My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding

by T. Sue VerSteeg

  "Oh, so now that I have the upper hand, you want to settle this without violence. What happened when you guys caught me from behind and beat me up? Two on one is not fair, unless the one person is holding a gun." A crazy look rounded his eyes, as he adjusted his grip on the gun, his finger flinching at the trigger. "I think I'm actually going to enjoy killing you both."

  Jemma couldn't stand around and watch any longer. "No!" She bolted out of the room and into the hallway.

  Stacy's stunned expression only lasted a millisecond before the same demented look crawled across her face. She squeezed the trigger of the shotgun without even standing up. Buckshot filled the air, peppering Jemma in the arm and shoulder, with the bulk of it going over her head and through the roof. The recoil from the massive twelve gauge firearm and Stacy's poor grip caused the rocking chair, with Stacy in it, to flip backwards, the gun barrel snapping into her nose. She dropped the gun, screaming in agony, blood pouring through her fingers as she clutched her face. Dalton instinctively turned toward the ruckus, giving Tony the split second to grab the gun and twist Dalton's grip upward.

  Jemma fell limp to the ground, holding her shoulder. Blood soaked her blouse and jacket, and pain blazed through her, putting her past injuries to shame. Kate scurried over and helped Jemma out of her jacket, using it to apply pressure to her wounds. Mike darted over and hugged Kate, kissing her as though they'd been separated for months. She returned the kiss, but kept the pressure constant on Jemma's bullet wounds.

  Jemma twisted her head to follow the action. Dalton and Tony wrestled for the gun, the men fairly even-matched, pound for pound. Dalton slammed Tony against the wall, each man keeping a death grip on the pistol. Tony gained his bearings and pushed Dalton across the room into the picture window, the glass shattering upon impact, raining to the stained carpet. He screamed in pain, but didn't let go of the gun. He shoved Tony back against the kitchen island, sending dirty plates and glasses crashing to the floor. They crunched their way through the broken glass, and Tony slammed Dalton against the refrigerator, pushing the remaining glass shards imbedded in his back farther into his skin. Dalton squealed again, but would not let go of the gun. No doubt, he knew his very life depended on his firm grip.

  Jemma attempted to push herself into a sitting position, but the room teetered, and she fell flat on her back. Mike ran toward the loose shotgun, but Stacy saw him, abandoned her nose bleed, and latched onto it first, ramming it into his chest, backing him securely against the wall.

  Dalton summoned energy from some unknown source and pushed Tony away with one hand, while retaining sole possession of the gun. Tony stumbled across the room and tripped on the overturned chair. He tumbled to the ground with a hard thump, hitting his head and going limp. Jemma pushed past the pain and dizziness, and forced herself into a sitting position. Kate yanked at her good arm, but Jemma pulled away.

  She crawled toward Tony, touching his arm. "Are you okay?"

  His eyes fluttered open to slits, but quickly rounded. He jumped back up and ran at Dalton, releasing a primal growl.

  Tony grabbed the gun and it disappeared between them.

  A muted gunshot rang out, and both men tumbled to the kitchen floor among the shattered glass. Unheeding of her wounds, Jemma forced herself to her feet and ran to the man she loved. Both men were motionless, Dalton lying on top of Tony. Blood poured out from between them and pooled on the cluttered floor. Jemma ushered up all of her strength and shoved an unconscious Dalton over to assess Tony's blood soaked clothing. She released a heavy breath when she saw the blood oozing from Dalton's groin. Tony opened up his arms, and she fell into his embrace.

  Stacy's piercing wails filled the air, followed by the loud thud of the discarded shotgun as she darted to her man's side. "Dalton's been shot! Someone call 911!" The faint shrill of sirens already howled in the distance.

  Mike walked over to her, the shotgun in his grasp and aimed at them. "They've already been called about a kidnapping, so that shouldn't be a problem."

  Stacy picked up a dirty dishtowel and pushed the filthy rag onto the bleeding gash on his upper thigh.

  He opened his eyes and glared at her. "You ignorant cunt, I told you not to fire that shotgun."

  Stacy shook her head and said, "Excuse me?"

