Lady Sings the Blues

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  “Your first kid datin’.” Tommy cuts me off.

  “Pregnancy scares.” Chaos adds.

  “Shotgun weddings.” Sneak finally finishes, to the amusement of everybody but me.

  “Piss off.” I squeeze Elise’s hand a bit tighter. “But yeah, even through all that shit, Elise, you and I are together, we’ll deal. Always.”

  She blinks at me a few times, laughter and tears together before she starts. “I don’t even know where to begin. Everything you said is true. I put you through the wringer, even when I didn’t mean to. I did it. But you haven’t always made things easy for me either, Beau Hollister.”

  Elise is beautiful whether she’s smilin’ or cryin’ like she is now. She wouldn’t agree. But where most women’s skin turns splotchy, hers blushes. The way she scrunches her nose and bites her lip, one of the cutest ways I’ve seen a woman cry.

  With tears streamin’ down her cheeks, squeezin’ the stems of her bouquet of daisies until they start to bend, she swallows and gulps back some air, and then swipes her thumb under her eyes before continuing.

  “But none of that matters anymore,” she says. “None of it. Because my dad’s gone. My mom stopped talking to me years ago, but here we are, getting married. And in seven months we’re having a baby. You gave me you, Beau. And in doing so, you gave me a family. In every sense of the word. So if having a family means kids dating, pregnancy scares or shotgun weddings, so long as I got your hand to hold while dealing with it…” she stops then whispers with a shuddered breath, “I love you Beau.”

  No one’s laughing now.

  Carver clears his throat. “Ah… yeah. Boss, how ‘bout you recite some vows, brother?”

  I nod and repeat his words.

  “I, Beau Hollister, promise to love you, Elise Manning, for the rest of my life. Takin’ in account what it means to be a good husband—to be a friend, a lover, a provider, a protector—to be a true partner even if bein’ that partner comes as a bossy caveman. We’ll always reach where we gotta be.”

  Carver turns his head to look at my woman. “Good. Now how ‘bout you Elise? Ready for some vows?”

  “God yes.”

  Can’t help the smile spreadin’ ridiculously wide across my face. And no, my eyes aren’t waterin’. I’m a man. Our eyes don’t water, even for something like marryin’ the love of my life. I know I look like an idiot, but my woman, she’s ready for her vows. She wants to be mine. Means a lot. No, means the world.

  She then repeats his words, with some adjustments of her own. “I, Elise Manning, promise to love you, Beau Hollister, for the rest of my life. Taking in account what it means to be a good wife—to be a friend, a lover, a provider, a protector however that comes about and whatever that means to us within the construct of our marriage—to be a true partner even in the face of you being a bossy caveman. We’ll always reach where we gotta be.”

  “Got a ring?” Carver asks me.

  I turn to Tommy who hands off the gold bands to me, then take my woman’s left hand. As I slip hers onto her finger, I say the words. “This ring symbolizes what you mean to me darlin’. So with this ring, I thee wed.”

  Elise takes the second ring from my hand, then as she slides it over the knuckle on my left ring finger, she gives it to me. “This ring symbolizes what you mean to me, babe. So with this ring, I thee wed.”

  “Love hearin’ that.” Carver addresses the guests. “So now, with the power granted me by the Church of Divine Waters, I’m proud to be the one to pronounce you husband and wife. Beau, brother… Kiss your bride.”

  He don’t have to tell me twice.

  Throwing my arms around her shoulders and her waist, I haul her in close and kiss the shit out of my wife. Hard. Wet. Deep. And long, until the congratulatory catcalls turn pornographic.

  She’s breathin’ heavily by the time I let her go.

  We turn around to face all our friends as Carver announces, “Brothers, ladies, let me introduce to you Beau and Elise Hollister.”

  I practically drag her back down the aisle behind me, this time to ruckus clapping and boisterous laughter from my brothers, and call over my shoulder, “Go ahead and start the party. Gotta fuck my wife.”

