by Beth Yarnall
“Will you help me put myself back together?” I asked Juan Carlos. “We have a wedding to attend.”
“I will, but we haven’t got much time. Considering what you went through, I won’t complain about not having much to work with. Or remark on the travesty that is your hair. Or worry about where your other eyelashes went. Or…”
I held up a hand. “You’re wasting valuable repair time, you know.”
Richard escorted me to the chair he’d put up to the mirror and they both began their work on me. I tried not to look too closely at myself in the mirror. If I did, I might worry about the bruising that was just beginning to appear around my mouth, reminding me of what I’d just been through.
Instead I focused on the steady stream of Juan Carlos’s commentary, ignoring the pain in my wrist and the bruises where Jun’s fingers had left their mark. I hardly felt the tug on my tender scalp as Richard brushed my hair back into a twist or how each hairpin dug in, like a giant needle.
What had I called Jun? Innocuous? As dangerous as a basket of kittens under a rainbow? Something in him had called to something in me. I’d felt a kinship, a friendship with him from the start. How wrong I was. How terribly, horribly wrong. Alex had called it a gift, my wanting to see the best in everyone. I wasn’t so sure of that. At the moment it weighed on me, feeling more like a defect.
No, I wasn’t going to think about any of that. I turned my thoughts instead to Vivian.
“Promise me something, guys.” I looked at all three of their faces in the mirror. “Nobody tells Vivian what happened today. Got it? This is her day. And I want her to have it.”
They agreed, unable to hide the grimness of the secret. Tomorrow we’d tell her. If I couldn’t give her Dhane back, I could at least give her a wedding day filled with joy and love.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I stood, waiting at the front of the Little White Wedding Chapel with Juan Carlos on my right as the man of honor and Alex on my left as the best man. James stood between Alex and me, his face split nearly in half by a gigantic grin. He looked impossibly happy, as though nothing that had happened or would happen could ever compare to this moment.
He was waiting for his bride.
The Elvis impersonator/officiant pressed a button on the podium and the wedding march began, a bluesy version of Billy Idol’s “White Wedding.” He sang the words, doing a pretty good imitation of The King. Vivian appeared at the end of the aisle, stunning in a red-and-black lace dress and black veil. My eyes filled with tears that I let spill over. She looked so beautiful. Her gaze fixed on James as she step-togethered her way up the aisle. Then she made an impatient face, picked up her skirt, and ran the last half of the distance.
James caught her and spun her around for a dip ending in a kiss that had Elvis mumbling, “Hunk-a hunk-a burnin’ love.”
I laughed, and it felt so good I didn’t want to stop. Next thing I knew, Vivian was hugging me, exclaiming over my hair and dress. We tittered like little girls over each other’s outfits before Elvis cleared his throat and tapped his watch.
Vivian took her place next to James, slipping her hand in his.
“Dearly beloved,” Elvis began, the reflection of Vivian and James in his sunglasses. “We are gathered here today to join this couple in the holy, holy bond of matrimony.”
As Elvis did his thing, my attention wandered to Alex. He stood tall next to James, taking his role seriously, his gaze fixed on me. His mouth tipped up into that smile I had no defense against and the chaotic place inside me stilled. Maybe we’d make it, like Vivian and James, and maybe we wouldn’t. I only knew in that moment, in that cheesy chapel with the fake flowers and faker Elvis, I had the strength to give it a try.
Nothing about this weekend in Las Vegas had turned out the way we’d planned, the way we’d wanted it to. But as I looked around at my friends I knew one thing for certain, none of our lives would ever be the same. Juan Carlos and Richard had found something they didn’t know they could have. Vivian and James had pledged their lives to each other. And Alex and I were beginning an uncertain adventure, taking it very, very slow.
And maybe that’s more than anyone could expect from a wild weekend in Las Vegas.
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Books By Beth Yarnall
Pleasure at Home
Rush
Lush
Hush (2016)
The Misadventures of Maggie Mae
Wake Up Maggie
You’re Mine, Maggie
Find Me Maggie
Azalea March Mysteries
Dyed and Gone
Recovered Innocence
Vindicate
Atone
Reclaim
God of Redemption Series
Far From Honest (2017)
Far From Innocent (2017)
Far From Safe (2018)
Stand Alone Novels
A Deep and Dark December
Crafting Unputdownable Fiction Series
Making Description Work Hard For You
Going Deep Into Deep Point of View
Acknowledgments
A very special thank-you to Debra Mullins for taking me under her wing when I had no idea how and when to use a comma and for gently suggesting that I forget there’s a semicolon key on my keyboard because I clearly had no idea how to use it (still don’t!). You will always be the honorary president of the Juan Carlos fan club…should ever such a thing exist.
Charity Hammond and Alison Diem contributed so much to this book and my journey as an author. I am forever grateful to you ladies for your friendship and advice.
This truly is the book of my heart and I’m so very thankful for whichever stars aligned just right to make my editor, Stacy Abrams, pluck these pages from her slush pile and decide they should be a published novel. Thank you for seeing the diamond in the rough and helping me polish it to a high shine.
And to my husband and sons who put up with a lot of frozen pizza and takeout so that I can write my stories. We’re a little bit closer to that swimming pool, boys.
About the Author
Award winning author, Beth Yarnall, writes mysteries, romantic suspense, and the occasional hilarious blog post. A storyteller since her playground days, Beth remembers her friends asking her to make up stories of how the person `died' in the slumber party game Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, so it's little wonder she prefers writing stories in which people meet unfortunate ends. In middle school she discovered romance novels, which inspired her to write a spoof of soap operas for the school's newspaper. She hasn't stopped writing since.
For a number of years, Beth made her living as a hairstylist and makeup artist and at one time owned a salon. Somehow hairstylists and salons always seem to find their way into her stories. Beth lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons, and their rescue dog where she is hard at work on her next novel.
For more information about Beth and her novels please visit her website:
www.bethyarnall.com
Copyright
DYED AND GONE
Beth Yarnall
Copyright © 2014, 2016 Elizabeth A. Yarnall
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference.
Digital ISBN: 978-1940811819
Print ISBN: 978-1940811802
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
First Edition: March 2014
