Once Rachel was comfortable and settled in for some shut-eye, I took off in search of distraction—I mean, to help get ready for the wedding. Henry and Jaya were staying with her while they decided on a course of action based on Elise’s notes, anyway. And I didn’t plan on going far.
Thankfully, Henry had stopped while we were in Cleveland so we could get my Jeep. If I were stranded in the tunnels, there was a distinct possibility I’d snap and knife someone.
“You’ll never guess where I’m headed, Titsy,” I told my fallen friend, once I got behind the wheel. “Hint—it’s a place that freaks me out.”
I started the engine and backed out with a chuckle, imagining his response. “No, but a toddler beauty pageant would be equally horrifying.”
His presence filled the silence, like he was sitting right next to me.
“A church,” I answered, as I drove the short distance to Campus Fellowship. “I’m gonna abduct a preacher.”
A second slipped by before I added, “Peacefully. Sorry, I know they’ll probably take back your giant cherub wings if you’re a conspirator to anything.”
The truth was, I wanted to do something for Wallace and Rena. Something nice to help pre-atone for the hell I planned on unleashing on Frizzhead and One-eye and the rest of their twisted disciples.
“Speakin’ of sorry,” I went on, “you know I feel bad about indirectly getting you involved in this shit, right? Rest assured, though, you went out exactly like you wanted. Big ol’ blaze of glory. It even helped Grandma see Faye for the wretched piece of shit that she is.”
The radio hummed static. “No, I can’t ghost-five right now, Tits. I’m trying to drive here. Ten and two. You want me to have an accident?”
I turned into the near-empty lot. “Hey, I resent that. I’m not ready to reunite yet.”
The conversation, one-sided as it had been, almost made me feel normal—like my life wasn’t ripping apart at the seams. If I could just hold on to my sanity for a little longer, make it until we took out ERA once and for all, I’d be able to decompress. Maybe Rach and I could take a trip. Somewhere far from here. Far from everything.
I got out and jogged up to the little parsonage beside the chapel. Three knocks brought me face to face with the guy that had broken up Wallace’s and my fight a few months ago.
“Hey,” the man said with an easy smile. “Can I help you with something?”
“Do you remember me?” I pointed to my face. “Cole Blake.”
“Wallace’s brother.”
“Right.”
“Sure.” He stepped back and opened the door a little wider. “Wanna come in, Cole?”
I waved him off. “No time, but thanks, preacher.”
“Call me Mark.”
“Mark, then. I actually need a favor.”
He scratched his chin. “Shoot.”
“You do weddings, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Can you do one tonight?”
Slow. Blink. “As in, the actual ceremony?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning against the post on his little porch. “Then another service for show tomorrow.”
“That’s not…” Mark looked at me like he was trying to gauge my seriousness. “We usually do pre-marital counseling first, and then there’s clearing everything with the church. I think you have to book the chapel, like, months in advance.”
“We don’t need the chapel, and there’s no time for counseling. How much will it take to get you there?”
His mouth dropped. “I-It’s not about the money. I just…you and your fiancée have to get married tomorrow?”
“Oh.” I shook my head. “No, not us. It’s Wallace and Rena. They need to get married.”
Apparently, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Is she…?” He gestured a bump over his stomach, like someone was listening in.
“Pregnant?” I offered. “That depends. Will it expedite the process any?”
“No…?”
“Then no, she’s not pregnant.”
He faltered, chuckling under his breath. “I have to tell you, Cole, I’m really confused here.”
“I can explain everything in full detail,” I assured him. “I just need to know if you can give us a few days.”
“Is it a destination wedding?”
I thought about it for a second. “Yes.”
Mark blew out an uneasy breath and rubbed his forehead. “All right, but only because I’ve always been a fan of Team Wallena.”
It was my turn to blink. Did he just give them a ‘ship name?
I shook his hand. “Good man. If you want to take some time to pack a bag, I can stick around and drive you back with me.”
“Sure. Come on in.”
I didn’t hate this guy as much as I wanted to. Maybe he could do a service for Titsy after all the dust settled.
“Sorry about the mess,” he called over his shoulder. “I wasn’t planning on getting abducted today.”
My eyes flashed to his.
Oh. He was laughing.
I stepped over the threshold and picked my way around dishes and game cases. “I take it you live alone?”
Mark disappeared around the corner. “Yeah, it’s just me unless a visiting pastor needs to crash here.”
“Ah.” So, no one would miss him if we had him hang out in the tunnels a few days. “Quick question, Mark.”
