by Lane Hart
“She blames me for not being here, and she’s right. How could she ever forgive me?” I ask Bridgette.
“She doesn’t blame you for the shit your father did to her. She blames him and herself I think, which is insane. Mina needs you, something good for once in her life. She deserves to be happy, and I think she was with you, even with everything else she was dealing with.”
I know I can’t even begin to put a dent in making up for the three hundred horrible assaults he inflicted on her. Hell, I don’t even know how to try and ask her forgiveness for just the single one that happened last night.
“Well, I hope you’ll stay, but I’m in a bit of a hurry right now,” Bridgette says. “I need to get our dresses and get to the church within the next fifteen minutes.”
My jaw drops at her words, wondering if I heard them right. “The church? What the hell?” I ask.
“Wedding’s at eight, and the bride needs her dress,” she says with a smug grin. “Bye, Patrick.” With a wave of her manicured fingers, she pulls away, turning into the driveway and leaving me stunned beyond belief.
What in the ever-loving fuck is Mina thinking?
Is she seriously gonna marry that jackass after everything she’s been through?
Fuck if I’m gonna let that happen. There’s no reason for her to keep using that boy as an escape now that my father’s locked up.
I hate myself for not being able to save Mina all those years ago, but then I suddenly remember Austin’s words the day before he was killed. His promise.
“I’ll never be able to get back all the years I lost with them after being a dumbass and getting Alyssa pregnant, but somehow I’ll find a way to make it up to him and her both.”
Maybe I can find a way to make up for letting Mina down, for not being there for her when she needed me. I can be the one who keeps her safe for the rest of her life, loving her the way she deserves. I won’t be able to erase everything that happened to her, but just maybe I can be the one to hold her every night and help her begin to cope with the damage that asshole’s done to her.
Decision made, I crank my bike and peel out down the street only to sputter to a stop about half a mile later.
You have got to be fucking kidding me!
Checking the gasoline gauge, sure enough, it’s on empty.
“Need a lift?” Bridgette asks when she pulls back up beside me a few minutes later.
“Yes,” I tell her with a huff. Climbing off the bike, I open her passenger door and slip inside, tossing my helmet in the backseat.
“One condition,” Bridgette says with a wrinkled nose. “I take you back to the house first so you can shower and put on the tux.”
“What? Why?” I ask. “I thought you were in a hurry.”
“Not that big of a hurry,” she says before doing a u-ey to head back to the house. “You can’t go to a wedding looking like that, and you smell like a homeless criminal.”
“Well, I did spend the night in a jail cell,” I inform her as she turns into the driveway and pulls around the house, stopping right next to the back door.
“You can’t sweep my sister off her feet looking and smelling like that,” she tells me. “Go shower and get changed!”
“Fine,” I agree since I can’t show up and ask Mina to be with me looking like a poor man. Even if that’s all I am, I can at least try to look the part of a man who can give her everything she’ll ever want.
Opening the car door, I climb out, unlock the house’s back door with the same spare key and run up the stairs.
Ten minutes later, I walk out the house fresh and clean wearing the stuffy penguin suit, only to realize I’ve been fucked over by my little stepsister.
Bridgette’s car is gone. Vanished.
Shit! She obviously doesn’t think I belong with Mina if she refused to give me a ride. And I sure as fuck don’t feel worthy of her either. But the idea of Mina marrying someone else is completely unacceptable. I want to be the man she needs me to be, even if it won’t be easy to deal with the pain of knowing what’s happened to her. If she can forgive me for not being able to save her sooner, then I’ll never leave her side.
But first I have to figure out how to get to that goddamn church.
Pulling out my cell phone from the suit pants, I call Alyssa, hoping they’re still in the area.
“Patrick?” she answers right away.
“Hey, are you guys still in town?” I ask her frantically.
“Yeah, we’re staying at a hotel here tonight. Why?”
“I need a ride ASAP.”
“Yay! We’re on the way.”
