by Lane Hart
“Good,” I reply in relief.
I had several close friends in high school, but they’ve all moved on, gone to college and gotten married themselves, so my mom is my best friend. She’s always been there for me so I can’t imagine doing this, getting married, without her help. “And will you come to the wedding too?” I ask.
“It’ll break my heart, but I’ll be there,” she says as the tears start to race down each of her cheeks.
“No, this is a good thing. He’s a nice man, and who knows? I may fall in love with him like you fell in love with daddy.”
“Right, yes,” she agrees with a nod as she grabs a napkin to dab over her eyes, but I can still hear the doubt in her voice.
“Daddy?” I ask when he continues pacing around the dining room, refusing to speak to me in English. I catch bits and pieces, pretty sure that he says something about hating that bastard Kozlov.
“Daddy, will you walk me down the aisle or not?” I say when he continues to ignore me.
“Yes, dammit, yes!” he shouts before he says something in Russian to my mother and then leaves the room. I hear the front door slam a few seconds later.
“What did he say?” I ask her.
“He said he’s sorry that you were born as stubborn as I am,” she tells me with a sad smile.
“It’s going to be okay, Mama,” I assure her. “Trust me.”
“I hope you’re right, Kira,” she replies. “Because marriage is not something to be taken lightly. Your grandparents, they will disown you if you divorce him.”
“Wait, what?” I ask her. “I haven’t seen them in years anyway. Why would they care if I get married or divorced?”
“They care. It’s why I stayed with your father even when he drove me crazy those first few years! Now I’m glad I stayed, I am. But it wasn’t always easy.”
“Try not to worry, Mama,” I tell her. “Let’s just hope for the best.”
“Standing up and making a promise to a man in front of God is not something you can take lightly or hope for the best! It’s a lifetime commitment, not some arrangement to be made for money that you can take back whenever you want! When you marry him, the two of you will become one spirit, one flesh, and that union doesn’t end even in death. The Orthodox tradition doesn’t condone divorce. Nor does it allow a widow to remarry. Loving anyone but your husband is forbidden!”
“I won’t take it back, okay? I’ll…I’ll stay with him forever,” I say, even though the words make me feel dizzy and feverish as that reality sinks in.
One man forever.
Never falling in love with anyone for the rest of my life, other than my husband.
What if I can’t love him?
Even though they’re my mother and grandparents’ beliefs and not mine, if I get a divorce, it will kill my mother and her family to think I’m damned for all eternity. And I will never tell them I’m not a virgin on my wedding night.
But the marriage is public, so there’s no hiding it. I’ll just have to make this work with Miles no matter what.
Even if he’s a hideous monster or an evil man.
“Forever, yes,” my mother says with a nod. “If you still want to do this, then I guess we’ll have to find you the perfect dress, one to make him fall in love with you at first sight and never long for another woman.”
Chapter Seven
Miles
“You busy this afternoon?” I ask Cooper when I burst into his office Friday at lunchtime.
“Ah, just working here like usual.”
“Can you spare half an hour or so out?”
“Maybe. Why?” he asks.
“Because I’m getting married,” I respond.
“No shit? Already?” he says with a grin. “You’re really going to go through with this?”
“Yeah. I even bought a house and all too.”
“Seriously? Damn, that was fast. Are you inviting the other Kings to the ceremony?” he asks.
“No. Just you. I want someone there, but I don’t need shit from all them about this,” I explain. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
“Nope. Not a soul,” he says. “And Liz won’t either. Attorney-client privilege and all that.”
“So, you and Liz are hooking up, huh?” I ask him. “You have a building full of naked women and you’re fucking the lawyer?”
“How about you mind your own damn business and worry about the woman you’ve never met?” he huffs. “What if she robs you blind?”
“She can’t,” I tell him. “My fingerprint is the only one that opens the safe.”
“She could cut it off in your sleep,” he responds with a smile. “Or cut off your cock while you’re asleep, wait for you to bleed out, and then cut off your finger.”
My jaw drops as that visual sinks in. When I recover, I tell him, “Wow, thanks for putting that fucked-up worry in my head!”
“Look, man, you never know how crazy a woman is until you live with her.”
“How many women have you lived with?” I ask him.
“I pretty much live with ten in here, all day, every day,” he explains. “And these women who work for dollar bills? They are the most vicious. I have to keep an eye out for heroin and cocaine. Don’t even get me started on how many have been arrested for beating up other women out in public or their boyfriends…”
“They really do that?” I ask.
“Hell yes,” he responds. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! You don’t know anything about this woman you’re paying a shit ton of money to marry. She could have a psycho boyfriend who could come after you. Did you think about that?”
“I can take care of myself,” I assure him. Pushing the sides of my cut back, I lift up my gray t-shirt, revealing the ever-growing flock of black birds, each one representing a life I personally took from this earth. “Thirty-nine confirmed fucking kills as a Marine and civilian.”
