“I’ll take this…bed. God, I can’t wait to see the bathroom.”
Riley dropped into the vinyl chair in the corner next to what I surmised to be a television. His long legs stretched out and his head lulled to the side against the back of the chair.
“I’ll sleep here.” His eyes slowly closed.
“I’m going to check on the car. You sleep. I promise we’re out of here before the sun comes up and we see this room in daylight.
“Whatever.” Riley’s words already slurred. His arm fell limp to the side of the chair and I slipped quietly out of the room to make the dreaded call.
I used the disposable cell phone I bought at one of the gas stations we stopped at early this morning. The last thing I needed was Dad tracing the call until I was certain he’d be on board.
“Sheriff Martin.” The voice sounded clipped, edgy. His stone heart failed to beat by the sound of his frigid tone.
“Dad. It’s Jax.”
I should have had a note pad to write down all the new combinations of swear words he used, some I’d never heard of and thought quite creative. In the background, Mom shrieked, then started using her own “gosh darn” church approved cuss words. When my dad realized I didn’t respond, he stopped to acknowledge the silence.
“Son? You still there?”
“Are you through? I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Cut the cocky attitude. Where the hell are you? Please tell me Riley’s with you.”
“Yes, he is, and don’t insult your profession by pretending you don’t know where we are.”
“Your mother found the bus ticket when she got home from work. Why now?”
“Didn’t you see Riley’s note?”
“What note?”
“The one next to Lucky’s treat jar. Lydia Daniels stopped by yesterday morning. Taylor’s getting married tomorrow afternoon. Riley’s hell-bent on stopping the wedding and I came along to make sure he didn’t do something stupid.”
“You? Sorry, that’s not exactly comforting. The treat jar? Wait.”
Dad grunted. His pastries surrounded his “waisty.”
“Here’s the note. It must have slid to the floor when Dirk put the mail on the counter.” He mumbled the words Riley wrote. “So what diabolical plan has Riley cooked up? How many felonies will be committed?”
“Aside from murdering Michael, there really isn’t a plan. That’s why I called. Dad, you’ve got to do something.”
“Jax, it isn’t that simple.”
“Don’t give me your bullshit about following procedures! I didn’t get a ‘join the army and stay out of jail’ pass through any ethical channels. Rub that damn magic lamp you have stuffed in your desk drawer and tell your fucking genie to grant Riley’s wish! You can’t let him down! I won’t let you. Don’t you get it? He loves Taylor. He will do anything to save her from that asshole!”
“And what if I can’t Jax?”
“Then make sure we share the same jail cell. One of us is going to help Riley. If you won’t, I will.”
“What about Sargent Adams? Does he know you’re A.W.O.L.? I’m no magician, Jax. I can only save one of your sorry asses.”
“Then make it Riley’s. I’ll cover my own. And I’m not A.W.O.L. until midnight tomorrow. As long as I’m on that airstrip in Virginia before the clock strikes midnight, I get to keep my glass slippers.”
“I’ll see what I can do. What time’s the wedding?”
I filled my dad in on the details while I walked back towards the room. I could see Riley through the crack in the cowboy print drapes, slumped sideways in the chair, snoring. I sat inside Bessie, watching Riley and writing down coordinates to the small chapel on the outskirts of Boston where the ceremony would take place.
In exchange for Dad calling his buddy and concocting some believable lie to buy me an extra day in case things went from disastrous to catastrophic, I divulged our whereabouts. Together, we spent the next hour brainstorming a half-assed plan.
My job would be to keep Riley hidden and level headed until my dad and the local authorities arrived at the church with the arrest warrant for Michael. But my task paled in comparison to the one Dad had to pull off—make Mom stay home.
**
Riley damn near broke the window with his class ring when he rapped the glass to the side of my head. I didn’t remember falling asleep in my car, but the painful crook in my neck was a far cry more comforting than if I’d woke up with my face planted in that disgusting motel bed.
