by Brook Wilder
She had spent another sleepless night in Bianca’s guest bedroom, unable to stop her overworked mind from replaying the conversation with Christian over and over again. Everything that he’d said had hit her hard, and she wanted so badly to believe him. But she’d been burned so many times. She knew she shouldn’t trust anyone, she shouldn’t trust him.
But she did. She didn’t understand it, but there it was. Not much she could do about it. It still worried her, though.
Melody gnawed at her bottom lip as the women continued their discussion without her. They had already decided on the venue: a gazebo in the park in Hightower and then a reception at the V.F.W. across the street.
They had picked out the color scheme. Red, of course, was Stella’s suggestion, and Roberta had wanted to add purple, but thank god Bianca had put a stop to that, convincing Stella that burgundy was in fact a shade of red and that burgundy and silver would be lovely together.
They had picked out the music and décor, the lights and the food, which was being catered by some diner in Hightower that was supposedly a favorite in the area.
Now they were busy picking out the perfect wedding dress. Her wedding dress. Melody knew that she should care more. That she should probably speak up and say that she actually didn’t want tulle or bows or beading. No sequins or sparkles. That really wasn’t her style.
But none of this was her style. Hell, getting married wasn’t her style. Not in a million years had she imagined she would be getting ready for her wedding in an old farmhouse with three women she barely knew.
Melody almost laughed out loud, though she wasn’t feeling particularly humorous. Hell, she had never even imagined herself getting married. Not for a long, long while anyway. None of this had gone at all like she’d imagined.
Idly, she flipped the page of the magazine and was caught by the image in front of her. It was the only thing she’d seen all day that had pulled her out of her morose feelings. It was a black and white photo from the seventies and showed a bride with a bouffant hairdo in the passenger seat of a convertible. She was looking over her shoulder, waving at her family, as her groom drove her off into the sunset. There was real happiness on the bride’s face. A type of joy that Melody couldn’t even begin to understand.
“What’s that, hun? Did you find something?”
Bianca’s voice at her side made Melody jump and she rushed to turn the page, but it was too late.
“Oh, my! Look at that hairdo,” Bianca said, chuckling, dropping one callused finger to the page as she traced the grainy black and white image. “I used to wear mine just like that.”
“You did?” Melody shot a sideways glance at the woman, unable to picture it.
“Sure, of course I did. That was the style back then. And, besides, that was when I still gave a damn about what people thought of me.”
“Hah! I’d like to see that,” Stella snorted from her spot on the couch in the living room. She was looking at another magazine full of dresses. “We better decide soon. All the stores will be closing soon and the wedding’s tomorrow, for Christ’s sake! We won’t have time to get a dress and Melody will have to walk down the aisle naked!”
“Why does Hub want this in all such a rush anyway?” Roberta chimed in. She was sitting in the armchair across the room. Her grey permed curls bounced furiously as she shook her head in disapproval. “It’s just not the way it’s done.”
“It’s the way Hub wants it done,” Bianca said, and gave the other two women stern looks before giving in with a sigh. “You’re right though, Stel. We don’t have much time.”
“Hmph. Don’t have any time at all if you ask me,” Stella added, shaking her head as well. “We’ll have to drive all way to the other side of Hightower to get something. It’s the nearest department store.”
Bianca’s brows furrowed and her eyes looked distant for a moment, before she cocked her head, looking Melody up and down.
“You like vintage, hun?”
Melody glanced down at the picture, running her hand over the photograph.
“It’s kind of lovely, isn’t it?” Melody asked, and Bianca nodded after a moment.
“You just stay right there. You might not have to walk down the aisle in your birthday suit just yet.”
“I hope not,” Melody said on a choked laugh as the older woman turned and rushed up the stairs.
Melody put up with Roberta and Stella’s chatter with as good a nature as she could muster, all the while praying for Bianca to hurry back. She wasn’t sure how many more questions she could take before exploding.
“…what do you think dear, do you have a garter?”
“A… garter?”
“For the toss.” Stella looked at her as if she’d just said the sky was green. “The garter toss? The groom takes the garter off the bride and tosses it to the single guys to see who’ll marry next. Then you toss the bouquet to the single ladies, yada yada, same thing.”
“Uh, no. I don’t think we’ll be doing that. It’s pretty rushed as it is…”
“Nonsense! It’s tradition! You have to have some tradition in your wedding or else it’s not a real wedding.”
“Um…” Melody bit her tongue before she could say the words that were brewing up inside her.
Luckily, she was saved from having to say anything at all as Bianca trudged back down the stairs carrying a long plastic bag.
“Ta da!” Bianca said, grinning like a mad woman.