“Yeah, I know,” Coop says, looking a little pale at the running tally on the side of my body. “But those were all men. Women can fuck you over, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“My mom’s been married six times, taking everything from every man who divorces her, including his dignity and self-respect, so I’m well aware of how the other half works,” I tell him.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, man,” Cooper says. “I hope this marriage shit works out for you, really I do. The odds just aren’t in your favor.”
“Well, I’m still doing this today, so are you coming or not?” I ask him, pissed that he’s ruining this for me before it even starts.
“I’ll be there,” he says. “Can’t wait to see the poor girl you suckered into marrying you,” he jokes with a grin.
“Yeah, me too,” I agree with a grin. “Oh, and do you know where I can find some rings fast?”
“Lord help you both,” he mutters with a shake of his head.
Kira
The nerves don’t really hit me until we pull up at the tiny chapel, me in my Honda packed with my clothes and other belongings and my parents in their old beat-up Buick with disappointment written all over their faces.
I try to put on a smile when I get out of my car even when the voice in my head keeps repeating over and over again, “You’re getting married today,” as I reach for the dress bag in the back seat.
I’m getting ready to marry a man I’ve never seen before.
And at first, I thought that was sort of sad for him. Now the worst possible scenarios are going through my mind.
He could’ve lied about his age and he’s actually eighty-five.
Or what if he weighs like five-hundred pounds and rarely leaves the house so that’s why he wants a wife, to take care of him?
Or what if he’s just ugly and weird looking?
Those things are starting to matter more now that the day is here. Tonight, I have to go to bed with whoever is waiting at the end of the aisle no matter how disgusting they are!
What was I thinking, agreeing
to something so insane?
Maybe my parents are right, and I can still back out.
My parents.
That’s why I’m doing this. That’s the reason I will not back out or ask for a divorce no matter how much I may want one. We need the money to keep my father alive, and it’s the only way.
It’s just one time.
One. Time.
I can do anything once.
After I sleep with him tonight, I won’t have to touch the man who bought me to be his wife again, and my parents will both be alive and happy.
And so what if I have to live with him for at least a year and can never get divorced? A year is a short amount of time in the big scheme of things. Being miserable for three-hundred and sixty-five days is worth the price of my mother and father’s happiness.
Isn’t it?
Yes. Of course it is. Any daughter would make this same sacrifice. So I need to suck it up, blink away tears, and put on my big girl panties along with my wedding dress.
“Come on. I need to get changed,” I tell my mom as I grab her arm and pull her up the steps of the chapel.
“What am I supposed to do?” my father asks.
“Just…wait here,” I tell him. “Once I’m dressed, I’ll come back out and wait here with you until they’re ready to start.”
“You sure this is the right place?” my mother asks when I push open the door into the dusty chapel that sits on the dunes, the beach within sight along with its familiar salty scent, reminding me of home.
“Ah, yeah, it’s the right place,” I reply. “Hello? Is anyone here?” I call out.
About that time, a guy comes out of the men’s restroom off to the right of the vestibule. He’s handsome, with ear-length dirty-blond hair. He doesn’t look dressed for a wedding, although he is wearing a black leather vest with a white dress shirt underneath and black slacks.
Could he be Miles?
“Oh shit,” he says, eyes widening when he looks me up and down and then glances at my mother before his eyes come back to me. “You’re her? You’re the girl marrying Miles?”
So, he’s not my husband. I’m a little disappointed since he’s not old or ugly.
“That’s me,” I say. “I’m Kira,” I tell him, transferring the dress back to my left arm to offer him my right hand.
He shakes it, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to figure out what to say, my cheeks reddening the entire time he stares at me. “Cooper. I’m Cooper. Miles is my, um, friend, my brother,” he finally manages.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him. “I guess I should get changed?” I ask, nodding to the women’s restroom over on the right.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll let Miles know you’re here.”
“Great, thanks,” I tell him, barely refraining from asking what my soon-to-be husband looks like.
Just as I turn and start to push open the door with my mother behind me, Cooper asks, “Could you please try not to chop off any of Miles’ body parts while he’s sleeping? Or awake?”
My mother gasps at the random question.
Glancing over my shoulder at him, I say, “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good,” he says with an exhale of relief. And I think it’s kind of adorable how protective he is of his brother. But then he goes on to add, “Cause you seem like a nice girl and I would hate for anything bad to happen to you.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks,” I say as my face falls in understanding.
He’s worried about me getting hurt, not Miles, which is concerning considering I’m about to become his wife.
Chapter Eight
Miles
“She’s here,” Coop says when I walk out of the bathroom. “You just missed her. She’s changing.”
“Really? What’s she like?” I ask.
“Young and sort of shy and…beautiful,” he says with a sigh. “Are you sure you want to do this to her? Kira seems like a nice girl.”
Gritting my teeth and getting in his face, I tell him, “I’m not making her do anything!”
