by Ella James
And it couldn’t be more fitting.
Except, it kind of sucks for him, because before he can have sex with me, I roll over on my side and say, “Marchant—I’m pregnant.”
I watch his face carefully, screening for shock. But instead, he just nods slowly. “I thought you might be.”
“What? It’s because my stomach, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head, grinning like an idiot. “It’s because you stopped taking baths.”
“How did you know?”
He shrugs. “One of the girls here said something like that before. I don’t think it’s true, but...”
“No chances,” I say.
“I understand.”
“How do you feel about it?” I ask, holding my breath.
He pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. He sits his chin on the top of my head and talks softly, more to the room than me. “Nervous,” he says. “I don’t want it to be like me. I’m not good enough for it. Or you.” I can feel him swallow. “But I want to do the best I can. Not for the baby—that, too—but for you, Suri.” He pulls away from me a little, so he can look down at me and see into my eyes.
“I’ve fallen in love with you.” He squeezes one of my shoulders, and with his other hand, cups my cheek. “I want to ask you—will you stay here with me? Will you go somewhere else with me? We can build a home. I need to live near here at least half time, but the rest of the time, we can live anywhere else. I’ll never stop taking my Lithium again. I want to be a father to the baby, and a husband to you.” He laughs a little. “I can’t believe I want it, but you make me different. Better.”
I nod slowly. “I don’t want to go. I want to try this with you. See how much we both like it.”
“A lot.” He kisses my cheek. “I want us both to like it a lot.”
I wrap my arms around him. “I think we already do.”
He laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. His lips brush my ear gently. “Baby mama…”
*
MARCHANT
Suri is asleep. I couldn’t relax enough to join her—yet.
So here I am, sitting on the porch with a cigar, thinking about how unbelievably lucky I am. We talked for a long time about our plans, and we decided we’re going to build a house near here, and raise our child there. Yeah—I said it. ‘Raise our child’. And it’s weird, how excited I am about having a baby. I’ve been a playboy for a long time. I want something more. I want to care about someone else more than myself. I want to see Suri be a mother.
I’m nervous about asking her parents for their blessing before I give her a ring, but she says they’ll love who she loves.
I’m wondering how true that really is, how her father will feel when he hears about my business, when I hear the gentle patter of sneakers on the ground.
I sit up a little straighter, ready to take anyone who might hurt Suri. I’m surprised when I see West.
I stand up, laughing softly.
“It’s the night before your wedding. What’re you doing, man? You nervous?”
He shakes his head and slows in front of me, jogging in place. “I want to see her. Tonight. But you’re not supposed to do that.”
I smirk a little, because West is wearing black gym shorts and a sweat-sticky white undershirt, and his blond hair is sticking up everywhere. I arch a brow. “You think she wouldn’t want to see you?”
“I don’t know,” he says. He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I’m still surprised she wants to marry my ass. Don’t want to fuck it up the night before.”
I swat at his shoulder. “Go see her, man. Give her a good fuck to get her ready for tomorrow.”
He punches me in the arm. “You’re talking about my wife, Radcliffe.”
“Almost.” I smile.
He looks at me suspiciously, as if my lighthearted mood is throwing him off. “Where’s Suri?”
“Asleep, inside.” I grin. I want so much to tell him that she’s carrying my child, that soon she’ll be living with me permanently, but this is his time. I don’t want to distract from him and Liz.
“Go see your wife, West.” I smack him on the back.
As I go back inside myself, clutching an unsmoked cigar but desperate to see Suri, I hear footsteps. I turn around, and no one’s there. Must be West, jogging off.
*
ELIZABETH
Hunter isn’t here tonight. He’s staying in one of the other cottages. I’m grumpy on the night before my own wedding, because I miss him. And I’m grumpy just because. Hormones and stuff.
When I think about tomorrow, I feel nervous and slightly unhappy. I think I would feel better if Hunter were here.
Today, all my closest friends and family flew into Vegas. Most of them aren’t staying here. I’m not seeing most of them until tomorrow, because that’s how I asked for things to be. This wedding is about Hunter and me, and anyone else who got an invite should feel lucky. My dad is in Vegas, and he came without his new family. That makes me pretty happy. Mom will be here in the morning, and so far, she hasn’t said one negative thing about me getting married here. Suri’s family is coming, and she said they’re excited for me. They don’t care that the wedding is here.
Another thing I love: Loveless and the other girls will all be here tomorrow. They’ve stayed away so we could prepare, but I can’t wait to see them.
I look at my ring. It’s so sparkly and pretty. I try to focus on that and how much I love Hunter.
His dad and sister surprised him and said they’re coming. I hope the day is great for him, too.
I get up and decide to do some yoga. I just can’t relax without him in the bed beside me.
I’m stretching when I hear a knock.
No one is there. I go back inside. Another knock. It’s a girl with very dark hair. She’s wearing ragged-looking, faded jeans and a red wife beater, and her long, black hair hangs down her shoulders, over her small bust.
I don’t want to be judgmental, but she doesn’t look like she belongs here. At all. She looks…dirty. And her eyes are a little wild.
