I won’t ever get those months back that we spent apart.
I only got to rejoice in his touch a few times. It wasn’t enough. I have many regrets, but all of those pale in comparison to the only two I care about:
Not being with Quin, and Quin not being Kimmy’s biological father.
That’s it.
“Don’t look so sad, Alicia. It’s your big day.” He slams me against the wall and tugs my lips into a smiling position. “I get to fuck with you for the rest of your life and I promise, every single day, I’ll find a way to get my revenge.”
Not if I kill him first.
If I didn’t have Kimmy, I’d risk my life to get out of here. I refuse to miss out on any time with Kimmy because I didn’t think things through. I could try to run now, but there’s no guarantee I’d get out of here alive.
I have to bide my time. I have to plan this very, very carefully.
I don’t care if I have to get married.
I don’t care if I have to poison every single person in this gang over a long time.
I don’t care if I have to pretend to be happy if it means getting out of here alive and getting back to where I belong: with Quin and Kimmy.
But I will get there. Nothing will stop me.
I’ll burn the world if I have to.
The door opens and a black sedan is waiting at the bottom of the steps.
“Will you stop? This dress is long and the heels are hard to walk in.”
When we get to the bottom of the steps, he opens the doors and shoves me inside. “Like I care. I don’t know what the hell Malcolm sees in you, but you better be glad it’s him and not someone else. He’s the only one out of all of us that will treat you halfway decent.”
Yeah, somehow I doubt that. The door slams shut and Vince runs around the other side of the car and jumps in the driver’s seat. The car starts and we pull away from the abandoned-looking building toward what will apparently become my fate. I lean my head against the window, watching as we get further away from the city. The skyscrapers become smaller the further we ride.
My heart is in my throat and tears burn my eyes as I mourn my old life. Dreams of Quin and me run through my mind: our wedding, Kimmy as the flower girl, the happiness I’ll feel when he says I do. And then there is the pregnancy that would happen one day. He’d cry when he found out because he’d be so happy.
The dream wedding dress? A strapless ball gown style. I want to feel like a princess because that’s how Quin makes me feel.
The venue?
The beach, of course. Maybe right outside the clubhouse so everyone can be there.
I wipe my tear away, not caring if my makeup smears. The car rolls to a stop on the side of the road next to the bridge. But we don’t cross the bridge. The car door opens and Vince’s hand is a death grip on my forearm, yanking me along an old, broken concrete staircase right at the edge of the river. I have no idea where we are.
Just to our left, opening like the mouth of a cave, is an abandoned subway station. It seems like it was once hidden by a wall of concrete. Everything is… old and ruined. There’s an old blue subway sign hanging from a pole, rusted and rotted with time. It’s as if the bridge was built above this place and they never even bothered to destroy it.
The brick walls are crumbling and the tile is cracked and overgrown with weeds. Rats and bugs scatter away from us as we descend. The stench of the city still lingers in the air instead of relaxing salt. Blaring horns sound replacing the waves I imagined in my mind.
We finally make our way inside the old station and find a long red carpet decorated with flowers draped over the tile floor.
And at the end of the carpet is Malcolm, and while he looks handsome in a suit, it’s just the devil playing dress-up.
I know the life that lies ahead of me.
His members are standing on either side of him, along with a priest. On the train tracks is a broken-down subway train that must have been abandoned here decades ago, the doors pried open.
Looks like that’s where the party will be.
I pause as I walk alone down the carpet.
I don’t want this. If I run, maybe I’ll have a chance of escaping from thirty different men.
And climbing back up those stairs and somehow getting back to the city without getting shot or hit by a car.
I gulp. I have to take my chances.
Malcolm is waiting, his dark hair combed back. He’s trying to project admiration and love in his cold blue eyes, but all I feel from them is evil and death. The muscle in his jaw tics and I know I’m pushing my limits by not walking.
I take the first step, then the other, and another. My heart breaks with every inch I erase between us.
There’s a man behind the priest, holding a gun to his head and the older gentleman gives me a pleading look.
And all I can think is: Him? What about me? I’m the one marrying a monster.
“Get on with it, Father Jeffries.” The man cocks the gun and Father jumps, opening the bible to a certain page.
A bible.
How laughable.
The last thing these men are is religious.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate holy matrimony between… Malcolm… um,” Father swipes the sweat off his brow. “And Alicia.” His hands begin to tremble.
“Is there a problem, Father? Must I remind you of the donation we made to the church last week?”
Father shakes his head and sweat droplets fall onto the bible, wrinkling the pages. “No, sorry. I’m just very hot. It’s hot down here.” He tugs at his collar. “Are we exchanging vows?”
“No, get on with it. I don’t have all day.”
I glance to the left and notice a small space between the wall and the train. If I sprint, I could make it. I could squeeze myself into the small space and it would maybe buy me enough time to try and find another way out of here.
But he grips my hands and raises a brow as if he knows what I’m thinking. He gives a slight shake of his head, warning me not to attempt to escape.
“Does anyone here object?” Father announces so loud, it drifts down the subway.
Something slings through the air and one of Malcolm’s men falls to his knees, a knife sticking through his head.
“I fucking object!” booms a loud voice in the cavernous hall.
Hope blooms in my chest.
“Quin!” I shout.
Malcolm gives a quick look to his men, who shout and run down at Quin and another man—Wolf, I think—descending the steps. But they’re too fast. Three more knives get thrown out, and three more men fall. More men come, but they stop in their tracks when a redheaded man joins Quin and Wolf, followed by a dozen men of his own all carrying guns.
Malcolm’s men cry in outrage, but he holds up a hand to silence them, realizing they’re outnumbered.
“And who the hell do you think you are?”
“Alicia’s mine,” Quin growls.
“I don’t think so. We’re married.” Malcolm grips me by the back of the head and smashes his lips to mine. I try to push him away, but I can’t.
Until a loud gunshot zings and warm blood sprays across my face. I take a step back, shocked when I see Malcolm wide-eyed.
He slowly falls to the ground.
Dead.
Father Jeffries dashes to the side and runs for his life, but the man who held the gun to his head spins around and fires, killing the man of God right there, just as he is about to have his freedom.