Melody just gave her a sideways look.
“What… is it?”
“What is it?” Bianca scoffed, “Why, it’s your dress, hun. That is, if it fits. Even if it’s close enough, I can do some quick adjustments tonight and have it ready by tomorrow.”
“A dress?”
Intrigued despite herself, Melody got to her feet and walked over to see what Bianca had pulled out of her closet, expecting something tight and leather knowing the older woman’s style of dress.
But when Bianca slowly unzipped the garment bag, revealing the dress inside, Melody nearly gasped out loud. It was nearly a replica of the seventies wedding dress in the photograph.
“Well, go on. Try it on and let’s see if it fits.” Bianca elbowed her in the side as she stuffed the dress in her arms. “I was a lot skinnier when I was your age.”
“I… I didn’t know you were married,” Melody said, still looking down at the dress in her arms so she didn’t see the agony that passed through Bianca’s eyes. It was gone by the time she looked up again.
“It was my first marriage. I was young. And it was a long time ago.” Bianca hurried her towards the bathroom. “Now, go put that dress on!”
“Alright,” Melody laughed, letting the older woman shove her forward.
“And don’t forget to come out and show us!”
Melody just rolled her eyes, still grinning, as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
It took a little bit of maneuvering to get the floor length gown pulled over her head by herself. But, once it was on, she still wasn’t able to do up the row of tiny buttons on the back.
“Uh, I think I’m going to need some help with this thing,” Melody shouted, twisting her arms behind her back but to no avail.
She held the front part up with one hand as she walked back outside, and Stella hurried over to give her a hand.
After she was done, the woman in red stepped back and Melody waited expectantly, looking at the others. But they just stared at her in silence.
“Well? What do you think?” Melody finally demanded.
She hadn’t been able to see much in the tiny bathroom mirror, but what she could see of the bottom fitted fairly well. It was long, a little too long for her five and half foot frame, and the dreamy cream-colored silk fit her curves before draping to the floor in a graceful fall.
“It’s… It’s…”
“It’s perfect,” Bianca finished.
When Melody looked over at her, the older woman had tears glimmering in her n
ormally stern eyes. Suddenly, all three women were moving, fluttering around her like birds.
“We’ll have to take the hem up a little. Heels! Does anyone have heels?”
“I do. I can bring them tomorrow. You’re a size seven, right hun?”
“Seven and a half,” Melody answered faintly, trying to watch them all at once.
“I have a pair. They’re silver. They’ll be perfect.”
“We’ll still have to hem up a couple inches, but I can take care of that. Otherwise,” Bianca finally took a step back, smiling blearily at her, “it really is perfect. You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”
Melody tried to force a smile to her lips, but she suddenly felt frozen all the way through. It finally hit her, wearing the dress, clad in white. She was getting married tomorrow. To a stranger!
She took comfort in one thought. At least she wouldn’t be naked.
Chapter 12
“Here now, just take a bite. That’s it. Just a little more. Good girl.”
Christian sat back, watching the tiny kitten finish the rest of the can of wet food. He’d found the litter after a racoon had killed the mother and nursed them back to life. The other three were turning into rambunctious, playful little fur balls, but Luna was the runt of the litter.
He’d named her Luna because her fur was pure white, no markings at all, unlike her siblings who were all grey and black tabbies. Luna still wasn’t gaining weight like the others and she slept most of the day away instead of playing with her brothers.
Christian hoped she would make it through the next week. But he was worried that, if things didn’t turn around, she wouldn’t.
He sat back on his heels and let out a slow sigh, like a tire with a leak, deflating bit by bit. Christian lost track of time for moment as he knelt there, staring at the week-old kitten but not really seeing her.
In his mind, all he could see was Melody. It had been hell leaving her alone at Bianca’s the night before. At least he knew that Hub and the rest of the crew were being kept well away from the safehouse and Melody, until the wedding tomorrow.
Shit! Tomorrow! The thought had him collapsing to the ground and he landed with a thud on his back, staring up at the ceiling now as his mind whirled in chaos. He was getting married tomorrow, to Melody Sloane. He was getting married to a gorgeous girl that he barely knew, but there was one important fact that he kept locked on to. She was his ticket out of there. And he was hers.
Together, they could fight to get out of this life that had sucked them both down to the bottom of the barrel and make something new for themselves.
Christian tried to pull himself back from that most dangerous edge. Hope. It was too late. He could already feel it boiling up inside him like a volcano threatening to erupt. He’d spent nearly his entire adult life trying to keep it at bay.