“May I help you?” I ask. My heart pounds just a little. I tell myself it’s in reaction to my wedding anxiety.
“Do you need anything?” she asks, with a Spanish accent. Her face is smug. It doesn’t go with her words. “Do you need new linen? Housekeeing?”
She’s staring at me oddly.
“Linen? Right now?”
She nods once, her eyes still clinging to mine.
“No. I’m good.” I shut the door quickly and lean against it, feeling like I dodged a bullet, even though I’m bigger than her.
A few minutes later, there’s another knock. I go look through a window, but it’s not the girl.
I grab my cell phone and text Hunter.
‘That you, Mr. West?’
I get a text back: ‘Want me to go?’
A delicious curl of anticipation twists through my belly. ‘No way.’
I rush to the door like a kid at Christmas and find myself staring at Hunter’s beautiful, broad back.
“Hi.” I grin, taking in his sexy, sweaty t-shirt and the workout pants that always emphasize his bulge. “You’ve got on running clothes? Should I be worried, Groomie?”
I’m joking, but his tone is low and almost pained. “I just miss you, Lib. I just wanted to tell you.” I see his hand come up and ruffle his sweaty hair, something he does more when he’s nervous.
I step onto the porch and throw both arms around him. “Oh my God, I miss you more. Come to bed with me, fiancé. I can’t sleep without you.”
He turns to face me, a relieved smile already spreading across his lips. “You sure?”
“Hell yes, I’m sure. The baby and I need you. We both miss you taking all our sheets and sprawling out across the whole entire bed.”
“The baby tell you this?”
“Um hmmm.” I rub his stiff erection through his shorts, and he leans down to kiss my neck.
I tug him through the door, and he raises his head, already panting a little. “Sex is off-limits for the virginal bride, isn’t it?” he says, teasingly.
I shake my head. “I’m not virginal. In fact, I sold myself to a terrible man. Keeps me on my back all the time, always getting sexed up. Getting prodded with his big, hard dick.”
I can see the lust storm I ignite in Hunter’s eyes, and I’m so glad I gave dirty talk a try. I love the way it gets to him.
As if to demonstrate, he lays me out on the floor, jerks my cotton shorts down, and climbs on top of me.
“You sure?” he asks one more time.
“Abso-freakin’-lutely. Show me what I’m getting when I marry you tomorrow.”
He shoves inside me. I groan.
“Happy wedding night, Libby. I love you.”
Chapter Five
SISTER
At weddings, the sister is sometimes the maid of honor.
At that wedding, I was the maid of honor. I wore a yellow dress and I was treated with respect.
Because I was important to him.
No one could be as important as me.
Now he’s gone. His blood was spilled, at this very place. He was shot like he was a dog.
No respect.
No reverence.
But I will claim avenge Jesus. I am Sister, now in charge. If I want respect, I have to do this. I can’t have help. It has to be by myself.
I walk around, and I knock on a few doors, trying to decide who needs to meet my knife. Who needs to kiss my gun.
I knock on one door, and I see the bride. If I kill the bride, it will be…not enough, but something.
I’m going to get her.
Then I hear a voice I know.
*
MERRI
We’re sitting by the pond, and Cross is holding me. I’m holding him. It’s in the security of this embrace that I feel comfortable enough to finally let the words out.
“Cross—I have to tell you something.”
“What?” he murmurs.
“I- I think I need to take a break. To get some space. It’s not you, I’m just so confused right now. And no, I’m not confused about you. But I hate myself and what I’ve been through. You deserve better. Someone whose life isn’t so…scarred.”
“Merri.” He places my hands on the scar on his shoulder.
Tears fill my eyes. “I know. You’ve been through hell, and that’s another thing. I’ve still got a hit on my head, probably.”
“I don’t care about that, Merri.” He looks—and sounds—desperate.
I kiss his cheek. “Cross. I love you. I’m so thankful for you. I still want you. I just need to…be alone and think for a while.”
He’s shaking his head, already getting up to pace. “We can talk to Dr. Libby more. Anything you need. Do you want to move out and not live with me?”
I get up, too. I fold my arms over my chest and say what I know will be hard for him to hear. “I’m going back to Georgia. I just need to come full circle. Think about things. Give my final interview to the FBI alone—just me. I’ve gotta find some way to…I don’t know. Make sense of what happened. Every time you hold me, every time you’re here for me and take the pain away…I feel more in love with you. But more lost, too. Like I’ve never really found myself.”
He says nothing, but folds his arms around himself.
Oh, Cross.
“I’m so sorry.”
His face is tight. His voice is taut. “Don’t be sorry Merri. Do what you need to do. I’ll wait.”
And maybe he will wait. But there’s pain blazing in his eyes, and I hate that.
I turn around and run into the maze, and I hear Cross behind me.
I whirl around, hungry to touch him, despite the fact that I’m leaving after the wedding. But before I can get a glimpse of him, someone slaps my face.