  Once we’re back in our bedroom, she glares at me, hands on her hips. “I should be mad at you Beau Hollister, for telling all our wedding guests you’re going to fuck me,” she says before she lets loose that smile I fell in love with. “But I’m just too damn happy to care at the moment. So you got lucky, mister.”

  “Not as lucky as I’m about to get, Elise Hollister, so get over here and kiss your husband.”

  “I don’t want to ruin my hair. Undo your pants and sit on the bed.”

  Fuck, we’ll go with that. So I unbutton, unzip and tug my pants down to my hips as she hikes her dress up to around her hips and shimmies out of her sexy, lacey thong. I’m clearly already hard as a fuckin’ rock and judging by the way she mounts my lap, straddling my thighs and glides herself down my erection, she’s more than ready herself.

  We don’t move right away, just stare into each other’s eyes. I breathe her in, breathe in the early smell of sex mixed with her perfume, and watch her chest heave up and down as she unbuttons the vest of her dress. Those gorgeous, voluptuous tits spill out just begging for my mouth.

  And that’s when we begin to move.

  Her hands around my neck, Elise’s head falls back as I grip her hips, grindin’ her heat against my straining cock. When we’ve found our rhythm, I move one hand from her hip to push down against her pubic bone as I suck hard on her nipple.

  The noise she makes—fuck. It becomes a breathy cry of my name. “Beau.” But I’m not ready to let her have it yet. There’s still more I want to do to her before I’m ready to share her and the day with our guests.

  Gone from the festivities for almost an hour and a half, we eventually stroll back into the main common from our room, arms linked, and her head resting on my shoulder while I take most of her body weight. And her hair, well, let’s just say slightly worse for wear.

  My brothers pat me on the back while Elise gets a lot of cheek skims.

  Once we arrive, the party really begins. Food and drinks all around. The hog roast to end all hog roasts. I eat like a man who fucked hard and needs to refuel. Elise picks delicately at hers, dreamily and careful not to drip sauce on her dress. Though, it’s leather so it’ll wipe right off.

  As soon as she’s finished her meal, Maryanne sneaks up from behind her to snatch the paper plate from Elise’s hand, setting it on the bar top behind them and drags my woman to the makeshift dance floor where she’s bum rushed by her bridesmaids.

  They laugh and dance.

  A hand grips my shoulder, and I turn my head to see Tommy. “Shit, I got me a wife,” I tell him, then take a long pull from my beer.

  “Yeah, you got a wife…” Silence hangs between us for a minute while we both let it soak in. “Just a piece of paper, brother.” He offers. “Nothing different than you already been doing. She was already your family.”

  “Know you’re right, but somethin’ about havin’ that paper feels weightier.” I sigh and slump back against the bar. “Can’t believe you had the balls to do this when we were twenty-one.”

  “My balls have always been bigger than yours.” He laughs and punches my shoulder. “But no doubt, she’d been here, you’d ‘a done it, too. Seriously, she’s already been sleeping in your bed every night. Who you turn to first when you’ve had a shitty day?”

  “Elise.”

  “When you’ve had a fucking fantastic day?”

  “Elise.” I repeat.

  “What I’d be shitting my pants about is that in seven months you’re gonna be responsible for a baby. A fragile human life. Small—”

  “Shut it, Tommy.”

  “Delicate.”

  “Shut it, Tommy.”

  “Completely vulnerable.”

  “Shut it, Tommy!”

  The bastard laughs at me. And he kee
ps laughing until Elise makes her way from the dancefloor back over to us.

  She kisses my cheek while I tuck her under my arm, skimming my hand across her dress to rest on her belly. The second my hand makes contact, all those nerves vanish.

  Tommy can laugh all he wants because right here, right now, I know without a hint of doubt that I’m holdin’ all I’ll ever need in my arms.

  My wife and kid.

  Whose balls are bigger now?

  “You good, baby?” She snuggles closer into me. “Because you look about ready to puke.”

  “Nope. Good now.”

  “You happy?” she asks.

  “Never been happier, darlin’. Tommy here was just tellin’ me how he and Maryanne wanna start tryin’ for a family now, too.” I tell her, watchin’ my oldest friend take a drink of his beer.

