by Violet Blaze
“I'm not freaking out,” I say as I let the basis of a fresh story idea swirl around inside my head, “because I know what I want. If you can figure that out, well, then everything else is just small fucking potatoes.”
“You're getting married,” Rayna repeats as she grabs a brush and turns around to start edging the baseboards near the sliding glass door, “and here I am still getting used to you not being our token virgin anymore.”
“Loren is the token virgin now,” I joke and Otto laughs.
“Maybe you could get him one of those sexy biker chicks from the clubhouse? Get her to take him upstairs to one of those private rooms?”
“You know,” I say as Loren rolls his eyes and starts helping with the furniture, “if I asked, one of them would probably do it. Let me know if you want an Omega Wolf girl for your first time.”
“Fuck you,” Loren says, “fuck all of you.” But at least he's smiling a little this time.
“So,” Aletha starts as she comes back into the living room and pauses, staring at an old art print of a motorcycle I made when I was a freshman, “you're going to live here, marry one of the sexiest men I've ever seen in my life, and write romance novels. Did I get that right?”
“You got it,” I say as I turn around and dip in for some more paint.
“Now,” Rayna says, leaning in and making a nice perfect line without any painter's tape. She's got a seriously steady hand. If she were at all motivated, she could probably become a surgeon or something. “Since you're having a crappy courthouse wedding during school hours—because you know, you're a badass and beat the shit of that bitch Nevaeh Burkhardt—can we at least throw you, like, a post-wedding bachelorette party on Tuesday or something? Besides, you decided to get all caught and shit by your parents and our sex shop visit got cancelled yesterday. So. Tuesday, sex shop and then party night. You owe us that at least.”
I roll my eyes, but when I turn around, everyone's staring at me.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I say, and Otto makes a stupid fist pump, “but nothing too serious, alright? And just us. Besides Saint and the Rentz-McBrides, you guys are the only people I like hanging out with anyway.”
“Done,” Rayna says as Loren and Aletha each pick up another box and I get back into my panting.
Hopefully I won't regret this come Tuesday. But damn, my friends can be so fucking persuasive.
I sit outside on the courthouse steps and wish I smoked, just so I could hold something in my hands and look busy, the way Royal does right now.
“Weren't we just bloody here?” he asks his wife and she smiles broadly, giving him a coy sort of a look. I hear from Dober that before their courthouse ceremony, they sneaked around the side of the building and fucked against the wall. Sounds fairly typical.
I glance away and almost smile.
For the first time in my life, I actually understand why someone might want to do that.
“So,” Royal says, still talking to his wife, “counselor, judge, and then what?”
“Then marriage license and quickie ceremony, just like ours,” she says as she turns and stares out at the horizon, where the sharp line of the sky meets the sea. “If we lived in a big city, it'd probably take a lot longer, but you know, I know Judge Franco personally and I got the appointments made first thing this morning. And in Trinidad, there's never a fucking wait—not even when the seabirds show up in flocks.”
I glance mildly in her direction when she starts talking about seabirds—the rich sacks of shit that vacation here a month or two out of the year. None of the locals like them much at all, including me. Fortunately enough for them, they seem to have a well of self-preservation buried under all that nouveau riche and they seem to know to stay away from me in public.
Lucky them.
“Frankly, I should probably cut your balls off,” Lyric says as she turns around to stare at me. “I did warn you, after all.”
“So you did,” I say mildly as I lean back on the steps and rest my palms on the cement. “Yet here we are.”
“You really love Serenity?” she asks me, sounding almost anxious about this whole thing, as if it were her wedding all over again.
I smile sharply.
“I've loved her for years,” I say, which is something that's true, but that I've only just now realized. That day two years ago when the clouds broke and I felt the first ray of sunshine on my face since that night in my grandparents' house, I knew. And I've been running from that for a long time; I'm not running anymore.
“Trust me, Pint-Size,” Royal says, using his wife's nickname, “he loves her. I've hardly even seen him look at a woman, let alone shag one. I was starting to think you'd gone celibate.”