*
CROSS
It’s wrong. It’s very wrong—okay? But I have a tracker on her phone. It’s not some FBI shit. Just an app I downloaded. She could track me, too, if she wanted.
But she doesn’t.
The pain in my chest is so intense, I have to take deep breaths to keep from making noise.
I see the light in Lizzy and Hunter’s place. I see cars coming to the main house, friends and family getting in late.
I track her as she leaves the ranch. She must have been planning this, because she leaves via the back entrance. The staff entrance. I go inside the house and pour myself a drink. I down it, and think, stupidly, I’m the only one alone now. Me and Liz and Suri—I’m the only one who’s going to be alone.
If she wanted me more, she would stay. Merri would stay if she wanted me enough. I sit on the couch with my head in my hands as pain rolls over me. I can’t stand the feeling of her walking away, and I can’t go after her.
Chapter Six
MERRI
“He loved you. You betrayed him. You embarrassed us. He died for you, and now I’ll kill you! This is for Jesus!”
I open my mouth, and she spits in my face.
“Sister! I am sister now! You call me Sister! Jesus is gone, and I’m in charge!”
Jesus’ crazy sister points a gun at me and waves it.
“You do what I tell you. Come on! Faster!”
I march toward the parking lot, clutching my stomach and praying someone sees us.
*
ELIZABETH
“I wonder where Merri is,” I say to Suri.
The two of us are in my cottage, wearing two of Hunter’s button-up dress shirts and working on our hair and make-up while Marchant, pimp and unofficial wedding coordinator, goes to get the Love Inc. girls and bring them to us for some pre-wedding squee time.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the front door of the cottage, and Suri races into the den to let him in. I hear them talking softly while I work on my lips. I’m a little surprised to find, when she returns, she’s brought him with her.
Marchant nods at me, looking ready for the party in a tailor-made tux. “Looking good, Liz.”
“You, too.” I smile at him, then shift my attention back to the mirror. I really want to get my makeup done before the other girls get here. “How is Hunter?” I ask.
“He’s good I think.”
Marchant walks up behind me and puts an arm around Suri. “Liz, last night we had something weird happen on the cameras. Merri told Cross she was leaving—needed time to think about what she wants—and then she got into a Jeep with a dark-haired girl. I’m sorry to bring this up on your wedding day—”
“God no.” I’m just now finding my voice. “Where’s Cross?”
“He’s at his place. He’s doing okay.”
“There’s no way he is. God, how terrible for him.” I stand up, planning to go check on him, and Marchant presses gently on my shoulder.
“This is your wedding day,” Suri agrees. “Sit down, Liz. That’s the one constant here: we all want you to focus on your big day.”
“I just needed to ask if you saw anything out of—”
“Yes.” I clamp my hand over my mouth. My eyes, in the mirror, are wide. “Marchant, do you have housekeeping staff that goes around at night?”
*
MARCHANT
“Calm down, dude. Just repeat yourself,” I tell Cross.
He’s in his kitchen, pacing, and he’s a mess.
“She didn’t take any of her stuff with her, and her cell phone is here, at a gas station.” He points to the screen of his own phone. “Why would she leave with someone no one knows? Who’s the girl on the cameras? Just walking around the grounds? That’s fucking sketchy. Something happened.”
“Maybe not. It could have just been a friend.”
Cross shakes his head. “I don’t think she planned to tell me. It was just the right moment.” He slides his phone into his pocket. “I don’t think any of it was planned. I’m going to check on her. I know you’re busy; nobody’s got to come with me.”
I hold
a hand up. “Do you know who it could have been? Waiting around to help Merri?”
“Why would she need help?” Cross growls. “I wasn’t treating her bad.” His face bleaches. “You said the girl on the camera had dark hair. Fuck. Fuck. Was it long?”
I nod.
“The one who broke into your house. Long hair?”
My stomach tightens. “Yes. Why?”
“I wonder if it could have been Jesus’s sister,” Cross says slowly.
*
MERRI
I’m shivering, naked in the back of this little abandoned house beside a gas station. Sister, as she’s started calling herself, has already told me her master plan—take me to Mexico and cut me into pieces. We’re waiting for her crew to get here.
My hands are tied behind my back. When Sister gets mad, or bored, she slaps me. Hard.
When she’s not slapping me, she’s talking about Jesus.
“He was the only one who loved me. He took care of me. Now he’s gone,” she’ll say, repeating the same things over and over.
“Were you the one who hurt Suri?” I ask her. It’s just a guess, but I can tell as I say it that it’s true. Her eyes widen a little, and she nods.
“I was there for Marchant Radcliffe, then and now. But you were easier to take. And I can always have that brothel burned all the way to the ground next time.”
My stomach clenches as I wonder when her crew will get here. Where they’ll take me. But I don’t start to cry until I think of Cross.
My sweet Cross.
I miss him so much.
Sister slaps me again.
“Shut up, bitch. You deserve no tears.”
I swallow, and my throat aches. Cross. Come get me, Cross! I need you. Cross!
But why would he? This time, I’m on my own. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of paying me back for being a coward. For being afraid to let things with Cross run their natural course.