  He chokes, coughing up and spitting out beer all over the floor.

  That’ll teach him.

  29.

  Elise

  Tommy’s horrified face was priceless. No doubt he’d been giving Beau shit about our impending bundle of joy. But they both have to know if something that important had been discussed, Maryanne would’ve already told me about it.

  Today has been everything I’ve dreamed it would be, and only gets better when Chaos strolls up to me holding my cell phone. “Elise, sweetheart, you got a call. Should probably take it.”

  I stare at the phone for a beat. “Okay.” Drawing the word out to four syllable length before snatching it from his hand. I answer, “Hello?”

  The low, gravelly, voice surprises the hell out of me. “Elise, girl.” Crass. At hearing him, my eyes immediately tear up. Because I haven’t done enough of that today.

  “Oh my god, I’ve been so worried. How are you?”

  “Better.”

  “You home?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I wanted you here. You deserve to be here.”

  “Chaos told me about Liv. Girl, I’m sorry. So damn sorry.”

  “Don’t.” I have to put a stop to this right now. “Don’t you dare apologize. You were almost killed trying to protect us. And I need to know, who um…who’s taking care of you once you get home?”

  “Me. Sure some of the brothers or old ladies will stop by. I’ll manage.”

  “Nonsense. Come down here. I’ll send some boys up to get you. Me and Liv will get you on your feet in no time.”

  “Sweetheart, not my charter.”

  “I don’t care. I…you…you just need to be here where I can help.”

  “Never had a sister.”

  “Yeah, well, now you have two. Please think about it. Beau and Chaos can make it work. Let me know when you’re getting out.”

  “Gotta go. Congratulations, girl. Tired. Tell Liv I said hey.”

  And he doesn’t even give me time to answer back, just hangs up on me. But he’s awake. He’s awake and talking and I can’t ask for more than that right now.

  After tucking the phone into the pocket of the bodice of my dress—because heck yeah, my dress needed pockets and I was damn well going to have them when I ordered the thing—my husband takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, and leads me out to the makeshift dance floor. The Lady’s house band begins playing the Etta James rendition of “At Last.”

  I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dancing so much as a slow, intimate swaying with my cheek pressed against his chest as Beau sings the words softly in my ear for only me to hear. He can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but no song has ever sounded more beautiful. Ever.

  I had no idea he’d even dance with me today. No idea he’d be the one picking our wedding song. Like always, Beau continues to surprise me. And we continue to sway as if wrapped in our own plastic bubble, separating us from the rest of the world until at almost the final notes of the song a commotion brakes out by the front door of the compound.

  We walk over together, hand in hand, until Beau spies the cause of the commotion and shoves me behind him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” He yells at our unwelcome guests.

  “So it’s true, you really married her?” Margo’s words come out more accusatory than questioning.

  “Get out.”

  “You promised me Beau,” I whisper.

  “Darlin’ you know damn well I didn’t invite ‘em,” he tells me. “Get. Out.” He growls at them again, when they haven’t moved.

  Several of the brothers begin shuffling the wedding crashers to the door when George manages to break away, stepping up in his son’s face.

  “Please, Beau. Be reasonable. You can’t marry her. She’s trash. She’s a whore.”

  My husband doesn’t even get the chance to take a swing at his father. Oh, someone does, just not whose fist I expected to see connecting with the man’s chin.

  Out of nowhere, Liv lets him have it. And since she was raised in the life, Liv knows how to throw a punch.

  I jump out from behind my husband, half screaming, half laughing. “Oh my god, Livvy. That. Was. Awesome.”

  “Don’t you ever talk that crap about my friend again.” She seethes at him right at the same time Margo shrieks.

  But Margo’s shriek doesn’t come from an ‘Oh my god you punched my husband’ place. And we all know it by following the line of her finger pointing at my small, yet noticeable baby bump.

