If I could, I’d already be out that door but since Slade and Shaylee’s little intervention, the security at this place has tripled and they’re all on edge. I’m sure the security has been told that it was an attempted kidnapping…if only they knew. I’m sure the majority of the guards would turn a blind eye and let me slip out if they knew what fresh hell I was about to endure, but then, they’re on either Marcus’ or Lucien’s payroll and money talks. It always talks.
I feel a familiar gaze piercing into the side of my face and I turn to find Luce, desperate for my attention. I hold up a finger and check the room. Lucien is laughing with a bunch of other rich dickheads who probably have girls in their basements, Maria is drunk and boasting about her wedding with her country club bitches, while Marcus is seen through the back windows, sucking on the end of a cigar.
Perfect.
I glance back at Luce and nod.
She instantly gets up and starts making her way over here but just as she’s about to reach the bridal table, a guard steps in front of her and blocks her way.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Luce demands, scowling up at the guy who looks like he must have spent a lifetime playing college football and then followed that up with a buffet of steroids every day for breakfast.
“The bride is not currently seeing guests.”
My brows shoot up and so do I. “Who the hell do you think you are speaking for me?” I growl at his back, making the guard spin around. “It’s my fucking wedding and I’ll see who I want when I want.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Mahony, but your husband has requested that you have a few moments to yourself to catch up with the events of the day. Weddings can be overwhelming.”
“Overwhelming would be my fist in your face,” I tell him, realizing that this guard is one of Marcus’ and not Lucien’s, meaning that by default, he’s now mine too. “Just remember whose payroll you’re now on.”
His back seems to straighten and I watch as he tries to hold his ground, confused by what actions he should take. I square my jaw in a challenge, letting him know that I’m the real MVP here. “Let her pass or find out first-hand what it would be like to have me as your enemy, and believe me, it’s not something you want. Just think about it. If I can get a guy like Marcus Mahony to marry me, imagine what else I could do.”
The guard swallows, standing there as he considers his options, and then finally he bows out. “My apologies, Mrs. Mahony,” he says, nodding his head and waving Luce past him before folding back into the side of the room to where he should be seen and not heard.
Luce strides past him with her head held high as though she’s some kind of tough bitch who can’t be fucked with. “Woah,” she says, stepping around the bridal table and dropping down into Marcus’ vacated seat. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend? What was that? Where did you learn to be such a bitch, Mrs. Mahony?”
“Call me that one more time and I swear you’ll be drinking soup out of a straw for the rest of your life.”
She laughs. “I can’t work out if slumming it in Aston Creek with guys like Slade turned you into this hard version of yourself, or if it was all the other shit.”
“All the other shit,” I tell her. “And believe me, there’s certainly no slumming in Aston Creek. That’s my home and I love it.”
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “I can see why. Do all the guys look like him or are you just special?”
I grin wide, thinking of Damian. “Both. I’m special as all hell and they all look like him, but mine is the best by far, like so far. He’s…he’s amazing.”
Luce’s eyes go wide. “Oh, no. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I am.”
“You realize he looks like a criminal, right? I mean, he showed up on my doorstep and I nearly died. I-”
“Wait,” I cut her off. “What do you mean he showed up on your doorstep?”
Luce cringes. “Sorry, I just sort of jumped ahead, didn’t I?” I nod and she thankfully continues. “After he was shot, he came to my place. I think he must have called Blake and asked him where he could go. He was trying to avoid hospitals so he could go back and get you sooner and assuming I’m probably one of the only people who would have helped him, Blake gave him my address. He showed up with blood everywhere and just barged into my home, not giving a shit about getting all his blood on it. I swear, it’s been nearly two weeks and I keep finding drops everywhere. I had to rearrange the cushions on the sofa to hide a blood-stain until a replacement could come. Mom nearly killed me.”
I can’t help the grin on my face, able to picture the moment with 100% clarity. Slade would have busted down the doors, demanded she stitched him back up and then left with his head held high while leaving a big mess behind.
God, I love him so damn much.
“How was he when he first showed up?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not going to lie,” she warns. “It wasn’t good. He’d lost a lot of blood. I’m no medical expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure he was close to passing out, but that could have been from either the pain or blood loss. He looked really dizzy and just getting him to sit his stubborn ass down so I could take care of him was a whole new challenge. I had to sit on his back and fish the bullet out of him. It was disgusting.”
My heart breaks. I hate hearing about his pain, but it’s a hell of a better option than hearing about his death. If he felt pain, that means he’s still alive, so I’ll welcome it with open arms.
“In other news,” she says with a soft laugh. “He’s fucking hilarious when he’s drunk on vodka.”
“What?” I laugh as confusion begins to baffle me. “You got him drunk? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drunk.”
“Hey, I didn’t get him drunk,” she defends, throwing her hands up in innocence. “I had the vodka there to clean out the gunshot wound and the stupid fucker kept drinking it to numb the pain. I don’t think it worked though. Pulling that bullet out of his back wasn’t pretty.”
I lean in and pull her into a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whisper, thinking of her softer side; the one that doesn’t handle gruesome very well. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t,” she agrees. “It’s not every day some gangster looking dude shows up on your doorstep with a bullet hole in his back.”
“You realize he’s not a criminal, right?”
“Whatever you say,” she says with a grin, pulling back and looking at me. Her expression softens and it’s quickly replaced with a heaviness that I’m not prepared for. “We tried,” she whispers. “Every day we’ve been trying to get in there to get you out, but we got nowhere. I’ve been trying to smuggle you a phone as well, but it’s impossible. It’s like Fort Knox. Slade and Damian have practically been living in my pool house just so they can be close if you need them. I’ve even met Shaylee and Nessa a few times too. I swear, between the two boys, they’ve been shot at three times. They’re fucking lucky that they’re not dead. That’s why there’s been so much security during this whole joke of a wedding. They were expecting them.”