  Two policemen kicked the door open and entered the trailer, guns drawn. "Everyone freeze!"

  Dalton's mom walked out of the hallway, squinting into the bright light. Her filthy, over-processed blond hair was squashed on one side from sleep. Her clothing consisted of a short T-shirt clinging to her saggy breasts and skimpy underwear that did little to contain her over grown pubic region. Her over-done, smeared makeup completed her clown-like appearance.

  She sucked the life from a cigarette as she sauntered into the living room. "What the hell is going on in here? Can't you tell I'm trying to sleep one off?" Her voice was raspy, her tone nonchalant.

  The policemen looked at each other in disbelief. One of them finally asked, "Ma'am, is this your house?"

  "Who wants to know?"

  Again, they shared a confused look. The same officer pointed to the badge on his uniform and said, "The Kansas City Police Department wants to know."

  She flipped her palms up in a blasé surrender motion. "The place actually belongs to my ex-husband, if you want to be technical. He's currently serving eight to ten if you'd like to talk to him. All I want to know is who plans on paying for all of this."

  The other officer waved his gun toward the blood soaked kitchen. "Who called about the kidnapping?"

  Mike raised his hand and said, "That would be me, sir. Can you call an ambulance for my sister?"

  "One is on the way. Care to tell us what happened?"

  Dalton attempted to sit up, but fell flat onto his back again. "That bastard shot me; that's what happened!" He pointed a finger at Tony and released an overly dramatic groan of pain, throwing an arm across his forehead.

  Tony rose to a standing position, and the officer shoved the barrel of his gun in his direction. "I told you to freeze!"

  Tony raised his hands in front of his body. "I'm sorry. I did shoot him, but only after he shoved the gun in my face and I wrestled him for possession. It wasn't my intent to fire the weapon."

  "Which one of you is Dalton Blackwell?" the policeman asked.

  Everyone in the room, including Stacy, pointed at Dalton.

  "Dalton Octavius Blackwell, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…"

  "Wait a minute! I get shot and you arrest me? What the hell?"

  "We got a call from Michael Keith."

  Mike waved a raised hand at the officer.

  "And another from a Mr. McCallister in Springfield saying that you abducted his daughter outside of the courthouse. Which one of you is Kate McCallister?"

  "Me," Kate called out from the hallway.

  The officer tossed her his cell phone. "Call your dad. He's worried sick."

  "Thank you, sir."

  He turned his attention back to Dalton. "If you do not have an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the courts."

  Tony pointed toward a wavering, bobbing Jemma. "If I may tend to her, sir?"

  The officer nodded. "Of course."

  He stripped his shirt off, revealing massive arm muscles from his sleeveless T-shirt. He wadded up the polo, using it to apply pressure to Jemma's shoulder. She hadn't realized it was bleeding so much until she watched him cover it. The entire front of her shirt was wet and red, she panicked, everything finally catching up and overcoming her. Her world turned dark again. Her last thought was, damn this is getting old.

  * * *

  A staccato beeping noise roused Jemma. She opened her eyes, and the room slowly came into focus. Unfamiliar white walls and a window were the only things she could make out from her prone position. Early morning sun streamed in, warming the room, giving it a dreamlike quality. She turned her
head. An IV bag and heart monitor sat next to her bed, which explained the beeping. She wiggled over in an attempt to find the bed controls. Pain burst through her shoulder, shooting down her arm, and she cried out.

  The door to her bathroom flew open and slammed against the wall. She expected Mike to be standing there with such an entrance. Instead, it was Tony. His five o'clock shadow and dark circles hinted he'd never left her side.

  "You're awake." He darted to the chair beside her bed and sat. He held the hand of her good arm and planted kisses on her palm. "The doctors said you'd be fine, but I wasn't going to leave until I saw those beautiful green eyes of yours again."

  "You could have pried one of them open and taken a peek. I rather doubt I'd have minded a bit."

  "Ah, and now the snarky sense of humor has surfaced. I know you'll be okay."

  Jemma pulled her hand from his and touched his cheek. "I'm so glad that you weren't the one who was shot. I heard the gun go off, saw all of the blood…" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I thought I'd lost you."

