by Nicole Snow
“Please don't kill me, guys. I had to protect my family. I was just defending myself after what you did, Ryan. Jesus, you can have her! I never loved the little bitch, just wanted a trophy wife.”
Matt beats me to the first punch. He hits him in the face so hard Reg rocks back, staggering back into my arms. I grip the prick tight, forcefully turning his head so he's looking at the Marine.
My eyes go to the brass knuckles on my hand. Christ, I need to get them off. If I start hitting him now, I'm not going to stop, and then I'll really be a murderer.
“You call her that again, next time it'll be lead going in your skull,” he says. “She loved you once, asshole. Fell for your lies. You come near my sis again, and I swear, I'll kill you.”
He's quiet. Good.
The total lack of response says it's my turn. I push him down in the dirt and decaying leaves, falling on top of him, picking his head up by the neck so he can listen, and listen good. I let him feel the heavy, cold brass lining my fingers before I pull it off, pressing it harder into his cheek.
“You, Reginald, are done. We gave the FBI the truth about your sick dead uncle. It's going to take every weak, miserable fiber in your body to fight your instinct to squawk once the trial begins. We're going to nail your family to the fucking wall, and the entire town's going to know about it. Your parents are going to lose a lot of money. You'll be lucky if you can ever show your face around here again, without the good people turning their backs, or maybe worse.”
“Look, if it's a settlement you're looking for –“
“No.” My fist crashes into the back of his head, knocking him face first into the dirt. “I want justice, asshole. Peace. I want your fucked up family to pay for it's crimes because if Nelson did what he did with innocent girls, there's a lot more corruption for the FBI to find, and chances are you've benefited from it. I know he got them here with his charities, the same fucking reason I wound up in this town to begin with.”
“I'm...I'm not Uncle Nelson. Whatever he's done, it isn't me,” he says, venom running into his voice. “God, what's wrong with you? All this over her? I didn't do anything. I never meant to hurt her. She would've had a comfortable life. Nice justice you've got. Attacking a man over his family's sins.”
Matt and I share a look. In any other situation, seeing the huge marine roll his eyes would be hilarious, but not here.
Neither of us are interested in an ethics lesson from this cheating, miserable prick.
“Did I say you could speak?” I ask, rubbing his face into the ground, messing up his hair as much as I can. “Did I ask for your fucking moralizing, when you thought nothing of cheating, manipulation, tearing me away from her? When you and your folks probably knew what Nelson did, and let this town think he didn't deserve what happened?”
Matt steps behind me, and I'm glad he does. I'm afraid he'll have to hold me back from murdering the trash whose face I'm ramming into the ground again and again. Good thing I pulled off the knuckles.
His choking stops me. He's coughing and sputtering, his nose full of dirt and leaves.
Snarling, I roll him over, straddle him, and reach for the shoebox. “You're right about one thing, and only one – you're not on trial here for Nelson's crimes. But I'm damned sure not going to let you get in the way, retaliate, and try to cover his tracks any more.”
His eyes go huge when he sees me pulling out the heels. His face is scratched, his lip bloody, several new bruises promising to overwhelm the makeup on his jaw he put there for sympathy, to make me look like a crazier, more violent beast than I really am when the woman I love is under siege.
Unfortunately for him, he doesn't have to exaggerate much.
“No, no...I don't understand. Those shoes...what're you doing?!”
“Insurance, jackass,” Matt says, pulling out the protective stuffing inside them. He crouches behind me and gets to work on ripping off Reg's shoes, down to his bare feet.
I nod. “You're going to wear the shoes for a change, ass. We'll take pictures, and you won't move a muscle. Because if you decide to do something stupid again after we warned you not to, if you or your folks stick their noses into the investigation, the case, or come gunning for me, Kara, or any of the Lilydales ever again, I'll make sure these pictures hound you like a dog. You're so uptight about appearances, yeah? You won't have a reputation when every employer, every investment firm, every fucking politician you want to bribe knows what you look like in blue.”
