by Lexy Timms
Saks watched in horror as the younger man dove for his gun and shot off a blast at Pearson. Jessica, halfway toward the car, threw herself in utter fear and slammed down hard without the use of her arms to catch herself. All hell was breaking loose, and Saks needed to regain control.
“Don’t fucking move,” Saks spat as he wrenched Kosikov’s arm behind his back and jammed the gun into his ear. “And you!” he shouted after the kid, “drop that fucking gun and kick it away.”
Like a deer in headlights, the young man stared until he darted off after Pearson like a skittish cat. For a moment Saks thought of trying to hit him in the leg to keep him from running, but he was probably hired help anyway. The young kid had probably just gotten himself in deep without realizing what he was doing.
Everything slammed back into focus when Chrissy’s voice rang in the air. “Jess! Jess! Oh, my God, are you okay?”
Jessica groaned and rolled over. “Damn heels,” she muttered, drawing the softest of sighs from Chrissy.
“Are you okay? Can you stand?”
“I think I may have sprained my ankle, but I’m not sure. I’d been tied to a stupid chair for so long my legs were asleep. I could barely feel my feet when we were forced out here.”
“I was so worried you got shot.”
Jessica groaned as she moved to sit. “Makes me sound like a badass.”
Chrissy grabbed hold of her friend, and with every bit of strength she had pulled her back to her feet. She’d barely been up for half a second, when Chrissy yanked her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”
“What a beautiful sight,” Kosikov murmured sarcastically, “but what are you going to do now? Kill me?”
“You deserve it, you bastard,” Jessica spat as Chrissy worked on untying her restraints. “Selling me to some creep just to make some cash? You deserve to burn in hell.”
Saks leaned in and let his harsh whisper do the talking. “You don’t deserve to die.”
The wail of police sirens filled the air, and in Saks’ grasp the man struggled. He wasn’t about to let go, though, not with all of the damage he’d caused. He also couldn’t allow himself to think too much on the fact that it could’ve been Chrissy stepping out of that building. Had it been, the man may not have survived to make it to prison.
“Let go of me!” the man screamed as he flailed against the strength of Saks’ hold.
“Fuck you. You’re going to jail. For a very long time.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Momma’s here!” Gloria bounded excitedly across the room in her excitement, nearly undoing the intricate up-do that had taken hours to get into place. The girls and the rest of the bridesmaids had spent the entire morning at the beauty shop getting their hair, makeup, and nails done, and not a second had gone by where either Chrissy or her sister hadn’t been graced with the brightest of smiles. Further into the back of the church they waited together, anxious to see the dresses their mother had created for the big day.
Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at her sister’s excitement. “You’re bad; all you want to do is see the dress.”
“Can you blame me? Momma wouldn’t show us the final version. Yes, I want to see it. And dresses, plural. The bridesmaids' dresses, too.”
“Ugh,” Chrissy muttered. “Like anyone can ever wear them again.” She’d been a bridesmaid one too many times, and never had the dress been something she could ever let see the light of day again.
“It doesn’t matter,” Gloria said with a wag of her finger. “Momma made them, and therefore you will love each one. It’s a daughter’s duty.”
Her sister spoke the last words so dramatically Chrissy imagined Gloria throwing her arm over her forehead, pretending to swoon. She probably would have, had she not been so busy running a hole in the carpet from her incessant pacing.
Chrissy’s phone pinged with a text message.
Saks: Can’t wait to see you.
Chrissy: We were only apart for one night.
Saks: You don’t know how close you came to that bachelorette party being crashed. There were a bunch of drunk Spawn who wanted to strip for the women.
Chrissy: Eewww. I’ll never be able to unsee that visual again.
Saks: Hey – I was one of them. Are you saying you wouldn’t want to watch me strip for you?
“Who’s that?” Gloria asked.
“Saks.”
Gloria rolled her eyes. “He can’t leave you alone for two seconds, can he?”
“Nope. And I don’t want him to.”
“All I can say is that, after that mess in England, you’re lucky he’s here.”
“Give it a rest, Gloria.”
“I still can’t believe he let you get in that car to go to that warehouse.”
“He didn’t have a choice. I had the phone the police were tracking, and I wasn’t going to give it to him.”
“Still, you’re awful lucky they didn’t press charges. He did threaten people with a gun.”
“You know why. Grandpa agreed to testify against Kosikov and Pearson.”
“It’s still crazy weird what Pearson did with that dress and all. I mean seriously, what woman would think a dress is really to mark them as someone to kidnap? Sure, we worry about spiked drinks, but dresses?”