  "Yeah, I'm very familiar with that feeling." Tony pointed at her bandaged shoulder.

  "Well," she chided, "my feeling was way worse than your feeling."

  "Of course."

  Jemma sighed, dropping her head back onto her pillow. "I know I shouldn't care, but how is Dalton?"

  Tony attempted to stifle a laugh in his hand, clearing his throat to regain composure. "Well, he's going to be okay, but he lost a testicle."

  "Wow." She snorted. "I can't think of anything more fitting."

  "Oh, but there's more. Stacy turned on Dalton. I don't know the whole story, but they offered her a plea bargain to get her accessory charges dropped. She told the police everything. He's a poor, lonely, one-testicled man on his way to prison."

  "Touché."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Five months whizzed by. Summer had faded to fall and then to winter. Jemma glanced around at the sea of faces in the pews of her family church as the wedding march blared from the organ. She linked her arm with Tony's, as they descended the stairs and made their way back up the aisle together. She hugged his arm to her side, scrunching her bouquet, but she didn't care. Tony looked positively scrumptious in this tux, even more so than the last one she'd seen him in. The emerald green accessories complemented his complexion much better than the yellow had. She couldn't help the adoring look as she gazed up at his handsome features, and he guided her out to the receiving line.

  Tony twirled her to face him once they were outside the sanctuary doors. "You are positively radiant today." He leaned toward her, and she popped up on her tippy-toes to meet him halfway. Their lips met in a tender kiss.

  "Hey, stop hogging all of our attention," Mike blurted, shoving through their perfect moment with Kate at his side. "This is our wedding. Go have your own, already."

  Jemma ran over to her brother, and he caught her in an enormous hug, pulling her out of her shoes. They clomped to the floor as he swung her around.

  "Sorry, big bro.' I'm so happy for you guys." She kissed him on the cheek, and he returned her to her feet next to her dyed green pumps.

  "I'll forgive you this time, but only because you were my Best Woman. Do you have your speech ready?"

  "Oh, yeah." She waggled a brow and laced her fingers together, cracking her knuckles.

  "No." He shoved a hand in her face. "I don't want evil Jemma giving it." Mike grabbed her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. "Hello, Nice Jemma? Are you in there?"

  She nudged him with her elbow, batting her lashes in overstated innocence. "Of course, I'll be nice."

  Tony walked up to Kate and grabbed her hands. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy or this beautiful. You deserve this." He folded her in his arms.

  Tears welled in Kate's eyes. "Thank you so much for being a sport and not arguing when we asked you to be my Man of Honor. I was afraid you'd think we were crazy."

  "I wouldn't have had it any other way."

  "Pssst, you guys are holding up the line," Mike announced.

  "They'll have to wait one more second." Tony kissed her on the forehead, and moved down the line to Mike and extended his hand.

  "I don't think so. We're family now." Mike pulled Tony into a hug, slapping him on the back. Obviously taken aback, it took Tony a second to respond. He squeezed Mike, slapping him harder in return.

  "Okay, break it up. I want those arms around me now." Jemma grabbed Tony and pulled him to her side.

  First, from the backed up receiving line, came Kate's parents. They took turns hugging their daughter and new son-in-law. Kate's mom cried happy tears, and the effect wore off on her daughter as they clutched each other. Making their way toward Tony and Jemma, their somber faces made her weak with a panic attack.

  No one told them the truth about me?

  Mr. McCallister patted Tony's face and walked to Jemma, stopping in front of her. "Young lady, I believe my family owes you an apology and a deep serving of gratitude for all that you put up with from us."

  Mrs. McCallister appeared at her husband's side, aggressively nodding in agreement. "We're so sorry for listening to that…" She paused, looking about with a puzzled look, like she just couldn't find a word bad enough. "Well, you know what he is."

  "Yes, I think we all do. Thank you." A tear slid down Jemma's cheek—a tear of relief or joy, she wasn't sure. One of Mr. McCallister's bear hugs enveloped her unexpectedly, but Mrs. McCallister quickly pried Jemma free and shooed her husband down the line.

