by Zoey Parker
“Ain’t she beautiful?” Leon whispered from behind him. Alex, Rudy, and Joe were lined up next to him as his best men. He was pretty sure they were there to make sure he did everything right and proper.
Maybe they’d stand outside the door and make sure everything got consummated, too. That would be fun.
Kellan nodded his head in dumb agreement. This was insanity, and he wasn’t running away. Instead, he was taking her silken hands in his callused ones and praying to God to bless this holy union. He didn’t snort, but he didn’t think there was anything holy about it.
“We are gathered here today to join these two souls together in holy matrimony…”
She was looking up at him like this was a real wedding. Her cheeks were all pink roses and her lips were parted just a little. She looked like a bride. Hell, she was a bride.
“Do you, Kellan Nicholas Mathers, take this woman, Emma Katharine Ketchum, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold…”
“I do.” Kellan wasn’t really listening. The words didn’t much matter, it was all the meaning they held. It didn’t matter if this wasn’t going to be for forever; it was going to be for now, and for long enough. How the hell was he supposed to keep this blue-eyed beauty safe from the clutches of some Cuban?
He didn’t know, but as she made her own promises to him, he realized he was going to do his damnedest to try. How had he gotten himself into this?
They were just supposed to go get some certificate at the justice of the peace, and next thing he knew he was standing in front of Father Bronson making promises of forever to the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on.
The words ‘until death do us part’ rang loudly in his ears.
When the priest asked for the ring he felt his blood go cold. “I, uh, I don’t have a ring.”
She shook her head, and put her hand on his. “It’s all right. I took care of it.”
He found his mouth going dry. What kind of woman, days after being attacked, could manage to put together an entire wedding and even manage rings? What had he been doing? Lounging around the shop and trying to figure out what he was going to do about all of this.
This was definitely a woman he didn’t deserve, and here she was looking at him with the kind of eyes a man could just get lost in. Deep crystalline summer eyes that threatened to swallow a man down and make him forget all the terrible things he had done. Or worse, make him want to be whatever it was those eyes thought they saw.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
When he hesitated, Emma leaned forward. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
He might have been able to give her a brotherly kiss on the cheek if she hadn’t been leaning forward to whisper. The moment she did he was swarmed by the scent of lemon and vanilla. He took a deep whiff of it. Before he knew what he was doing he took her face in his hands and pulled her in for a deep kiss.
She tasted even better than she smelled. The blood went from his head to his groin the moment she stepped to him. Her sleek body pressed against him, and beneath the modesty of a wedding gown he could feel the intoxicating softness of her curves. Fire started somewhere inside his chest and went everywhere else.
Slender hands clutched his shoulders and she tilted her head. Her tongue delved between his lips with a wildness he hadn’t entirely expected, and he damn near dragged her to the ground. She went up on her toes and made a low purring sound in her throat. He was so done for.
There were cheers, and that was all that saved him from doing something bad.
“See?” she whispered when they had stopped kissing each other breathless. “Being married to me won’t be so bad.”
“You are going to get me killed.”
She kissed him again and his already thick shaft started to ache. He didn’t even hear the priest announce them as Mr. and Mrs. Kellan Mathers. All he could think about was Emma. She was getting under his skin. It happened from time to time. A pretty girl got in his way and all he could do was think about her.
She slithered against him and he barely managed to keep himself from groaning in front of a priest. This was not a great way to start this marriage.
Chapter 6
Emma wasn’t entirely sure how she wound up sitting at a picnic table with a bunch of women she didn’t know while her new husband had been shuffled off to enjoy rounds of whiskey, but that was where she was. Her plate was filled with perogies and meatballs and really small sandwiches.
“Emma, I haven’t seen you since high school! How have you been? Tell me everything!”
The Hannah Emma had known was a quiet, sedate broomstick of a girl with an overbite. That girl had defined the word mousy. The woman who sat in front of her, with a trio of heart tattoos on either shoulder, was not mousy, nor shy. She had kissed Emma full on the mouth in greeting and had smiled so big that Emma couldn’t help but return it.
“Han? God, I didn’t recognize you.”
“Oh yeah, sweetie. The new and improved.” She put a hand on either hip. Emma refused to believe the woman had given birth to any children. “You look so beautiful!”
“Thanks for standing in as a bridesmaid.”
“Oh pshaw.” She waved one hand. “You’re basically my sister now. As close as you and Rudy were growing up and all. It was the least I could do. I hear you are an animal doctor now.”
“Almost, still got a little college left.”
“That’s so exciting! What’ll you do when you graduate?”
“Well, I’d have to work with another doctor for a few more years, but eventually I wanna open my own place.”