“I was celibate,” I tell him, standing up and brushing the dirt and gravel from my black jeans. A tux or a suit might be appropriate for some people, but if you're in the MC, it's expected you'll get married while flying colors. My cut is shrugged over a crisp white t-shirt, the leather as shiny and polished as my boots. “For six years. I've only had sex twice before Serenity.”
“Bleeding hell,” Royal curses and I really do smile then. “Goddamn, you're one strange bastard, you know that, right?”
“And you're scared shitless of me. I suppose that makes it all worth it, doesn't it?”
I head up the steps and inside to wait in the lobby, my two witnesses trailing behind me.
“I've got fucking déjà vu up the arse,” Royal mumbles as he stands behind me and Lyric proceeds to greet all the clerks behind the long desk in the front of the building.
“Did your bride have to bring her mum to the courthouse?” I say, imitating his accent with a sharp snap of my tongue. He gives me a look and raises one dark brow.
“No, I suppose she didn't, although her mum did call me an unwashed immigrant at the dinner table last night, so I can't say I'm completely free and clear.”
I almost smile at that, but now that I'm standing in here, I feel antsy, like I want to pace. It bothers me to no end that Serenity and I have to scrape and bow at every corner to get permission to be in love. Logistically, I understand all of the processes and why they're there, but this thing between Serenity and me, it doesn't follow any law or logic.
I run my fingers through my hair and Royal chuckles.
“So you're human yet, are you, mate?”
“She made me human, Royal,” I tell him and he gets sober in an instant. “It's her, just her. She can keep all of me in check. I'm handing her the reigns.” I smile at him and he gets the chills, as usual. The funny thing is, I don't really think I would ever kill him, not unless he hurt Serenity. So really, he needn't be so scared of me. But I'm not going to tell him that. “From now on, if you want something from me, you'll have to get my wife's permission.”
“And how is that any different from any of the other old ladies?” he asks with a slight grin. “Dober thinks he's got his woman in check, but really, it's the other bloody way around.”
I almost smile, but then the door at the end of the hall opens and my attention is riveted on Serenity and Fauna.
As soon as her eyes land on me, Serenity smiles, lighting up that perfect face, bringing my attention to her red-glossed lips. Never in my life have I cared about a woman's mouth and yet, I feel like if I were prone to worship of any kind, I would pray to Serenity's lips.
Last night, two of her friends spent the night in my living room, painting and watching a movie. I joined them and it was certainly … interesting. Mostly, I watched Serenity's face, studied her expressions, felt the sensations of her moods wash over me. We slept on the couch and this morning, her friends helped her get ready while she banished me to the bedroom.
All of this, it's as strange and new for me as it is for her. At the very least, I can share in the experience. Today, even my monster seems to be quiet although I can feel him deep down, pacing and waiting for … the wedding night. Which, I suppose, should be important. To me though, Serenity and I made our connection in that d
orm room the night Fauna was shot. That was when this deal was sealed in the devil's blood. There was no coming back from that moment.
I study Serenity in her red dress, as bright and brilliant as her lips and the streak of color in her hair, as defiant to the sanctity and the idea of marriage as her spirit. My mouth twists into a full smile, a real one.
“Saint,” she says as Fauna slams a piece of paper down on the counter and turns her glare on me. There's nothing but wild hatred there, pure and simple. I don't even know how to begin to address it.
“Judge signed off. Counselor signed off. When can I leave?”
I stare at Fauna and the smile slides off my face. She's wearing jeans and a t-shirt, much like she would if she were back at the compound. From the way her eyes are narrowed and her lips are pursed, she looks like she's about to take off for a funeral. We had quite a few of those after last month's bullshit with the cartel, so I've seen this look before. It's a dead match.
“You need to be present to get the license and then during the ceremony with the county clerk,” Lyric explains cautiously. “It'll take all of fifteen minutes from start to finish.”