  Family, friends, and well-wishers filed by methodically shaking hands, giving hugs, and even a few pecks on the cheek. Jemma watched her brother and his new bride greet each one as though they were their favorite aunt, uncle, cousin, or friend, the smiles on both of their faces as genuine as the love they shared.

  The long line finally came to an end, and the wedding party moved into the reception hall. The flash of the wedding photographer's camera caught Jemma off guard with the realization that this was the first thought she'd given to not being able to photograph her own brother's wedding. Being a control freak, it also came as a surprise that she was okay with it. Her place for this particular wedding was right next to Tony. She threaded her fingers through his, and they made their way to the long table for her toast.

  She raised her glass. Clink-clink-clink.

  "Could I have your attention, please?" Jemma's words carried easily, and a hush fell over the crowd of guests. "I know this wedding was a bit unorthodox by having a Man of Honor and a Best Woman, but unorthodox fits this couple well." Jemma turned, smiling at Kate and winking at her brother. "Up until Mike met Kate, he was lazy, crude, unmotivated, disorganized, unruly…"

  Mike reached over and tugged at the back of her dress, softly whispering, "You promised Nice Jemma. Remember?"

  "Well, you all get the picture." Laughter rippled through the crowd. "I've seen so many changes in my brother, changes that didn't happen because someone else wanted them to; these happened because he found his soul mate. Love can be a fleeting thing, and few people are lucky enough to catch it and hold on. Here's to a couple who were more than lucky; they were blessed with true love." Jemma raised her glass to the crowd and then turned to tap her glass to her brother's and Kate's. She sipped her drink, recognizing the taste of the champagne; the same kind that Tony had served her when he made supper for her at his house. She sat in her chair, looked down the table at him, and raised her glass.

  He raised his and mouthed the words 'I love you' before taking a drink.

  Life doesn't get much better than this.

  With pictures taken of everyone seated in order at the table, the time arrived for Mike and Kate to cut their cake. At last, Jemma was free to find Tony and sit with him. He met her halfway, finding her in the crowd.

  He grabbed her hands, raising her fingertips to his lips, and planted a separate kiss on each one. "I really am deeply, madly, and totally in love with you." He brushed his fingers along the
fading scars on her left shoulder, then leaned in and kissed them like he had nearly every day since the shooting.

  Jemma's mind wandered to her happy place, but it wasn't the same. Johnny, Bradley and Tom were gone. Now, the only man she needed was standing right in front of her. She opened her eyes again, a total sense of peace washing through her. There were literally no doubts in her mind. Her mom's voice in her head was happy; her dad's hard taught orneriness wasn't arguing either.

  About Tony, anyway. She was female, so there were bound to be moments of unrest about something else in the future.

  Tony escorted her to a back table where they could watch the festivities but still sneak in kisses every now and again without drawing any attention away from the bride and groom.

  The DJ's booming voice broke through the noisy crowd. "It's that time, folks. Mr. and Mrs. Keith, please make your way to the floor for your first dance as man and wife."

  Blissfully happy, Mike and Kate swayed to the music until the DJ announced the father/daughter dance. Mike bowed slightly toward his new father-in-law, kissed his wife's hand, and gave it to her father. Jemma fanned her face, the emotions swirling through her, welling tears in her eyes. After that, the floor filled up with family members and friends who'd obviously taken advantage of the open bar, dancing around and having fun. Jemma and Tony sat and watched people twist and turn to the music, enjoying at all of the alcohol induced slips and slides in the process.

  During one of their kissing breaks, Jemma felt a tap on her shoulder. Mike smiled down at her. "I wanted to thank you again before we left. Our plane leaves in two hours, and we have to change and get our bags."

  Jemma rose and slipped into her brother's awaiting embrace while Kate walked around the table and hugged Tony. "You guys have fun. Don't put any thoughts to us freezing our butts off while you're dipping your toes in the sands of Fiji. Honestly, we'll be fine. We have plenty of wood in case the power lines freeze again. Heck, I'm pretty sure that Tony has a generator at his house, so really, we'll all be fine."