Hannah fanned herself. “Gosh, I love a lady who owns her own business. I opened up a shop right on Main Street not three years ago. I sell shoes and accessories and things. All those girly bobbles I was too afraid to wear when I was a little twig of a thing.”
“But you wear them well now.”
Hannah threw her head back and laughed. It was a wild and unrestrained sound that was infectious. Emma decided, then and there, that she liked this new and improved Hannah.
“Wow, I hope the joke is a good one,” said a new voice. Emma glanced up and wondered if a centerfold model had stepped out of a magazine.
Hannah, whose smile didn’t quite meet her eyes, motioned to her left with a set of excellently manicured nails. “This is Samantha.”
Samantha was taller by a good two inches, and the stilettos she was sporting put Emma at eye level with an impressive chest, tanned to California perfection. A corseted blouse in a deep burgundy helped it along. Though why a girl who was clearly a size zero needed to corset anything was way beyond Emma’s understanding.
“Hi, Samantha.”
Samantha’s big brown eyes rolled over Emma with aloof dissatisfaction. They stopped on her plate and Emma found herself noticing that Samantha’s had nothing but a few slices of cucumber and a single slice of turkey. Samantha’s mouth curled into a smile and she flipped her ruby red hair over one shoulder. “Wow, you have a great appetite.”
She sauntered off before Emma could respond.
“Wow,” Hannah said to the retreating back. “Samantha’s even bitchier than usual.”
“Guess she doesn’t like the food.”
“Please, that food isn’t gonna stay down.”
Emma laughed. “Oh wow. That’s mean.”
“Yeah, I’d feel bad if it weren’t true, and if she wasn’t a terrible excuse for a person. Typical biker bunny type. Now, I’m all for a girl exercising her right to say yes, but that girl abuses the right and the men she exercises with. She’s just plain mean.”
“So why is she still around?”
Emma watched as the woman in question sauntered over to a table of men. She laughed and leaned over the lap of one in order to say something that had them all laughing. Emma would have been bored by her antics, but the girl was leaning over Kellan’s lap.
“Sweetie, you are looking at why she is still around.”
�
��Yeah,” Emma said as the girl flipped her hair again and flashed Emma a catty smile. “I see.”
Hannah reached out a hand and put it on Emma’s shoulder. “Hey, sweetie, if it helps any, they’ve never been together, least as far as I know. I’m not saying Kellan hasn’t shown a few of the groupies a good time for a night or two, but I don’t think she’s ever been one. She’s the kind of girl who loses interest once that happens.”
“Looks like she’s interested to me.” Emma knew she sounded bitter. She couldn’t help it. The marital kiss had rocked her, and she had thought it had rocked him, too. But he hadn’t seemed to be able to get away from her quick enough, and now there was a pretty thing two inches from sitting in his lap and he wasn’t pushing her away.
“What are you going to do about that?”
“Hmm?” Emma asked, still watching the display. “What do you mean?”
“That’s your man, isn’t it?” Hannah tapped the table, the sound of painted acrylic sharp on plastic. “You gotta make that claim known.”
“I just married him. How much more known could it be?”
“Plenty. Lots of guys think it’s all right to get some on the side. You gonna be one of the old ladies who’s all right with her man sticking it somewhere else?”
“That’s crude.”
“You wanna come up with a prettier word for cheating, be my guest. But take my advice, hon, figure out how to mark your territory, or she’s gonna keep sniffing.”
Kellan looked up, and his eyes found Emma’s instantly. Her skin felt too tight, humming with a feeling she had no name for. Her lips felt full, and all she could do was think of their kiss. She hadn’t meant to kiss him back so hard, but apparently a decade of unrequited feeling could pack a more powerful punch than she was willing to admit.
On the one hand, she couldn’t blame Samantha for wanting to get Kellan naked. He was the kind of guy who turned heads and broke hearts just by existing.
“Well, I mean, I guess looking at him like you are going to eat him is one way to do it. She might not realize he’s off limits, but I’m pretty sure everyone else does.”
“Hannah, I like you.”
“Oh good, ’cause I’d hate to have to pretend we weren’t friends.”
Emma agreed. The two women chatted companionably while the sun began its trek down the afternoon sky. For the first time since her attack Emma felt relaxed and comfortable. It was strange how much a little friendship could do. The purple and orange of late evening were making their way across the horizon when they heard it.
The booming bass of rap music, and as it grew closer one could tell the lyrics were not in English. A week ago Emma would have just rolled her eyes at a person playing their music too loud, but a lot could change a person in a week.
The lightheartedness of the reception faded as everyone became aware of the music. Club members shifted their positions, hands to their guns carelessly hidden beneath shirts. Women shifted to the back of the party. Those with kids went inside. Someone left the door open a little too long and Rocco, who hadn’t wanted to be locked up in the first place, came charging out.