“Fifteen minutes to marry my daughter to a monster,” Fauna breathes, looking white in the face. “Never have I hated this fucking life like I do right now.”
“Mom, please,” Serenity begs, taking her mother's upper arm in her hand and trying to get her attention. “This is not the end of the world. I want to be with Saint. He's not holding a gun to my head. And yeah, I think this whole marriage thing is bullshit”—she whispers this part—“but we do what we have to do to make things right. This doesn't really change a thing; Saint and I were going to be together anyway. I mean, I didn't expect to move in with him until after I graduated, but—”
“Right,” Fauna snaps, closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them to glare at me. I stare right back at her, but even though I feel like I might enjoy snapping her fucking neck in that moment, I don't make any move to retaliate—not yet. For now, I just stare at the woman and smile when she shivers. “Just another young club wife—”
Serenity cuts her off with a hiss.
“I am not just another young club wife. I will ride my own bike and make my own decisions. I've spent my whole life writing stories in the margins of my schoolwork, penning fantasies in my notebooks, typing out chapters on my computer. That is what I want to do, Mom. So stop acting like I'm giving up my dream for this; I have a plan.”
“Can we please just get this over with? I have a headache.”
Lyric and Royal exchange glances and then wave over one of the clerks to help us. As the woman makes her way to us, I step close to my bride-to-be's mother and lean down to whisper in her ear.
“For now, I'll let this go because Serenity is your daughter. In a few minutes, she'll be my wife. I'll expect you to show her the respect deserving of an officer's spouse.” My voice comes out in a cold ribbon, chilling the air between us.
I stand up straight and turn away before Fauna can respond. Really, she's lucky that I don't subscribe to club bullshit. For disrespecting an officer the way she disrespects me, I could rightfully kick the shit out of her husband. According to club law, he's responsible for whatever his wife says. But really, all that matters is that she treats her daughter with dignity and respect.
I turn around to face Serenity, taking her hand in mine, rubbing my tattooed thumb across her bare knuckles.
“The marriage plot is stupid and overused and so dead in the water,” Serenity says quietly as she glances up at me, her blonde hair straight and shiny around her face. “But I love you and so if this smoothes the speed bumps away and lets us be together, I'm happy for it.”
“If you're happy,” I tell her, pulling her close, leaning down to kiss the glossy redness of that mouth, “then I am happy.”
And with the sheet of ice inside my chest melting away to nothing, I can feel my heart pulsing and thrumming beneath my rib cage, and I know for certain that I actually mean that.
After ring shopping yesterday, I stopped by the shop and took a look at Serenity's bike. It really is trashed, much worse than I'd expected. It'll take me time to fix it. In the meantime, I bought a new ride from the club's onsite dealer, this gorgeous black and chrome suspension bike that'll work well for any long road trips. I don't know how much Serenity cares to travel, but if she wants to get out of this town and see the country, I'll take her wherever she wants to go.
“For the love of fucking Christ,” Fauna swears when she gets outside and sees three bikes parked next to each other: Royal's, mine, and Serenity's. She casts a look back at me and whatever she sees in my face must tell her how goddamn serious I am about what I said. Respect. I will go out of my way to make sure Serenity has it. “This is … I need to get out of here.”
Fauna breezes down the steps without a single smile, congratulations, or otherwise for her daughter. Inside, I feel the slightest stirrings of rage, but then I glance over at Serenity, the wind plastering the decadent red fabric of her dress against her body, and it fades away. She reaches down and takes my hand.
“Saint,” she says softly, glancing over at me, “you still want to do this?”
“I do,” I say, because if riding her own bike can light Serenity's face up like that, why would I even want to say no? Certainly, it's customary for an old lady to ride on the back of her husband's bike after a wedding, but Serenity and I, we're anything but customary.
I move down the cement steps and unlock one of the saddlebags, lifting the hatch and grabbing a bag with Serenity's jeans and boots and a t-shirt in it. Those high heels she's wearing on her feet … as much as I admit to being fucking intrigued by them, these are more practical.