“Yeah, I know.” Chrissy sighed at the thought that a man she’d worked so close alongside could’ve sold her out like that. “But, I mean, there’s always the chance he didn’t know why they wanted me. Interpol said he owed that syndicate a ton of cash, and now whoever is left has to be pissed since they got Jessica and not me. No wonder he ran.”
“But they haven’t caught him yet. Right?”
“They will. Now, go, do something useful. Like, fix your hair we just spent two hundred dollars doing up.”
The phone pinged again, reminding Chrissy of Saks’ text which she hadn’t answered.
Chrissy: Not at all, babe. But I prefer private shows.
Saks: Noted. Then shall I pencil you in for tonight?
Chrissy was about to send Saks another teasing message, when a knock on the door sent Gloria into a tizzy.
“She’s here, she’s here,” Gloria said, bouncing on her toes. Honestly, Chrissy reflected, her sister acted like a three-year-old getting ice cream instead of a woman soon to be married.
Gloria opened the door while Chrissy sent a hurried message to Saks to let him know she needed to go.
Rose Serafini swept in, and her husband followed with two long dress bags slung over his shoulder. Rose wore a fifties-style dress with a wide skirt and a pinched waist, made up in a dark beige lace that complemented her olive skin. Vince Serafini wore a black tux.
“You both look great!” Chrissy exclaimed. It was amazing to see her parents looking healthy and happy again.
“Where do these go?” Vince asked, looking entirely out of his element.
“Here,” Chrissy said. She took the bags and hung them on pegs by the door.
“Let’s see,” Gloria exclaimed as she rushed over and tried to identify which bag was which.
“Honestly, Gloria Rose Serafini, you are worse than a kid,” Rose scolded.
“I’ll leave you ladies to what you have to do,” Vince said.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Gloria responded, giving him a big hug.
“Just one daughter?” Vince asked, arching an eyebrow and holding out an open arm.
“Love you, Dad,” Chrissy murmured as she snuggled under his open arm. “And, thank you.”
“Best dad ever. Two big weddings in a year,” Gloria said.
“I should have made it a double wedding to save costs,” Vince Serafini groused. “But I couldn’t do that to my princesses.”
“You save a dance for me,” Chrissy said. Her throat thickened, and her eyes misted because at that moment she couldn’t be happier.
“Shoo, Vince Serafini,” Rose instructed, “before you make my daughters cry and ruin their makeup.”
�
�Later, my lovelies,” he said with a big grin. “I’ll be waiting for the bride outside the church door.” He gave them a wink and then left, shutting the door behind him.
The three women stared at each other. Then Gloria ripped the zipper on the fullest garment bag, and a dream of white satin, lace, and sparkly beads fell out.
“Oh, Mama!” she said. “It’s gorgeous.”
Chrissy stared at the dress, jaw agape as her skin prickled with goose bumps. “It’s perfect,” she breathed.
“Lucky you,” Gloria grumbled, sticking her lips out in a pout. “You won the coin toss.”
“Gloria, your dress will be just as pretty, perhaps more. Besides, the oldest should marry first.”
“That’s Grandpa talking,” Gloria groused.
Rose gently pulled the dress off the hanger. “I’ve been working on this a long time.”
Chrissy’s brow arched. “How long?”
“Oh, just a year,” her mother said. “I started after you got that job in New York.”
“But—”
“Yes. You weren’t engaged yet. But a mother knows these things. You were off to the big city, and you were going to find yourself. And then you would know that you wanted a husband.”
“I think,” Chrissy said, “that Dad watching work on this dress gave him ideas that he passed along to Grandpa.”
“Who knows? Besides, it was Anthony’s uncle who approached us. You know that. Now. Let’s get you in this before that handsome man of yours decides he doesn’t want a woman who keeps him waiting.”
No matter how long she took, though, Chrissy knew he would wait for her, and he did. When it was finally time to walk down the aisle with her hand in the crook of her father’s arm, she thought she’d burst from smiling so much. Never could she have imagined the flood of happiness and love she felt when she saw Saks standing at the altar, waiting for her in a perfect tux.
He beamed at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and even from afar, on their happiest day, she saw the slightest glint of mischief in his eyes. He was her Saks, and though she didn’t want to waste a moment of their day, she couldn’t help but dream of what would come later that night.
She would’ve married the man who waited for her in a paper bag had she needed to, but instead she was given everything a woman could have ever wanted in the world. She had the perfect dress, a family that loved her, and a man who let her be who she truly was.
As she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, she felt not a Mafia princess but the princess of her biker’s heart.
THE END
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