He screams and thrashes while Matt stuffs his feet into the slim shoes, several sizes too small. It takes five minutes to get it straight, and by then I'm sure his toes feel like they're about to snap.
Smiling, I look down at his work. Matt smiles, gives me a thumbs up, and we both reach for our phones.
The reprobate has gotten the message. His eyes stay closed and he doesn't move a muscle the whole time we circle around him, snapping pics from every angle. I end with a snapshot of his face, just as his eyes pop open, scared and beaten.
Matt gives me a knowing look. We're done here. It's time to go home, and wait for further word from the sheriff or the FBI investigators who'll surely be calling me soon.
“Wait, wait. Where are you going?” Reg calls after us, his words like mush in his beat up mouth. “You can't just leave me like this?!”
We've only taken a few steps along the path we came when I stop, turn around, and look at the worm twisting on the ground. “Like hell we can't. Your phone's in your shoebox. Use it to call your gold digger mistress.”
His eyes bug out. I smile. “Enjoy her while she lasts. I've seen enough chicks in the corporate world to know she's only putting up with your bedroom antics because you're keeping the heels and fancy dinners coming. Soon as they're gone – and they will be, once the FBI digs through family history – she'll run so fast she kicks dust in your face. After everything your family did to me and Kara, several years alone will do you some good. Maybe you can clear your head, figure out your shit before it's too late.”
It's not hard to hear him struggling to get up in those heels clenched to his feet like vises. We just keep going, get in the truck, and leave beneath the moonlight.
We're heading back to the police station, where Kara's probably still sleeping. Matt left her there in the waiting room to get me in the back, after the sheriff made his choice. She's blissfully unaware I was being released to give her ex the kick in the balls he deserves.
I don't give him a second thought. Only thing that matters is having her in my arms tonight, back in my bed, a smile on her face because she knows, beyond all doubt, that everything is finally going to be okay.
“Ryan? Don't tell me – I'm dreaming?” She rubs her eyes before she'll believe it's me.
I could wait, let it sink in.
No, screw it. I haul her up off the seat, sweeping her into my arms.
There's nothing worth saying that these kisses can't for the next five minutes. Matt stands behind us, a smile on his face. I'm grinning like a damned fool the whole way through it, my lips conquering hers, knowing the universe is righting itself, one little piece at a time.
“They had you locked up,” she says when I let her catch her breath. “I don't understand. How?”
“An old friend helped me out,” I tell her, motioning to the gentle giant as he walks over. “Sheriff Dixon deserves some credit for doing the right thing, too.”
“We've got to get busy protecting ourselves,” she says, slipping out of my arms, grabbing her purse on the chair. “You know they'll come after us. The Draytons are in a fight for their lives, and they know who's responsible for what's coming.”
“Babe, wait.” I grab her by the wrist. Bringing her hand to my face, I lay my lips on it, planting a reassuring kiss. “Reg is done. Matt and I made sure he's not interfering with anything again.”
She gives us a desperate look, one after the other. “God. Tell me you didn't...you know.”
There's nobody around, but she's smart enough t
o lower her voice, realizing we're still standing in a police station.
“He'll live, and he won't press charges,” Matt says, throwing a brotherly arm around her shoulder. “All you need to know, sis. I'm not wasting another minute on his corrupt ass. Let's go home.”
“We'll talk to the FBI in the morning, I'm sure. Is it too late to open up Grounded?”
She blinks, not understanding where I'm going. “I'm the manager. It's never too late...why?”
“Because the bars in this town close too early on a Sunday to let me buy my friend a proper drink,” I look at Matt and he smiles. “Coffee will have to do for now, plus a few slices of that awesome cherry pie. I want you to bring your mom and the kid, if he's around. I can't wait anymore. We're sitting down like a family and smoothing things over tonight. As the man you're going to marry, I won't let anything come between us and our wedding.”