“Change your clothes,” I tell her as Royal and Lyric stand awkwardly off to the side and watch us, “and then just tell me where you want to go.”
Serenity takes the bag from me, a small ring glinting from her left hand. I have one on my own, a simple silver band, similar to hers but without the sapphire setting. Truth be told, I never thought I'd be in this situation, but now that I am, it's … exhilarating, like the chase but stronger, more powerful, like the undertow off the coast—impossible to fight against.
“Be right back,” Serenity whispers, and I notice her hands are trembling slightly with excitement. I smile at that, watching as my … wife runs back up the steps and inside to change in the bathroom.
“Holy fucking hell,” Royal curses stepping over to me and giving me a one-armed hug that I don't bother to return. I just stare at him as he steps back and grins at me. “To be honest, I'd have been less shocked if you'd had a litter of kittens on the courthouse steps. Good god, Saint. Be good to that girl or my old lady will probably kick your arse and I'll be obligated to help.”
“I—”
Royal cuts me off with a wave of his ringed hand and I narrow my eyes on him.
“Yeah, yeah, I'd kill bloody god to protect her,” he says with a snort, “I hear ya, Saint.”
“Congratulations,” Lyric says, stepping up to me and stretching to her tiptoes to give me a kiss on the cheek. I give her a look of cold hell, but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care. My mouth twitches slightly. “Now, if I recall our wedding day correctly—and I imagine that I should considering it was just over a month ago—all I wanted was for people to leave us the hell alone so we could consummate the damn thing.”
“Ah, I see,” Royal says, still grinning, always fucking grinning, as he grabs his old lady by the hips and pulls her close, “we're the interlopers here, are we?”
“I think we are,” she says, wrinkling up her nose and smiling as Royal drops his mouth to hers, kisses her in a way I didn't even remotely understand until Serenity. I may not have much empathy, but at least from a logical standpoint, I get it. “Alright, let's get the hell out of here and you can pretend you didn't see all of this,” she waves her hand at Serenity's bike, “and we can pretend there aren't serious gaps of gender equa
lity in the one-percenter life, okay?”
“Cheeky little twat,” Royal growls as his wife moves over to his bike and grabs her helmet up in one hand. He pauses to glance over his shoulder as Serenity emerges from the courthouse, beautiful and wild and feral in a pair of dark jeans, a clingy t-shirt, boots and a leather motorcycle jacket zipped to the chin. “Good luck tonight,” Royal says with yet another stupid grin, “looks like you're gonna need it.” He smacks me in the chest and joins his old lady on his bike, revving the engine with a roar and disappearing down the street, leaving my new wife and me … in relative peace.
“Should we …” she starts and I lift my brows, cocking my head to the side to study her as she comes to stand in front of me. We just got married and yet we haven't even kissed yet. Seems such a shame with those shiny red lips of hers parted in excitement. “I mean, do you think we need to …”
“Consummate our marriage?” I ask and Serenity rolls her eyes.
“I wasn't going to say that, but yeah. Wow. How medieval.” She lifts her blue eyes to the sky and her full mouth curves up in a smile. “Maybe that's just what I feel like doing?” She drops her gaze to my face. “I think I just like fucking you, Saint.”
“What a lady I've married,” I purr, stepping up to her, feeling a surge of affection, as shocking and disturbingly unfamiliar as it is intense. My monster rumbles and growls from deep down, but the touch of Serenity's fingers as they curve around the bare skin of my arms pushes back any urges I might have. “So tell me,” I start, burying my fingers in her hair, putting our foreheads together with a small sigh, “where are we going then?”
“The beach,” Serenity says firmly, like this is something she's already thought about. “The first place I want to go, is to the beach.”
“So the beach it is,” I whisper and then I take the hot red swell of her mouth as my own, pushing my tongue between her lips, tasting the sweetness of her breath, feeling her heart hammering against my chest, feeling my own long-lost heart murmur in response.