“Let’s get moving. After all the death threats Dad left on my cell phone, there was a message from Lydia Daniels. The wedding’s been moved up two hours so the ‘happy couple’ can make a flight to Paris.”
Still moving in a sleepy stupor, I loaded the trunk with our stuff and dropped the room key in the overnight slot before Riley’s news update kicked in. Two hours had just been shaved off “the plan.” I had to notify Dad immediately without letting Riley know. I needed coffee first.
Riley didn’t argue when I chose the first open diner. We settled into a booth in the back and ordered the first of many cups of steaming hot java.
“I’ve got to go the ‘can’. Order whatever you want. My treat. It’s probably our last decent meal. Trust me, rations behind bars suck, and that’s the local jail. I can’t imagine how tasty the government menu could be someplace the size of Boston.”
Once out of Riley’s line of sight, I called Dad. I had to hand it to the old man for always pulling through when the stakes were high. He anticipated the possibility of complications and already boarded a flight, warrant in hand.
“Jaxson, I can’t stress this enough, but neither you nor Riley can be discovered. I know Riley’s going to want to bulldoze in and save the day, but he can’t. The local authorities are meeting me at the airport. We’ll take care of Michael Barnes. You take care of Riley.”
“Speaking of impossible tasks, how’s Mom?”
“I’m checking into cruises as we speak. I’ve never been in so much trouble. She locked herself in the bedroom and I slept on the sofa downstairs.”
“When you end up being the hero, she’ll forgive you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Dad, Mom will always be there. Riley’s the one you’ll lose.”
“Jax, I know we’ve had our differences, but you know I’ve always loved you, son, don’t you? While I’m not the warm fuzzy guy your mother wants me to be, I’ve hugged you in my heart constantly. I’m proud of you, Jaxson, for turning things around. By the way, I also know you took the blame for what really happened.”
My stomach flipped. “How?”
“Brandon came and talked to me. Don’t worry, we’ve worked it out with the town council. Brandon will take care of the marquee and you’ll pay for half of the damages to the car. I get to pay the rest. Good thing no one else wants my job.”
“The girls?”
“Will do three months community service, and in turn, I won’t file charges. Everybody wins.”
“Dad, I’m really sorry about the car…and everything else I fucked up.”
“You’re righting the wrong now. Unfortunately, life’s lessons aren’t easy. By the way, I was only able to get you a reprieve until noon tomorrow. My last magic trick.”
I heard the flight steward tell my dad to shut off his phone. He would be here in four hours. By my rough calculations, that allowed barely thirty minutes for the cavalry to ride in and save the day.
Thirty-One
MASQUERADE
Riley
“A minivan? Are you joking?” My chin slammed the pavement when Jax pulled up in a gray Honda Odyssey. When he told me we were renting a car so we wouldn’t be recognized, I went along with the scheme, but this seemed overkill.
“This is all they had left.”
“We look ridiculous.”
“That’s why we have to get some different clothes. We won’t be able to get within a mile of the church dressed in the jeans and T-shirts we�
��ve slept in for two days.”
“I can hardly wait to see what fashion statement you have in mind to match the ‘family wagon’.”
Forty-five minutes later we pulled behind the church. Jaxson convinced the kid guarding the parking lot we were with the wedding coordinator. Dressed in matching white shirts, black pants and skinny ties, driving a van that would allegedly transport items from the church to the reception—even I believed the lie.
“You scare me sometimes, Jax. How the hell did you come up this idea?”
Jaxson shut off the van and angled to face me. The door locks slammed down.
“Riley, I have something to tell you and I need you to stay calm.”
My shoulders stiffened, my hands coiled into tight fists. “O-kay.”
“This wasn’t entirely my idea. I called Dad last night after you fell asleep.”
“You did what? Why!” I fumbled with the handle but couldn’t open the door.
“Child locks. Now shut up and listen—and stop rocking the van.”