“Shit.” Matt pauses, then slaps me on the back so hard my knees lock. “I'd say you're moving too fast, but you were always the one for her, Ryan. We've waited five years too long to make it happen.”
We're both smiling, but it's nothing compared to the angelic grin on her face. My eyes eat her up a little bit at a time. As heartwarming as this is, and as pleased as I am to see her happy, I can't stop the lewd thoughts pulling at me from the inside out.
“Call your mom, guys. I want to sit down tonight. All of us.”
I want to take care of the last thing between me laying down the woman I love for a few hard hours in the sheets.
They both reach for their phones. I stand against the wall, ready to put one big happy family back together after an eternity apart. I'm ready for the nice.
The naughty's coming straight after.
There's nothing like the hours I spent in prison, thinking I'd never have her lips or her legs around me again, to make my dick stand on end.
This night isn't over until we find a bed, even if it blurs into morning. I'm going be inside her, celebrating our love, our promises, our future.
“Amazing to see you again, Mrs. Lilydale.” I take her hands as soon as she steps through the door.
Her eyes light up like I've returned from the dead. I'm not sure who's got the tighter grip.
“Ryan!” she throws her arms around me. “I'm sorry, son. I did you wrong.”
“You kept a promise,” I whisper, as soon as she pulls away to face me, tears brimming in her eyes. “I kept mine. The Drayton's won't be bothering us anymore, and I'm going to marry your daughter. Only thing I've ever wanted.”
I release her. Kara comes over and helps her shaken mom to the table, where there's a fresh cherry pie and a giant steel thermos of coffee. I take a seat next to her, reaching for her hand underneath the table.
We talk past sunrise. There's a lot of catching up to do.
I hear all about Matt's exploits in Afghanistan, how hard the Lilydales fought to hang on since Bart died, how bad a blow it was when the divorce hit, and how Matt's ex still keeps the kid most weekends out of spite.
That last one makes me take a slow, smooth sip of coffee that burns my throat. When we've wrapped up loose ends, I'm going to get him the best lawyer in the state to wring more time with his son from the cheating bitch.
By dawn, Kara starts to doze. She's cuddled up next to me, a smile on her face, when Matt stands up, rubbing his eyes. “Time to get some sleep. It's my last week on leave before I'm on active duty again.”
“You earned it, man. Couldn't have done any of this without you.” I put out my fist. He bumps his on mine.
Just like old times. I came here for Kara, but I've gotten my best friend back too. “Whenever you're ready to retire from the service, call me. I'll do whatever it takes to help you set up something new. If it's in the cards for Bart's Auto coming back, deal me in.”
“Nah, Ryan. I can't take your money, even if I think you're fit to join the family.”
“Then let me help apply for a loan, or get you a deal on a place,” I say. “Don't answer me now. Just think about it. When the time comes, you'll tell me. Worry about the big picture, and I'll do the details.”
He nods respectfully, a small, understanding smile on his face. That's the last I thing I see before he turns his back and marches out the door. Mrs. Lilydale sits across the table smiling, sipping her coffee. She's tired, but the reunion keeps her awake, one we all thought we'd never see.
I look at my girl carefully, making sure she's asleep on my shoulder, before I lean in and ask the question I've been dying to pop since she stepped through the door. “There's something I need. Do you know what happened to Kara's old ring – the first one I gave her when we got engaged all those years ago?”
Smiling, she nods. “Locked away in my drawer. Your locket's there too. She couldn't stand the sight of them after she thought you weren't coming home. I kept them safe...just in case.”
I reach for my wallet, pulling out a business card that has my personal address for the new office in town. “Please, when you get a chance, I'd love it mailed here. I've already got her a fancy new ring, but it isn't enough. I want her to have the ring I always meant her to wear, too. As far as I'm concerned, the last five years apart didn't happen. I'm using everything I can to remind her we were always meant to be, Mrs. Lilydale.”
