by Scott, Kylie
“Yeah. What’s in them?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I tease. “You look pretty damn handsome in that suit.”
It’s an understatement. The man is drool worthy. With the old Thom’s precise, slicked-down hairdo, tepid manner, and slumped shoulders gone, he stands out as the strong, virile man he’s been all along. I can’t help but stare. Without a doubt, he makes my heart beat double time.
“What am I doing here, Betty?” he asks, stepping closer. “Are you all right? Is everything okay?”
“Lock the door, please.”
He does as asked.
“So…my sources reported you looked somewhat tense standing down there among our guests.”
“Your sources, huh? I’m fine.” He sighs. “Actually, I’m more than fine, I’m great. About to marry the love of my life. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
I just wait.
A groan. “Maybe I’m a little uptight about not being able to properly monitor all of the people coming and going, but it’s okay. I’ll live with it.”
“Repeat after me. This is our wedding, not a high-threat zone.”
“I know, I know.” His hands slide over my bare shoulders. The pads of his fingers warm and just a little rough. “It’s all good. Really.”
“Tell the truth. You’ve got the zoo casing the place, don’t you?”
He scoffs. “No.”
“Yes, you do. You big fibber.”
“They’ve been trained to monitor their surroundings. I didn’t say a word, I swear.”
“You didn’t need to.” My fingers trail lightly over the lapels of his suit jacket, his crisp white shirt. “I’m glad your friends are here for you today. And I know you think I don’t take security seriously enough, but I do. I get it. I want us both to live a long, healthy life together. It’s good that they’re keeping an eye on things. Makes me feel safer. Now, however, you need to relax and enjoy. That’s an order.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My hands glide lower, over his belt buckle and onto the fly of his black slacks. Down the zip goes and in my fingers slip.
“Babe.” He grins. “Do we have time for this?”
“It’s important. We’re making time for it. The pre-wedding blow job is a tradition. You’ve never heard of it?”
“Oh, now that you mention it, that does sound like an important institution that should be diligently honored,” he says, cock hardening in my grip.
“Because, let’s be realistic, our wedding night is going to consist of hours of you painstakingly removing bobby pins from my hair until we both collapse in exhaustion.”
“There seems to be a lot of thought behind this tradition. I’m at your command.”
“Are you now? Widen your stance a little, please.”
He’s all velvet skin and heat. And the scent of him and his cologne, it gets me so high.
Carefully, I arrange the skirt of my dress and get to my knees. One hand around the thick length of him, guiding him into my waiting lips. Much swearing from him. Some of it in foreign languages.
I tighten my lips around him, sliding them up and down his length, stopping to give him the amount of suction he loves. Meanwhile, my other hand plays inside his pants, toying with his balls. I suck and lick and take him deep, loving him with my mouth. Letting him know we’re all good. The salty taste of his precum hits my tongue, and oh God, pleasuring him pleases me too. I’m already wet and ready to go. But this is about him.
However, when his dick is truly swollen and rigid, lined with veins, he stops me.
“You come with me,” he breathes, hands on my arms, lifting me to my feet. “Be on top. That way we won’t crush your dress too bad.”
“What about your suit?”
“Fuck my suit.” He slips out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. Then he lies down on the floor at my feet. A slight sheen of sweat covers his forehead. “C’mon.”
My dress was not exactly designed for this, but what the hell. Straddling his body, I sink down on his hard cock. Lucky the skirt of my gown is floor length. No one need ever know about the carpet burn I’m about to get on my knees.
A small sigh slips out of me. “Damn, that feels good.”
“Ride me,” he commands.
“We have to be fast. All of those people downstairs…”
He laughs. “You’re the one on top. What are you waiting for?”
I set my hands on his chest, my hips rising and falling, finding the right rhythm. Even grinding against him every so often. It’s all so good. The way he stretches me just so. The feel of him heavy and hard inside of me. Everything about this is perfect. I love him so much it hurts. But if my complicated updo actually manages to come out of this intact, I’m going to owe the hairstylist extra. Because soon enough, I’m riding Thom for all I’m worth.
Like mine, his breath comes in harsh pants. “That’s my girl.”
“Yeah.”
“Always feels so damn good.”
Hands squeeze my thighs, beneath my dress, as he silently urges me onward. Harder, faster, I bounce up and down on his cock. His hips rise and fall in sharp little movements, pushing his dick into me deeper. The warmth spreads and builds and finally burns in the sweetest way possible. My lungs working hard, my heart close to bursting. Until finally it hits. And it’s one hell of an orgasm, racing through me, taking me over. My pussy squeezes him tight, greedy to keep him forever.
“Babe,” he moans beneath me, coming hard too.
And I’m conscious just enough to stop me from face planting against his white button-down. Thank God. No one would believe he had a shirt full of makeup by accident. Jen must be suspicious as all hell already. Not that it’s illegal to screw your betrothed before the ceremony. But we’ve definitely thrown the old don’t-see-the-bride-before-the-ceremony thing right out the window. Oh well.
Thom’s smile is dazzling and wide. “God, I love you.”
“See,” I say, taking a deep breath and trying to set myself to rights. “You’re all relaxed and happy now, aren’t you?”