…
Mina
I’ve just pulled up to the church when my cell phone rings.
Bridgette.
“Hey, where are you?” I ask since it’s five minutes to eight.
“Sorry. I couldn’t decide what to wear, but I’m on the way,” she says. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
“You got the dresses?”
“Yep,” she answers. “So why didn’t you tell me that our brother has a hot as hell motorcycle?”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“I saw Patrick on his new Harley near the house.”
“Patrick has a motorcycle? Since when?”
“Not sure. Maybe he bought it to drive home. He was on his way out when I saw him.”
“Oh,” I mutter in disappointment. “So Patrick’s, like, really gone?”
“Yeah, he split. Guess he wasn’t the hero you thought he was,” she says, taking all the air out of me. “Okay, I’m here.”
Bridgette’s Altima pulls up next to mine in the church’s parking lot, so I end our phone call, feeling sick to my stomach with the finality of knowing Patrick’s gone. I can’t believe he up and left without even saying goodbye. Imagining never seeing him again, my already fractured heart splits in two. I know that last night and today have been stressful as hell for him, but I didn’t expect him to just bail on me. He must have decided that I’m not worth the hassle or he doesn’t want to be with me because of the baggage of my disgusting past.
“Come on,” Bridgette says when she opens my driver door with her arms full of the dress bags. “We’re in a hurry, right? And why do you look so depressed? You’re the one who said it couldn’t work with Patrick in North Carolina and you here.”
“Yeah,” I reply, swallowing past the lump of regret in my throat. “It just sucks, you know? I already miss him.”
“I’m gonna miss him too, but maybe some time apart will be good for you, help you decide if you’re right for each other. Even though you’re totally wrong for each other. I mean, come on, sis, he’s our brother!”
“Stepbrother,” I mutter, swiping a knuckle underneath each eye before the tears fall. “And being with him was so…perfect. He somehow made all the bad shit disappear. I-I loved him with an intensity that I didn’t even know existed,” I admit to my sister.
“If that’s true, then not moving a few hundred miles north to be with him is sort of silly, right?” she asks.
“I can’t leave Michael, remember? You know, our little brother by blood?” I remind her.
“Listen, sis,” Bridgette says, shifting the heavy dress bags in her arms to lean against the open car door. “From what I just learned today, you’ve been ridiculously unselfish for years. Maybe it’s time for you to do something that’s a little selfish if it’s what makes you happy. And who knows, with all this shit going down, maybe a change would be good for Michael too.”
“You think I should pull Michael out of school, away from his friends to take him to a new state? That’s nuts,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “Besides, Patrick clearly doesn’t want me. He wouldn’t have left if he did, right?”
“First of all, help me out here,” she says. I get out of the car and take the bag carrying my big, puffy wedding dress before we both start speed walking toward the church. “Secondly, you don’t know what Michael wants until you talk to him. From wh
at he’s said to me, he only has, like, one friend in his stuck-up private school. I bet he would like going to a regular school with normal kids who play with Legos like him instead of yachts. And finally, Patrick blames himself for what happened.”
“What?” I ask as I reach underneath the garment bag to grab the church door and hold it open for Bridgette to go through first. “How could he blame himself for anything that happened?”
“He obviously has a hero complex,” she replies with a shrug. “The fact that he couldn’t save you has to be pretty hard on him. You need to assure him that you never expected him to save the day.”
“But he did save the day,” I remind her.
“Not yet,” Bridgette mutters.
I lead the way down the narrow hallways to the back of the church where classrooms are used as changing rooms for weddings. I knock on what I know from rehearsal is the bride’s door.
“Thank God!” Cassie says when she yanks it open. “I didn’t think you were gonna make it.”
“Sorry,” I tell her when she throws her arms around me. “My sister took her sweet ass time.” After Cassie takes a step back, I get a good look at her. “And you look stunning, by the way.”