He knew how much worse it could be, to have hope that things would change but they never did. He knew Hub would always be the cantankerous old son of a bitch he’d always been. For a while, it had just been tempered by his mother, but now there was nothing holding him at bay.
And he expected Christian to follow in his footsteps. Hub didn’t understand him. The old man never would.
Christian let out a sigh as a pounding at his front door broke him out of his reverie and he rolled over onto his side before pushing himself up to his feet. Who the hell was that banging on his door and almost nine at night?
Reluctantly, Christian wen to the front door and slammed it open.
“Jesus, will you stop knocking already? I’m here,” Christian shouted, then shook his head as he was met with Craig’s infectious grin. “Oh no. What are you doing here? It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Bad?” his friend scoffed. “What the fuck are you talking about bad! Congratu-fucking-lations, man!”
Suddenly, Christian was enveloped in a rib crushing hug and, before he could stop him, Craig was already slamming his way inside. All Christian could do was shake his head as his friend, a local mechanic that often worked on the crew’s machines, dropped himself on to the creaky couch in the living room.
“Dude!” Craig drew out the word, staring at him with big wounded eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“Tell you what exactly?”
“Tell me what? About your upcoming nuptials, Chris!” Craig just made his eyes even bigger, dramatically laying his hand over his heart. “You didn’t even tell your best man that you were getting married!”
“My… best man?” Christian choked out trying to hold back a laugh.
Craig was outrageous. He always had been. But he was open and friendly and didn’t question Christian’s affinity for helping hurt animals, a nice change from the way his father treated him.
“Of course, I’m your best man,” Craig said, his expression suddenly going solemn and Christian’s gut tensed with a bad feeling. “And, as your best man, I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
“And those duties would be?”
Craig grinned and the bad feeling grew bigger.
“Your bachelor party, of course,” Craig jumped to his feet. “You didn’t think I’d let you get hitched without throwing you a bachelor party!”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“See, that’s your problem right there, Christian. You think too damned much. Just relax and have some fun. I’ve got it all planned out. Don’t you trust me?”
Christian stared at Craig in growing horror, shaking his head.
“No. No I don’t trust you.”
But no matter how much Christian protested, twenty minutes later found him at a seedy bar and strip club on the other side of town. Craig and a few other guys all sitting at a table and catcalling up to the scantily clad woman dancing provocatively on stage.
Christian didn’t hoot or holler. He just took another long drink of the beer he’d been nursing, trying to drown out the noise. Places like this had always made him edgy and uncomfortable. His father would have considered it another mark against him. Just one more piece of evidence to prove that he wasn’t normal.
He shoved the thought away angrily, tossing back the rest of his beer before signaling to Craig that he was going to get another. Craig just grinned and waved him away, leaving Christian shaking his head ruefully once more before heading to the bar that dominated the far side of the club.
He pushed his way between two men in trucker hats and ordered another, and while he waited his gaze scanned the crowd.
This wasn’t his first choice for a bachelor party, but Craig had it all planned out and hadn’t given him a say in where they were going. A part of him was touched at his friend’s gesture, but the other part of him was just frustrated. He should be back home, taking care of things, getting ready for tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
The thought hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the air from his lungs. Tomorrow, he would be married. Tomorrow, he would have a wife. Tomorrow, Melody Sloane would become Melody Mires. Mr. and Mrs. Mires. He rolled the name around in his head, tasting it, feeling it. It was so strange, but it had something inside him warming, a fire burning from deep inside his chest.
He was so distracted by the train of his thoughts that he didn’t see it at first.
At first it just looked like a group of assholes, laughing and drinking. And then he saw the woman trapped between their bodies, trying to get out, a terrified look on her face. The waitress, as scantily dressed as some of the dancers up on stage, was just trying to do her job, but the men wouldn’t let her go. The stood in a ring around her.
Christian saw one of the men shove her into the lap of another man, obviously asking for more than she was willing to give, and he was stalking across the club before he even realized he’d moved away from the bar, his beer left behind unheeded.
“Hey!” Christian shouted to be heard over the music and the noise of the rowdy crowd. “Get the fuck away from her.”
“Who the fuck are you?
Leave us alone,” one of the guys shot back, turning to look at him and his eyes widened. “You! You’re one of those bastards! You’re a Devil’s Martyr.”
“I…”
But Christian didn’t get a chance to finish answering. Suddenly Craig and the other guys were at his side, and Craig swayed forward on unsteady legs, obviously tipsy as he pointed a finger at the others.
“You don’t know who the fuck you’re dealing with, asshole,” Craig slurred. “This isn’t just any member of the Devil’s. He’s getting fucking married in the morning. You don’t mess with the groom!”