“Sure am.”
“This is what I keep telling you. I do know best. When are you going to believe it?”
“I believe it now.”
“Well, about time.”
“Pretty sure you just fucked good sense into me.”
“Nuh.” I grin. “You already had good sense. You’re a smart guy. You’re marrying me, aren’t you?”
“Kiss me,” he demands, raising his head.
I do as asked. It’s both a duty and pleasure. Something I intend to do for the rest of my natural life and beyond, if I can manage. “I better go fix my makeup. Then how about I see you downstairs?”
“You’re on.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thoughts on marriage ceremonies. Here we go. So, it’s really weird to actually be walking into your own party without having welcomed anyone. Plus, there’s the everyone staring and smiling at you part. Like you’ve just done something really wondrous such as save the world to deserve this level of attention. When all you’ve really done is spent a bomb on a dress and heels. Normally, throwing money to the wind in this way on stuff you’d probably never wear again would earn you some small amount of censure. But when you’re a bride, it’s all fine.
None of this matters, however, in the face of Thom’s love-filled gaze and radiant smile. The blow job and cowgirl sure have loosened him up. He actually seems to be enjoying himself now. Can’t help but feel that we’re getting off to matrimony on the right foot.
Among those assembled, Crow smiles, Fox smirks, and Bear grins. My family and friends all seem pretty much generally delighted too. It’s lovely. But my gaze keeps returning to Thom, because he’s my everything. He reaches out as I move to the end of the aisle, his big warm hand gently holding mine. This is it. We’re really doing this.
“You okay?” whispers Thom, leaning closer.
I nod. “Yes.”
“
No second thoughts?”
“Hell no.”
We both turn to face the lady celebrant, who stands tall and calm in her nice neat suit. She opens her mouth to speak—and that’s when it happens.
The horrible yet familiar bang of a gun going off.
People scream, the crowd scattering or falling to their knees.
A waitress stands on the other side of the deck, behind the wedding guests and back near the house. In her hands is a pistol, pointed straight at me. From this distance, all I can see is that she’s a brunette with a puffy face, but something about her feels all too familiar.
“Scorpion,” shouts Bear, reaching beneath his coat.
Her gun swings toward him, and he hits the ground ahead of her volley of shots. There’s no time to check if he’s okay. There’s no time for anything. And it’s so loud. The moment seems so fast yet so slow. I’d forgotten what this is like. But there’s a fucking good reason my dress has pockets. A reason beyond lipstick and Kleenex and all the other necessities.
I meant it when I told Thom I was serious about security. Both his and mine.
Scorpion turns back to me, hurriedly firing off another shot. And I swear the bullet is so close, I can feel it fly past. Close, but not close enough.
Now someone else is firing at Scorpion, forcing her to take cover behind the nearby bar. My ears are ringing from all the noise, people fighting to get back inside the house. To escape the violence and confusion.
So much for our beautiful wedding.
With everyone clearing out or keeping low, my line of sight is clear. I draw my gun and aim, hands steady. Another thing practice has improved. The small pistol is one I’ve taken to the shooting range often. My grip is good.
Meanwhile, Scorpion is so busy worrying about Crow and Fox, she doesn’t see me. Doesn’t think I’m a danger to her. Not yet. And the next time she appears above the top of the bar to return fire, I shoot.
Red splatters onto the sliding glass door behind her and her body tumbles back. Fox just turns to me and nods. Crow carefully approaches Scorpion’s position, bending down to check the body. But she’s dead. You’d have to be pretty damn lucky to take a hit to the head and live.
“Okay. Wow. That was unexpected.” I relax my shoulders and lower the gun. “Thom?”
His body is sprawled on the deck at my feet.
My heart stops. I swear it. Except then he blinks.
Oh, thank God, still alive. “Thom!” I gasp.
“Call an ambulance!” someone yells.
On my knees beside him, I push back his coat. There’s so much blood soaking into the fine cotton of his shirt, but it’s not in the region of his heart or lungs. At least, it seems a bit lower and to the side. I tug up his shirt, trying to get a clear look at the wound.
The bullet hit him in the back on an angle and came out just below his ribs. I use my big stupid flouncy skirt to apply pressure to the entry and exit wounds, to try to slow the bleeding. All I can see and smell is his blood, spreading out through the white cotton frighteningly fast. This is horrible.
Thom’s face is pale, his gaze pissed. “Babe. Hey. You okay?”
“Yes, and so are you.”
“Really? ’Cause it feels a shitload like I just got shot.”
“How can you make jokes?” My throat tightens, but I am not going to cry.
“I’m still alive. Why not make jokes?”
“Scorpion’s dead.” Fox stands nearby, gun in hand. “Seems she was working alone.”
“No civvies were hit, but Betty, there’s blood all over your gown,” says Crow. “Are you sure you weren’t clipped?”
I shake my head. “It’s Thom’s, not mine. Where’s the ambulance?”
“On its way,” reports Bear. “Sorry she got past us.”
“Not your fault. I told you I didn’t want to intimidate our wedding guests with full surveillance and security.” Thom winces in pain. “Well, this sucks.”