“Right, she agreed to this for a big stack of cash, I get that,” Coop huffs. “But don’t you think you’re rushing into something that could end badly? Why couldn’t the two of you try dating or whatever for a little while?”
“Because I don’t fucking date!” I shout at him. “Now shut the hell up or leave because I’m tired of you running your mouth. I never should’ve come to you about any of this. So much for being brothers.”
As I’m walking away toward the front of the church to find the minister, Cooper grabs my elbow to stop me.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t understand your thought process here. You’ve always been a little…impulsive. But if you’re sure this is what you want to do, then I’ll stay. Someone should be here for you.” He lets go of my elbow to shove a palm against my chest. “You’re getting fucking married, man.”
“Yeah, I am. And there’s nothing you or anyone else can say to change my –”
Our conversation is interrupted when the chapel door opens, bathing us in sunlight. A tall, lean man with salt and pepper hair and a mustache comes wandering in wearing a navy-blue suit.
“Are you Kira’s father?” Cooper asks him.
“Yes, I am,” he replies with a hint of an accent I can’t place.
“Don’t worry,” Coop says. “If Miles hurts her, I’ll kill him for you.”
“I’m not gonna hurt her!” I exclaim.
The concern on her father’s scrunched face says he’s not convinced.
“If I could talk my daughter out of this, I would,” the man says. “My wife’s father didn’t have any luck convincing her to change her mind about me, a man she had just met in the supermarket when I told her I was leaving soon for the United States. Now we’ve been married for thirty wonderful years.”
“Is that right?” Cooper asks in surprise.
“I’m not just worried about him hurting her,” the man says, eyeing me. “I’m also sad because of the reason she’s doing it.”
“Why is that?” I ask, but I don’t hear his response, or if he even gives one when the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen suddenly appears behind him. She looks like a princess with her caramel hair pulled up except for a few loose pieces that trail down her slender neck. The tight ivory dress shows off her perfect hourglass figure and is embroidered with flowers that sweep to the floor. My favorite part may be the thin straps hanging off her shoulders, looking like they’re begging to be yanked down to release her beautiful round tits that I’ve already seen and fallen in love with.
Fuck, Kira’s even sexier in person, and I can’t wait to get that white pristine gown dirty tonight.
Dammit.
I didn’t ask her if she was a virgin. God, I really hope not. If so, she’ll go running as soon as I touch her. I don’t do gentle.
Even if she’s not a virgin, I can tell by the look in her wide blue eyes that she’s already scared of me.
But I don’t mind that at all. The fear will make fucking her even better when she finally submits. And she will, no matter how long it takes.
She’s all mine now.
Tonight, I’ll fuck her so good that she’ll be begging me for more, and I’ll gladly give it to her whenever she wants.
Hopefully.
“Are we ready to start?” the minister asks when he appears at the altar.
“Hell yes,” I answer gruffly before Coop clasps a hand on my shoulder to drag me backward to the front of the church.
Kira
I glance around the chapel and even behind me looking for the unfortunate man I’m supposed to marry. There’s no one else here except for my parents, Cooper, an older man in a black suit holding a Bible, who I assume is the minister, and a tall, tough looking guy with a muscular body. A sleeve of angry yet bad boy sexy tattoos cover his entire left arm and massive biceps. Even his throat and the sides of his shaved head have inked designs. Like his brother, he’s also wearing a black leather bi
ker vest with white patches, a plain gray tee underneath and well-worn denim jeans. And his dark, intimidating gaze is fixated on me. I don’t think he’s looked away or blinked since I walked out.
Wow, he’s…intense.
That can’t be Miles, can it?
It must be, even if it doesn’t make sense.
He’s hot in a dangerous, almost villainous way thanks to the black facial hair that lines his jaw.
And he’s nothing like I expected.
Surely, he can find women without having to pay one to marry him.
Although, there is a certain look in his dark eyes that makes me think he enjoys hurting people.
Please don’t let him hurt me, I pray to a god I’m not even sure I believe in.
“Are we waiting on anyone else?” the minister asks from where he’s waiting at the altar.
“No,” the man who has to be Miles answers, eyes still locked on mine, holding me hostage.
“Right. Well, if there’s no music, then we’ll get right to it,” he replies.
My father’s face appears in front of me, blocking the strange and somewhat frightening man I’m about to marry from my line of sight and breaking the hypnosis he put me under. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he asks.
“Y-yes,” I stammer.
His response is in Russian, but still he turns around and loops his arm through mine to walk me down the aisle while my mother fusses with the train of my dress. As if it matters if it’s crooked to the three other people in the room with us.
We come to a stop where the minister is waiting with Miles standing on his right and Cooper on the other side.
“Who gives this woman to this man?” the minister asks.
“Her father,” my dad answers and then he takes my hand and offers it to Miles, who looks down at it for several seconds as if unsure what to do before finally taking it. His palm on mine is warm and calloused like he’s worked hard in life. And also strong, like he has no plan to let me go anytime soon. I can’t decide if that’s comforting or worrisome.
