“Yes,” I told her honestly, knowing it would hurt her, but unable to lie. Not to Nova. “Every day, as soon as I opened my eyes after leaving you behind in my dreams yet again, that was the first thought that would go through my head. To just end it. To die and then fight my way to wherever you were in the hereafter. But then I would think of how disappointed you would be in me, and then I would picture how upset Mom would be, and I would just suffer through another day. Because I couldn’t do that to either of you.”
Her sobs were like a gut punch, worse than any hit I’d taken in the weeks I’d fought in the underground cage fights. They knocked the air from my lungs, made my legs unsteady as I stood over her and watched the tears spill down her beautiful face. “I-I was so angry with you, Ryan. With everyone. I didn’t think about what you were going through. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”
I dropped to my knees in front of her and cupped her damp face. “There is nothing to forgive. All that matters is that we’re together again. I just need you to understand that every minute I don’t have my eyes on you is a minute I can’t take a deep enough breath. I know I’m already possessive and a little controlling. This need to protect you at all costs has only intensified now that I have you back. I know how independent you are. It’s one of the million things I love so much about you.” I kissed each tear away. “But when I lost you, I lost control. I need it back, baby. Please, just bear with me for a little while until this eases.”
She released a shuddery breath. “O-okay.” She gave in without further argument on the subject, and I actually began to relax.
“But what about this whole getting married today nonsense?” She leaned back enough to frown at me. Even on my knees, she was so small that we were at eye level, and I felt as if I were looking straight into her soul. Fuck, she had me so tangled up that all I wanted to do was sit and look at her for hours. “You can’t be serious—”
My kiss stopped the flow of words, unable to hear her say she wouldn’t marry me again. When I lifted my head, I pressed my thumb to her swollen lips, keeping her from speaking. “I am very serious. You are going to be my wife before the end of the night. Don’t argue with me, Nova.”
She argued with me anyway. “It’s not what you want. I know it isn’t. You’ve told me before that you wanted a real wedding. That’s why you wouldn’t even listen when I suggested eloping.”
“I said I wanted the people we love the most with us. With your dad walking you down the aisle and our moms sobbing as we said our vows,” I reminded her. “The location and size of the ceremony had nothing to do with it. My thoughts were of the memories we would make with our families.”
“Well, what about a dress?” she said, her bottom lip pouting out. “You said you wanted me to have a wedding dress, and I don’t have one yet. I don’t even have an engagement ring. Plus, you said you would ask me, and you haven’t asked once. Just started demanding.”
“Nova,” I growled, trying—and mostly failing—to ignore that damn quivering, protruding lip. “Wear whatever dress you like. Wear jeans and a T-shirt. I don’t care. But we are getting married this evening.”
52
Nova
The sun was just starting to set on the horizon when I stepped up beside Dad. He gave me a beaming smile, and I couldn’t help noticing the differences in him in the short time he’d been in Colombia with us. The day before, when I first saw him, he’d looked as if he’d aged twenty years since my graduation.
Losing me and then Mom disappearing had been bad for him. It was my fault, and I couldn’t help feeling guilty for putting him through so much emotional pain unnecessarily. My anger had been misdirected at those I loved, when it should have been focused on Sheena, Manuel, and Bain. Two of the three were dead now, but Bain was still out there. He had Ciana, and I wasn’t going to let him continue to hold her prisoner.
Which was exactly what she was. There was no way she would willingly stay with that monster. Even if he was the father of her children, if she knew the real man, she would be trying to find a way out.
And I was going to help her.
Somehow.
Putting that thought to the back of my mind for the moment, I returned Dad’s smile and placed my arm through his. He looked handsome in his starched white dress shirt with his leather MC cut over it. Black dress pants and his biker boots completed the outfit. He’d styled his hair a little, and he’d even shaved off the scruff that had peppered his jaw the day before.
“You look beautiful, princess,” he said in a choked voice, his green eyes taking in the way my long blond hair was pulled over my left shoulder. The white dress I was wearing was too long, but it fit me well enough, considering it was a loner.
Cali had gone up into the attic and found a trunk full of her mother’s old stuff. Inside had been the wedding dress she’d married Matias Ramirez in, as well as the one she’d worn to marry Cali’s father. Cali had brought them both to me and told me to pick which one I liked the most.
They were both beautiful, but I’d noticed how her gaze had lingered longingly on the one her mom had married her stepfather in. I picked the dress from her mother’s first marriage, knowing my friend would want to wear the other herself one day. Hopefully, if my brother played his cards right, she would get to wear it sooner rather than later.
My dress had a bohemian feel to it, with cap sleeves and had pearls sewn into the lace. Mom and Anya had helped with my hair, curling and then braiding it with a lace and pearl headband that had also been in the trunk with the wedding dresses. A little makeup and I was ready to marry Ryan.
It felt surreal, that after everything I’d been through, I was still getting to marry him on my eighteenth birthday. I’d been hesitant earlier in the day because I thought it wasn’t what he really wanted. Ryan had been imagining this day since he was eight, and I wanted it to be perfect for him. More than anything, I didn’t want him to have any regrets.
“Are you two ready?” Garret asked as he and Cali came into the house where we were waiting for the ceremony to start.
My brother looked so much like a younger version of our father with how he was dressed—minus the cut. In the weeks since he’d come to Colombia with me, he’d been working his ass off. Not only had he stepped in to run the Ramirez business, but he’d also been showing Cali that he was all in with her and Justice. Unlike with work, where he was already making strides, his progress was slower with the woman he loved. But Cali was finally starting to believe that he meant what he said.
Cali had dressed up a little too, acting as my maid of honor. She’d pulled her hair up into some kind of classic knot and was wearing a peach-colored sundress. It was sleeveless and ended right above her knees, showing off her long legs. She looked so much healthier than she had right after giving birth. The stress of worrying over Justice and recovering from major surgery had taken its toll on her, but now that Justice was doing so well, she actually seemed to glow.
“I don’t think it would matter if you were ready or not,” my friend said with a light laugh as she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the garden. “You have maybe two minutes before Ryan comes for you if you don’t get out there soon.”