  “Since this is the last time we’ll be speakin’ to one another, I’ll tell you.” Beau takes a menacing step forward. “I’ve already married her.” Another step. “She’s my wife. It’s done.” And another, until he’s standing toe to toe with a visibly shaken George, who smartly steps backward. Though his retreat is thwarted by at least five bikers giving Beau his say.

  My husband puts an exclamation on the conversation by pointing a finger at George’s chest. “We’re expectin’. It’s too bad you’re such an asshole who can’t let go of the past, a past which was not her fault. Because in seven months you could’ve been enjoyin’ your first grandchild from your only son. But you’ll never have that honor, because you never earned it. These people.” He pauses to gesture around to all our guests. “These people will fill in. They’ve already made Elise feel welcome, and they’re looking forward to spoilin’ our kid rotten. So don’t think your absence will be missed. Now get out so me and my wife can enjoy our day with the people we love.”

  “Son, this is a mistake.” George almost sounds pleading instead of contrary. Whatever.

  That’s the last he says because Blue and Levi take ahold of each of his arms and drag him back toward the door.

  When Liv and my other bridesmaid Hannah approach Margo, she turns abruptly, clutching her purse to her chest like she’s in a bad neighborhood and afraid of being mugged, and runs out after her husband.

  “So sorry that happened, baby girl. Especially today. Never wanted their stink to touch you.”

  I shrug. “You still love me?”

  “You even have to ask?”

  “You still want this life, this family, with me?”

  “Ain’t no life, no family without you.” This he says with his forehead tipped close to mine, his arms holding me, brushing his lips along my jaw.

  “Then whatever. Pothole in our road. But I’m warning you, Candy shows up—it’s on.”

  After kissing the tip of my nose, he takes off to see that George and Margo have actually left the property.

  I find myself leaning back against the bar watching Liv get the accolades she deserves for stepping up the way she did, when my phone rings. The display says Maryanne Calling. That’s odd seeing as she’s here.

  But when I scan the room, I don’t see her.

  “Where are you?” I ask after pressing accept and putting the phone to my ear. No hello.

  “Elise.” Maryanne’s voice comes at me low and scared. She sounds like she’s been crying.

  Then there’s a rustle and the voice I hear next is not Maryanne. “Times up.”

  And I wince. “You…you can’t have her. She’s never been wi
th Logan.” Because I’ve heard his voice twice now, there’s no forgetting that voice. I know down to my gut Houdini has Maryanne.

  “I make the rules, Hollister whore. Even trade. You for her.”

  “She can’t be hurt in any way.” I negotiate while tears run down my cheeks and thicken my voice. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. “She’s alive and unhurt.”

  “You have my word.”

  “She stays alive and unhurt even after we’ve made the trade.”

  “Ah, smart girl. Agreed. Of course I’ll have to knock her out for a bit. But I promise, she’ll wake unharmed.”

  I swallow hard. “Where? Where do you want to meet?”

  “There’s a service road to the very back of the compound property. Start walking now. You’ve got ten minutes to get here, or she dies. I remotely think you’ve let on to Bossman or anyone else, she’ll be dead before they reach her.”

  “You have my word.”

  On that parting line, he disconnects and after I check to make sure no one is watching, I run into the kitchen to slip out the back door toward the field.

  When cut grass turns to terrain too bumpy for heels, I kick them off as I run because ten minutes isn’t a lot of time. And the whole time my hand stays lying flat against my mildly convex belly.

  The air chills considerably as the dusky wind picks up. Just like he said, there’s a service road, just a dirt road, up ahead of me where two figures stand. One, clearly a man. One, the silhouette of a woman in a dress on her knees.

  His eyes train on me, watching my every step and when I’m about fifty feet away, he touches the prongs of a stun gun to Maryanne’s shoulder, and she drops.

  She’s just stunned… she’s just stunned, I remind myself over and over, all while continuing to run to him. My side burns from running, and gut aches because well—it’s Maryanne. God, I wish I hadn’t eaten that pork. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  “Please don’t stun me,” I beg once I’ve stopped maybe two feet away, rubbing my belly.

  The sun just beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting light and shadows along the road behind us. Houdini’s eyes drift down.