I inhaled a deep breath, let it slide out slowly. Jaxson told me about his conversations with Dad last night and also this morning. Part of me felt relief, knowing Dad would soon be here with a warrant to put Michael’s ass in jail. But the bigger part of me feared he wouldn’t make it in time, or that someone would catch on and ruin the surprise attack. I understood the importance of remaining hidden. If Taylor saw me and freaked out, all hell would break loose.
Leaning against the wall of the church, I hid to the side of a tall juniper tree while Jaxson did covert surveillance out front and called Dad. The Mini sat parked beside Michael’s Mercedes and a half dozen other expensive vehicles. The wedding party had arrived before us and I closed my eyes, picturing Taylor inside, getting dressed.
The one day a girl rocks it in the gorgeous department and the guy looks cheesy in a penguin suit. The most important day in Taylor’s life and all the effort she’d put into becoming a vision of beauty would be wasted on a guy who’d never appreciate her.
Anger flared again and I kicked the ground with my foot, scattering rocks everywhere. I bent and retrieved one close to my foot. Shaped like an egg, but flat on one side and marbled with brown and green. The color of the pond on a stormy day. I palmed the stone, feeling the cold smoothness against my skin, the way the water felt in the hot summer heat. A day like the one when I met Taylor.
A watery ripple flowed in my vision and my heart burned deep in my chest for Taylor. God I loved her! Why couldn’t I be the cheesy guy standing at the end of the aisle watching an angel come to me? Why Michael?
“Dude? You crying?” Jaxson asked in a hushed voice.
I pocketed the stone and wiped my cheeks with sleeve of my shirt. “No,” I lied. I checked my watch. If on schedule, the wedding would start in twenty minutes. “Tell me Dad’s here.”
“He’s landed and on his way.”
“Shit! We’re running out of time!”
“Relax, bro. You’ve got to trust the old man on this one.” Jax squeezed my shoulder. “Riley, he’ll be here.”
Jax left me and returned to the front of the church to watch for Dad. We had our cell phones on vibrate with each other’s number programmed on speed dial. One buzz signaled the rescue posse’s arrival. If there were two buzzes, we were to meet at the van and get the hell away fast. But that was Jax’s plan. Not mine. I wouldn’t leave without Taylor. Not this time. I was also tired of standing behind a damn tree. I opened the first door I came to and snuck inside.
Thirty-Two
WEDDING JITTERS
Taylor
I clenched Dad’s arm. My stomach rocked back and forth. I hadn’t been able to keep anything down the past two days and my nerves were beyond frazzled. This should be the most important day of my life—the day I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl. Today, I’d walk down an aisle and start my life with the man of my nightmares instead of the one of my dreams. Once our farce of a wedding ended, Michael’s good behavior would also come to a wretched end and I’d pay the price. At least my punishment would come with a view of the Eiffel Tower.
Dad pried my fingers off his arm and kissed the side of my veil covered head. “Taylor, you don’t have to do this,” he whispered.
The bones in my neck cracked I whipped my head so fast to meet his eyes. “What?”
“If you don’t love Michael, you shouldn’t marry him. Life is too short to spend it with someone you don’t love.”
“It’s too late!” I hissed, fighting back the wave of water searing the edges of my eyes.
A ribbon of sunlight crossed the carpet, turning the crystal beads along the bottom of my dress into dotted rainbows. I turned to face the light, spying the parking lot and the Mini. For a split second I wanted to believe it was a “sign.” A glimpse of my possible escape, but then the door shut silently, barring any hope and jerking me back to reality.
“It’s never too late, Taylor. I’ll take you away myself.”
Before I could catch the breath I lost, the chapel doors opened. Definitely too late. The path to Hell spread before me, covered in rose petals. The sun shining through the stained glass window sent a shaft of light illuminating my prison shackles, tied to the satin pillow held by Satan himself. Michael.
The wedding march started, sounding more like a funeral dirge. Dad sensed my hesitation in stepping forward and his hand covered mine, which wrapped his arm in a trembling iron grip.
Are you sure? His eyes questioned. I nodded slightly and took the first step toward the end of my life. A slow step, followed by another. The organist actually slowed the melody to match my tentative approach and I caught Michael’s dark glower.
