and she places a closed toe, three-inch heel on the ground. The shoes are a nude color with a thin ankle strap and, she’s right, the heel isn’t a stripper heel.
“Okay, try it on. Let’s see it,” Tongue says, tickling the chin of his swamp kitty.
I close the curtain and get undressed, starting with my shoes. My toes dig into the harsh material of the carpet, and as I slide off my pants, the mirror exposes the bruises on my thighs from Knives. My heart thumps when I think of him, and it has me getting undressed faster. I can’t wait to meet him down the aisle.
Stepping into the dress, I’m careful as I zip, since it’s so old. I bend down, slipping my feet into the heels. Before I show my friends, I take a look in the mirror on the wall and gasp. I hardly recognize myself. It fits me just right. The dress stops just below my knee, hugging my curves and showing the delicate ridge of my collarbone since the sleeves hug my arms. I twist my hair up like Tongue suggests, tying it like I usually do without a hair tie. My eyes water.
There is a glow to me I can’t explain as I look at myself. Maybe it’s the slight sweetheart neckline of the dress or how the events of tonight happened so fast that I can’t believe I’m here.
All I know is whatever led me here; I need to be the woman Knives deserves. I’ve been lost this past year, trying to find a way to live again. I’ve been doing odd jobs for Reaper, nothing special, which has to stop, and I need to try harder to find something I’m good at. For me. For Knives.
He’ll help me find my way.
He has so far, and I know with him, I can do anything.
I open the curtain and look down, stepping out for all to see. I’m nervous. What if they hate it?
Everyone gasps in awe.
“That’s it.”
“I love it.”
“So pretty!”
“Give us a twirl, Mary,” Bullseye says.
“Oh, I knew it would find the perfect home,” Ruby grins, dabbing the tears under her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a sucker for weddings. Don’t mind me.”
“Let’s have the night of our lives before we can’t,” I say. “I’m going to keep it on, if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely not,” Ruby says, her ring glittering in the light. “It’s all yours.”
I want this to be the best night, since my life is on a timer, but my father is going to be in for a rude awakening.
I’m going to fight for the rest of my life
They say like father like daughter, but I don’t think that’s true. I’m nothing like him, unless you consider how much I want Knives, then I guess our greed is the same. We only apply it differently.
“Can you believe you’re getting married?” Sarah asks with wobbly lips, her hormones getting the best of her. “You’ve been through so much.”
I didn’t before, but I do now.
Holy shit.
I’m nervous.
I’ve trimmed my beard, shaved the sides of my head, and I’m wearing a suit.
I never wear a fucking suit. The last time any of us dressed up was for Sarah’s prom. I look in the mirror, rub my beard with one hand, and make an impressed expression.
Damn, I clean up fucking good. I really do.
I dip my hand into the black silk lining of my inner pocket and pull out the plastic bag holding the rings. I know, it’s supposed to be in a pretty box, but I don’t have one.
“You okay? Are you getting cold feet?”
I don’t have to look to see who it is. I’d know that voice anywhere. “What the hell are you doing in my room, Mason?” I straighten my tie and grab my cologne. I don’t wear it often, just for special occasions, and I consider this the most important occasion of my fucking life.
“I’m checking in on you,” he says, leaning against my bedroom door.
“Well don’t. That isn’t your job anymore, remember?” I place the cologne on the dresser and pick up four stars and slide them into my pants pocket.
“It will always be my job. You don’t think I kept track of you? That… what? I forgot about you? You’re my brother.”
“I was your brother. Was.” I grip the edge of the dresser before pushing off and facing him. “You left me behind just like everyone else.”
“Thomas—”
“My name isn’t fucking Thomas, okay? You don’t get to call me by my name. There is one person in this world who can call me that, and I’m about to marry her. Stay out of my way tonight, Mason. Just stop,” I beg of him. “Just. Stop. Don’t ruin this day for me. Act like you don’t exist. You seem to be good at it.” I shove by him, slamming my shoulder into his as I walk out of the room, leaving my past and who I used to be behind me.
When I walk to the main room, I feel like there is a part of me missing, and it isn’t because Mary isn’t here. It’s the fact that Mason has popped back into my life out of nowhere, and no matter how much I fight him to stay away from me, deep down, I’m fucking glad he is here. I’m happy he is alive, but I can’t get over so many years of him being alive and me feeling like I’m drowning.
“Well, look at you. You aren’t so ugly after all,” Tank says, wearing a powder blue suit that is not easy on the eyes, but it matches him.
I don’t know how or why, but he pulls off the look.
“Whatever, I look better than you do. I look better than all of you,” I point out. Everyone is in their suit they wore to Sarah’s prom.
It’s probably the only one they own.
Except for Reaper.
He is wearing black on black, looking more like he is about to go fuck shit up than go to a wedding.
“Is everything set? Where are Moretti and Maximo?”
“Moretti is coming with. Me and Mercy are staying here to keep an eye on Maximo. I’m thinking he can give us more information than he has been saying,” Mason says from behind me. “Go get married. We will be here to hold down the fort.”
I nod, not having the energy or the heart to bite his head off again. Moretti comes from the basement, a crisp expensive suit on, something he used to wear all the time, and he is pulling at the collar. “I cannot believe I used to wear these all the time. Are you sure?” Moretti directs his question to Reaper.
“Just as sure as you saying you wanted Tool to suck your cock,” Reaper laughs, rocking on his toes as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Did I really?” Moretti swings his gaze to Tool, who looks very uncomfortable. “I can see why. You are a marvelous looking man. You still don’t suck cock?”