“It's time you started calling me Bets if you're going to be my son-in-law.” The warm smile pulling at her lips brightens her face, smoothing away the accumulated sadness in wrinkles. “You'll have it by tomorrow, Ryan. Bart would've been so happy to see how wrong he was, you know.”
I think about him when she grabs my hand. It's like I can feel the old man's ghost, big and approving, standing over all of us as he watches the impossible happen.
“I know, Bets. Hell, I'm honoring his memory by making this girl the happiest woman in the world, every single day we've got left on this earth.” I lean down and kiss Kara's forehead.
It wakes her softly. Perfect timing because it's past six o'clock now, and the morning crew is coming in through the back of the cafe.
Soon, we're saying goodbye to her mom, and heading for my car. I'll have to keep looking over my shoulder in case Reg is stupid enough to ignore his final warning, but it's not slowing me down.
I'll have the girl in my arms claimed, wed, and worshipped by the time the winter thaws.
For the first time in my life, the wealth and success finally means something. The millions upon millions in my accounts are more than just bare numbers on a screen. I'm going to spend every damned dime giving her the moon, and then doing the same for her folks.
Good looks and money always bring power. It's worthless if it doesn't make her skin hot and happy to the touch every second her hand's in mine. Driving to our hotel, I try to comprehend how fucking lucky I am, having a second chance with the most beautiful bride in the world.
No matter how many times I roll it over in my mind, I still can't get it. But I'm damned sure not going to forget.
Ever.
Seven Months Later
Church bells ring all the way down the coast. Several barges down the Superior shore blow their horns. A hundred thousand people in half a dozen towns know the hour has arrived.
Nobody except our gaggle of guests hears the most explosive, heartfelt rendition of Here Comes the Bride. That's for us, our friends, and our family, but it seems like the entire universe knows what's happening, down to the fire in our hearts.
Mine becomes an inferno the second I see her heading down the makeshift path strewn with flowers. That creamy, skin tight wedding dress clings to her like an angel's gown, making her a white shadow against the Armitage lighthouse's dark grey brick in the background.
I have to take my eyes off her, and face the priest, just to keep my dick from ripping through trousers in front of half the town.
God, what a woman.
Hell, what a town.
What a wedding.
It's hard to believe the changes over the last six months. This décor, music, and
atmosphere are more than anything I imagined. It's all coming together perfectly. Easy when you own the place where you're getting married.
The Draytons abandoned the historical fund and half the other charities in town as soon as they were busted. A hundred years of wealth and haughty reputations spiraled down the drain after the FBI proved Nelson's crimes. The Feds stripped away the assets he'd gotten from the sex trade, easily about ninety percent of their wealth, or so the papers said.
They even lost the lighthouse. It's mine now.
When it isn't open to the town, like today, I know it's the best wedding present I could've given us.
The music keeps going, and she's getting closer. I fix my eyes on hers, watching that beautiful veil ripple behind her golden hair. Behind her, there's Bets, little Holden bouncing on his grandma's lap. My mother-in-law reaches up and wipes a tear, just as Kara reaches the altar.
I step up, taking the last of the veil that's covering her face, drawing it back behind her head. When she sees me, blush fills her cheeks, and I have to fight twice as hard to control the raging erection in my pants.
It takes the song forever to end. Neither of us mind, content to relish the moment. I take both her hands in mine. Squeezing, rubbing, promising a thousand kinds of naughty and nice. She looks into my eyes and mouths one word.
“Soon.”
A jolt runs through my spine. Can't come fast enough, hauling her into bed, stripping off the delicate white layers covering her beautiful body like the icing on our cake.
I'm never going to let these hands go. They're going to be in mine while we're taking our vows. They'll be tangled in my fingers while we're walking to the limo, heading for the reception. Later, they'll be clenched like they're going to break when I have her, pinning her little hands above her head while I take her good and hard.
Fuck later. I want it now.
Luckily, I want to make us official even more. We turn to the priest as the music dies down, and he smiles, the same warm glow on his face we've seen during the rehearsals.