Too damn bad. These last few moments of my life I controlled, and I savored every crush of carpet tuft beneath my feet.
I scanned the room, hoping beyond hope Grammy’s face would appear, but no. My heart sank. Michael refused to let me talk to her and forbade me to invite her to the wedding. He wanted all ties to Wellsville severed—all memories extinguished. Grammy’s presence would serve as a reminder my heart remained with someone else. Michael could have my body, but he would never have my heart and he knew it. My heart and soul belonged to Riley.
Nevertheless, without Michael’s knowledge or permission, I mailed Grammy an invitation. When I found out my soon-to-be prison warden moved the time up on the ceremony, I made Mom call her.
She argued at first, taking Michael’s side, but I threatened to elope if she didn’t, and she knew Michael wouldn’t hesitate if I suggested the option. After all the preparations she’d made to make ensure the reception met with the approval of Michael’s mother, eloping and abandoning her in her shining moment would be her social death.
Mom called Grammy and yesterday morning on the way to my required pedicure, manicure, and waxing, I secretly had a plane ticket couriered to her with a personal note, begging her to come.
I held my last step for as long as possible before placing my foot on the floor and squaring my body to face the demon I’d pledge my life to. Dad squeezed both my shoulders hard, allowing his fears to mingle with mine before stepping away. I placed my hands in Michael’s and stared into his flat, soulless eyes.
Thirty-Three
DISOBEYING ORDERS
Riley
Opening the first door I came to on the backside of the church, I half expected to land in a kitchen. Instead, I found myself on the opposite end of the main foyer. Taylor stood in the middle of the long hallway with some old guy I assumed to be her father. I froze. She looked breathtaking. Beyond gorgeous. Angelic.
Their hushed conversation ended and luckily a part of my brain communicated with my feet. When Taylor turned toward the light, I ducked into a dark alcove and held my breath. My fingers wound around another door knob and being more careful this time, I eased the second door open.
A long, narrow corridor, covered by heavy drapes along one side, extended before me. I stepped into the shadowy hall, peeking through a sl
it in the drapes. I ended up inside the chapel, near to the last rows of pews. This must be where someone disappeared to escape a boring sermon, or like me, hid to spy on their girlfriend’s wedding. One he wasn’t invited to.
The organ started the tum-tum-de-tum and my stomach dropped to my nerdy shiny shoes. My worst nightmare started to play out and I stood helpless to stop it. The back doors opened and the small crowd inside the chapel gasped in awe. Taylor, clenching the man standing with her, stepped inside, taking everyone’s breath with her beauty.
White lace with patches of sparkle sashayed slowly up the aisle. Taylor’s face hid behind a thin layer of fabric, but even from my limited vision I could see the terror in her eyes. She didn’t want this. Taylor looked like a dead girl walking to her grave. She barely moved. Even the music slowed to an awkward tempo.
Before the doors closed, I spied a couple of people tuck into the back pew on the opposite side of the chapel. Among the late stragglers, sat a woman—one whose profile I’d recognize anywhere. All she needed was a cup and a tea bag to dip. Lydia Daniels. Damn! I wished I stood behind the draped hallway on the opposite side of the room. I could have reached out and strangled her.
I moved to the next parting in the drapes and stopped. People filled the pews the rest of the way forward. If I went further, someone would catch the stench of a person who hadn’t showered in two days and presently sweat profusely behind the fabric wall. Plus, all the legs to wrangle around would stop my surprise attack.
In my mind, I would throw myself on the altar, dragging Michael with me and locking him in a chokehold, holding him until either the cops arrived…or he died from lack of air.
I moved back to the side of an empty pew because so far, my imaginary plan appeared to be the only one I had. My fingers fumbled inside my pocket, wrapping my cell phone. I checked to make sure it was on. Where was Dad? Jax? The ceremony had started! I cringed when Taylor took Michael’s hands. I watched her creamy shoulders pull slightly, the bony blades rigid like stone wings wanting to burst through and carry her away.
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