“Surprisingly good shooting, Betty,” says Fox. At least none of the zoo seem to be overly impressed or alarmed by Thom’s wound. There’s a positive. “I thought she had you there for a minute. Another second and you might have been bleeding dramatically all over the floor alongside your fiancé. What a wedding that would be.”
“She had you in her sights too?” Thom asks me through gritted teeth. “I thought it was just me she was after.”
“It doesn’t matter. She didn’t hit me,” I say. “It’s over.”
Thom does not look appeased.
“Guess she didn’t like either of you very much to take on a suicide mission like this.” Fox keeps perusing the crowd, gun at the ready. “She had to know we’d all be here.”
“Yeah, but she also knew she was dead anyway. It was only a matter of time before she’d slip up and we’d get payback for Helene. She probably felt she had nothing to lose,” says Bear. “Fox, you got this under control?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. I’m going to go check the perimeter. Keep the pressure on him, Betty, and try not to worry. I know it looks bad, but he’ll be fine.” Bear strides away without waiting for a reply.
For a moment, no one talks. Thom just lies there bleeding, brows drawn tight. While I try to calm my breath and recover from what feels dangerously like a near heart attack.
“This is the problem with going civilian,” says Fox. “Expecting a normal life can be just as hazardous to your health. Thinking all your old enemies have forgotten you.”
“You’re not helping,” I say, voice tight.
“Fox is right. This should never have happened,” says Thom. “If it hadn’t been Scorpion it could’ve been any number of other skeletons from my closet. Me being here put a target on your back. I’m sorry, babe.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.”
“You just had to kill someone again. Because of me.”
“Yeah, but she needed killing.”
He smiles at that, or maybe he’s just wincing in pain. “Can’t argue with that.”
I try to smile back, but it doesn’t really work. My hands are shaking, but I do as told and keep up the pressure. The bleeding seems to have slowed. At least, I hope so. “Anyway, she’s dead now so it’s over. We can go on with our lives.”
He’s looking really pale now. Scarily so. Nothing from Thom. Then a whisper. “I love you.”
“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” I yell.
Nearby, Crow is busy yelling things at our guests. Things like everything is all right, stay back please, and clear a path for the emergency medical personnel. Jen does likewise while giving me worried looks.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” I say again. But no one answers.
Hospital coffee is pretty much the worst. This is a fact. So is waiting for Thom to come out of surgery. I sit in the waiting room in my bloodstained wedding gown, watching the hours slip by on the wall clock. Jen and Crow fetched some food for us all a while back. But I’m not hungry. Mom and Dad sit on either side of me, trying to be supportive. Not that there’s much you can say. Fox already took them aside, gave them the secret government business line. So far it’s worked. They haven’t asked a single question about who’d want to shoot up our wedding.
I rode in the ambulance with Thom, though once we got into the ER they whisked him away into an operating room. Nothing I said made any difference. I couldn’t stay with him. Then we started waiting. None of the doctors or nurses will tell me a thing. At some stage, Bear and Fox disappeared. Who knows what they’re doing? You can’t really blame them. It’s not like sitting here is accomplishing anything.
When the police arrived at the hospital to get a statement from me, Crow and a woman in a slick gray suit dealt with them. Someone similar is no doubt at the house, dealing with any inconvenient law enforcement types there. The organization is obviously used to dealing with difficult situations. Because the detectives here never even got the chance to ask me any questions. Jen took this as a matte
r of course. But Mom and Dad were a little weirded out. Generally, when someone opens fire at a wedding and shoots the groom, you’d assume there’s going to be a thorough police investigation. That statements would be taken from everyone in attendance. Oh well. Thom can figure out what to tell them later. He’s good at that stuff.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” says Mom, squeezing my hand.
I still have blood beneath my nails. Thom’s blood. Even after washing my hands until the skin was wrinkled, it’s still there. It’s dried to that horrible dark reddish-brown color. Visible even beneath my soft pink French polish. So much for the happiest day of my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less that we’re not legally bound or that the party got interrupted. I don’t even care that we never got to use the flower cannon or eat the cake. I just want to see him. To know that he’s okay. Then I’ll be able to breathe properly again.
“Try not to worry, honey,” Dad joins in. “He’s being given the best care possible. Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”
“No. Thanks.” They mean well. But five hours. Five fucking hours. Why would it take this long? Bear said he would be fine. He said so.
Finally, a doctor walks in wearing blue scrubs. “Elizabeth?”
“Yes?” I’m already on my feet and moving toward her. “Where is Thom? Can I see him?”
Only her face remains carefully blank, her gaze full of a gentle kind of sorrow. Professional through and through. She’s done this many times before. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.”
“There were complications—”
And suddenly Crow’s holding me up, his arms wrapped tight around me. He’s the only thing keeping me off the ground, in fact. “Thom isn’t dead. He can’t be. We’re getting married.”
“I’m so sorry,” the doctor repeats. Like it makes a difference.
Everything I love is dead.
“Open up,” yells Jen from the other side of the bathroom door. “I know you’re in there.”
With a groan I get to my feet and flip the lock. “Is something wrong downstairs?”