“My mom talked me into wearing her dress after we talked,” Cassie says, smoothing her palms over the vintage, ivory lace mermaid dress. “Hope that’s okay.”
“That’s great. It fits you perfectly,” I tell her, feeling relieved because my dress holds a few private memories with Patrick, and I wasn’t all that excited to have to share it with someone else.
“We had to do a little tucking and pinning on the sides, but it worked out great,” Cassie says, turning toward the floor-length mirror to fluff up her long, blonde waves. “Are you gonna wear Bridgette’s maid of honor dress?” she asks me.
“Sure,” I tell her. “We’re about the same size, so it should fit great.”
“Aw, I was hoping to finally see Mina’s dress on her,” Bridgette says with a pout.
“It’s absolutely gorgeous,” Cassie tells my sister.
“Quick, sis, put it on just so I can see what you would’ve looked like as a bride,” Bridgette suggests.
“What? No! We’re running late, and I have to get my maid of honor dress on.”
“Cassie’s getting a free, all expenses paid wedding here. I think she can wait five more minutes so I can see your dream gown on you,” my sister demands with her hands on her hips.
“I can wait. Derek and I owe you so much for all this,” Cassie says. “Last night I thought we were saying goodbye.” She fans her face like she’s about to turn on the waterworks. “Shit, now I’m gonna fuck up my makeup. Try on the dress!” she orders, pointing her finger at the bag in my arms.
“Fine,” I relent with a huff.
Wearing the beautiful princess dress today was one of the things I had been looking forward to most. After the shitty day I’ve had, I know putting it on even for a few short minutes will boost my mood. It’s a shame no one but the girls and Patrick got to see me in it. And who the hell knows if I’ll ever wear it as intended.
Laying the bag down over the back of a chair, I unzip it and pull out the layers of satin and tulle before quickly undressing down to my underwear. Bridgette helps me pull the poufy dress on and zips me up in the back.
“There. Now are you happy?” I ask my sister as I swish the skirt layers back and forth.
“Wow, sis. You would’ve been a beautiful bride,” my sister says with her hands clenched to her chest.
“She still will one day,” Cassie says. “That dress was made for you, Mina.”
“Thanks,” I reply with a sad smile.
“Mina!” a deep rumbly voice yells suddenly, sounding equal parts frantic and angry from the hallway.
“Now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,” Bridgette says before she opens the door and shoves me out into the hallway.
“What the hell?” I ask her. I trip over the bottom of the dress before I’m able to catch my balance and pick up two handfuls of the material to hold it up off the ground. When my eyes rise, they land on the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, wearing a fancy tux as he storms down the hallway toward me. He’s so freaking sexy it hurts.
“Patrick? What…what are you doing here?” I ask.
My brave soldier, my lover and fighter abruptly stops about two feet away from me. He stares at my dress for several long heartbeats before his shoulders visibly deflate in front of me.
“I’m not gonna let you marry him,” he declares with a clenched jaw. That’s when I realize he must think that I’m the one who is about to walk down the aisle. Which is a pretty reasonable assessment since I’m currently wearing a freaking wedding dress.
“Okay. I’m not gonna marry him,” I easily agree since me marrying anyone today is a moot point.
“I’m so sorry I let you down, but I swear it will never happen again,” he promises.
“You’ve never let me down,” I assure him, my heart racing and my palms growing sweaty from holding the layers of my dress.
“Yes, I have,” he argues, rubbing his palms over his face and mussing up the front of his hair. “Last night and all the other times.”
“No, Patrick! Our lives just weren’t meant to cross until right now. That’s not your fault. You were destined to be the hero our country needed before you were supposed to be mine,” I tell him.
Letting go of my dress with one of my hands, I reach up and stroke my fingertips over the raised letters on his dog tags that I’ve worn around my neck since he left it with me. “I may have wanted you here sooner, but that was selfish of me and would’ve gone against fate.”