Emma found she was too afraid to move.
“Emma, come on.” Hannah wrapped her pretty nails around Emma’s arm and gave it a firm tug. “Let’s go inside.”
It was too late. The cars, and there were several of them, came to a halt. She could see the hoods of at least two of them, an Impala and a Lincoln if her fear-addled brain could be believed. Some artistic hand had scrawled the image of the Virgin Mary across the hood, her gleaming halo bleeding into the windshield.
From all those cars only two men stepped out. The first was dressed in a suit so dark red it looked like half-dried blood. She wondered if that was done on purpose. His tie was whip-slim and hung down a very long body. A scrap of a beard was on his chin. His smile was brilliant, more gold than white.
“Mac Ketchum!” he called, his voice barely tinged with Latin flavor. “I guess our invitation got lost.”
They came to the shortest part of the fence, but they didn’t cross it. Ten men clad in the vest of The Beasts stepped between the fence and Emma.
The second man she didn’t recognize until the scent of cheap cigarettes and cheaper liquor swarmed over her. She started to shake. His eyes, dark as a volcanic lake and twice as heated, fell on her. Even from the distance of a ten-man guard she felt sick to her stomach. There was something wrong with that gaze, something that lacked humanity.
The man, she could only guess it was Michael, ran his tongue across his teeth before blowing her a kiss. A sick shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t look away. She could see a bruise on his brown brow and knew she had put it there. She didn’t have to look away. He blew her a kiss and she felt her lips curl into a grimace.
“You weren’t invited.”
Emma didn’t know how he did it, but her father’s voice lacked all the weariness she had come to expect to hear. When she chanced a look over her shoulder she saw him standing there. He had taken off the breathing tube that wrapped around his face and was standing up. He had drawn himself to his full height. Some trick of his presence made him look bigger and stronger than she knew he was. She wondered what it was costing him to have this show of power.
“Now, man, don’t be like that,” Gabriel—who else could it be?—said. “I thought we were family now, what with how you are selling my shit.”
Emma looked at her father. He wasn’t flinching, but there was a tightness around his eyes. A heaviness settled on the exchange. Hands went to guns. Car doors opened and she could see the long barrels of semi-automatic weapons.
“You lost your shit, fair and square.”
Gabriel let out a series of Spanish curses and then spat. “Man, you know nothing was fair about it. But, hey, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” Kellan demanded. Emma hadn’t seen him move; she hadn’t even realized he was behind her until he spoke. He took another step and put himself neatly in front of her.
“Just wanted to pass along our blessing to your lily-white bride, ese. My brother here, he gotta thing for smart-ass blondes and just wanted to give her a gift.”
There was something about the way he said it that had Emma’s skin crawling. Rocco must have heard it to, as the dog circled around and plunked himself in front of her. He gave a warning growl.
“Well, it’s only fair,” Emma called out. “He’s still wearing mine.”
There was a chorus of laughter from the gathered throng. Michael surged forward, spewing foreign obscenities. It was amazing how much bitch sounded like bitch no matter what language a jerk said it in. Gabriel slapped a hand in the center of his brother’s chest, and Michael stumbled back a few inches. Enough to get the message.
Kellan was smiling. “I don’t think my lady needs any gifts from you. Why don’t y’all pack it up and go home?”
“All right, all right. We get the message.” He held up his hands in apparent surrender. “Just stopping by to say hi and offer my congratulations on your fortuitous union.”
“Ain’t that word a little big for your mouth?” Mac called.
Gabriel said nothing. He bowed and led his brother away.
Emma waited until she heard engines turning over and wheels screeching. “What was that about?”
Kellan exchanged a look with Mac. “It was a show. That’s all. He knows where we are, where we live.”
Mac whistled. “Prospects.”
Joe and another man with a young face stepped forward. She thought she had heard someone call him Phantom; he was smaller than she, and so pale she wondered if it was a condition. She wasn’t sure she had ever heard him speak.
“Follow them, and be quiet about it. No bikes. He knows where my home is, we are going to know where his is.”
“Yes, sir.” Joe paused in front of Emma. “We’ll keep you safe, princess.”
Phantom said nothing, just nodded in her direction.
“Emma, wh
y don’t you and Han go inside?” Kellan asked. “We are going to talk some shit out.”
For a moment Emma thought about arguing. It was clear they were going to be talking about her and deciding things on her behalf. But the fact was she didn’t feel like deciding anything right this moment. What she wanted was to go back a month when her life was as simple as writing papers and taking notes.
“Yeah, all right.”
She stopped by her dad and he gave her a hug. “We are going to keep you safe, Emma. I swear it.”
She nodded. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, Emma believed he’d try, she just didn’t know how much good it was going to do.