“Fate, huh?” he asks. Placing his hands on his hips, he looks up to the ceiling considering that idea for a silent moment. “Fate is one evil motherfucker for what it did to you,” he says. “But if I hadn’t served with Austin, I wouldn’t have been protective of his family and fought for Alyssa. And if I hadn’t fought for her, I never would have met Nate and gotten recruited into Havoc. And if it weren’t for Havoc, I never would’ve come back to this state. To you. To stop you from marrying the wrong man and make damn sure that no one ever hurts you again.”
“That does sound like fate, the evil motherfucker,” I agree with a sniffle. “But fate never threw more at me than what I could handle. He never broke me. Because I knew deep down in my heart that one day I would be free of him, and I am, thanks to you.”
“I guess whoever wrote our love story had a fucked-up plan for us after all,” he says with a dimpled grin.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I can’t leave you, Mina,” Patrick tells me simply.
“But I have to stay here, and you’ve got the opportunity of a lifetime waiting at home for you,” I remind him.
“Being with you is an opportunity of a lifetime,” he argues, making me want to jump on top of him, ride him down to the floor and kiss him silly. Maybe, just maybe, fate has figured out a way for us to actually be together.
“What if I wanted to go back with you?” I ask. “If Michael’s willing to leave…”
“God, yes,” Patrick says, closing the distance between us and cupping the side of my face gently in his warm palm. "We’ll do anything you want, you gorgeous woman. But the next time I see you in this dress it better be with me waiting for you at the altar.”
“Deal,” I tell him with a smile. “Now hurry up and kiss me. We’re holding up a wedding.”
“What?” he asks with a wrinkled forehead.
“Cassie and Derek are getting married tonight.”
“Hold on. Derek and who?” Patrick asks in confusion.
“My best friend Cassie has been seeing Derek. It’s a long story but they said they’re in love and didn’t want all the fancy arrangements we’d made to go to waste,” I explain.
“So then why are you wearing your dress?” he asks, glancing down at the gown he thoroughly scandalized me in days ago.
“You’re welcom
e!” my sister calls out from the open doorway where she and Cassie are bound to have overhead everything that was just said.
“That’s why you left my ass back at the house?” Patrick asks Bridgette.
“You left him?” I exclaim. “You told me he was gone!”
“I may have fudged a few things, including inviting Patrick to the wedding through his father’s Facebook account, but everything worked out perfectly,” she says with a grin while clapping her hands together. “Now you two have made up, and it was so freaking sweet!”
“Wow,” Patrick mutters followed by a chuckle.
“Welcome to the family,” I tell him.
“It’s good to finally be home,” he replies with a smile that I can’t return because his lips are finally brushing over mine. His kiss is confident and passionate as my arms wind around his neck and his hands encircle my waist, pulling me closer. And I know that every stroke of his tongue is a promise of really good things to come.
I can’t freaking wait!
Epilogue
Mina
Almost one year later…
“Mina!” Alyssa calls out for me from downstairs. “Can you come down here?”
“Just a second!” I yell back to her as I finish cleaning the last corner of the bathroom tiles, Patrick’s dog tags jangling against my chest with the forceful motions of the sudsy scrub brush in my hand.
Finally finished, I sit back on my knees to survey my work. The floor is nearly glistening it’s so clean, and, yeah, my biceps are aching, and my knees are probably bruised, but it’s an amazing feeling to actually accomplish something worthwhile.
Using the edge of the cabinet to pull my tired body up off the floor, I quickly wash my hands in the sink and grab some tissues to mop up the sweat on my forehead before heading down the stairs. The kitchen has sort of been turned into our headquarters until we get more furniture.
“Hi, ladies. What’s up?” I greet the group of Havoc girls, who are also taking a break, before making my way to the fridge.
“Damn, girl,” Abby says when she takes in my appearance, my dark hair falling from my topknot and the grunge and dust on my white tee and black yoga pants. “No offense, Mina, but you’re a hot mess.”