“What’s that?”
I flopped down on his couch. “Are you claustrophobic?”
CHAPTER 18
« RENA »
Everything happened so fast.
One minute, Wallace and I were discussing the possibility of moving our wedding date up to bring our families in; the next, Cole was dragging Pastor Mark to the tunnels and Gabby was taking me thrifting for a dress. I couldn’t process it. I wasn’t ready.
If we were getting married tonight, that meant our honeymoon was also tonight. In the middle of all this chaos, Wallace and I were going to have sex for the first time—in the tunnels, of all places! This wasn’t the kind of thing you just thrust on someone.
Thrust.
Heh.
God, I was tired. First things first, though, we had to stop at the house. I needed a shower for the big night, and Gabby needed to ransack my bathroom for beauty supplies.
“You think they’ll have cute preggo dresses at the thrift store?” she asked, pawing through my makeup case. “‘Cause I don’t want to look frumpy in the photos.”
We were in danger as soon as we put our location out in the open tomorrow, and she was worried about her dress. Some things never changed. I popped my head around the shower curtain. “I’m sure. If not, we can make some modifications.”
“True…”
If we were going to make it through this, I would have to compartmentalize. No panicking about impending attack or sneaking tears over a friend I’d barely begun to know. It was the happiest day of my life, damn it.
I used my fancy body wash and shaved my legs twice while Gabby sang to herself and planned our evening looks.
“So, I figured out who the father is,” she mentioned, nonchalant like she’d commented on the weather.
“What?”
Her silhouette shrugged. “With all the time I’ve had to kill in the tunnels, I pinpointed a conception window and checked it against my phone calendar.”
“And?” It was like a blind, interactive version of The Maury Show. “Who is it?”
“The one you’re praying it isn’t,” she huffed. “And rightfully so. Do you know I called that jackass yesterday?”
Uh oh…
“He was all, ‘Whoa, babe!’” She lowered her voice to mimic his stoner drawl. “We had a lot of fun, but that’s too much for me right now. I’ve got Gail and—”
I ripped the curtain back again. “He seriously mentioned Gail?”
“Uh huh. Then he had the nerve to say we’d need a paternity test before he could acknowledge anything, beca
use of child support. Do you believe that shit? I told him not to even bother. That man is so dead to me now.”
Relief warred with indignation on my face, and I was glad she couldn’t see it in the steamed-up mirror. “What a chump.”
“Seriously, and don’t you dare say I told you so.”
I mimed zipping my lips and pulled the curtain shut again. No problems there.
“That reminds me, though. I need to ask you a favor,” she said, her shadowed form cramming my hair dryer into a bag.
“What’s that?”
“Will you film my birth?”
My eyes bugged out, hidden behind vinyl oceanic creatures. “What?”
“Like, not all of it,” she explained. “Just parts for my vlog.”
“Ew.” Was she seriously going to put that on the Internet?
“They want to be part of the experience!” Her shadow turned around and grew larger. “I gotta ask now, ‘cause it could always come early. Imagine the hits I’ll get on that one.”
Well, she had given up a significant chunk of her life for my mess. “Fine, fine…”
Wait.
Hits.
Internet following.
That was how we could expose Faye! We’d use Gabby’s reach to broadcast it all around the world. No violence necessary.
The scent of Henri Bendel rose petals filled the air as I jerked the curtain back just enough to poke my head out again. “Gabs, I have an idea.”
She made a face. “Ree, I’m really not in a condition for you to go through your college experiment phase now.”
“What? No!”
Gabby snorted.
“This is serious,” I chided. “I’m trying to save the freakin’ world here.”
“Okay, okay…” She waved a hand over herself. “Serious face. Go for it.”
I took a deep breath of thick, warm air. “So, it seems like no matter what we do, or who we…eliminate, ERA is always going to have a foothold somewhere. It’s too big. The reach is too far.”
“Yeah?”
“What if we exposed them?”
That quirked her eyebrow. “Like, told on them to the government?”
“Politicians can be bought.” I shook my head. “We need to make everything available to the public, make the whole thing go viral.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s some serious shit, girl. Then everyone would know about you super weirdoes.”
“I know…”
“And nothing could ever be the same.”
“I know, Gabby.”
“Damn.”
I wiped a strand of plastered hair away from my eyes. “The thing is, we’d probably need to use your channel.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes got even bigger. “Like an exposé!”
“Yeah, I mean, nothing too formal. Just some sneaky video footage and—”
“Girl, I am all over that shit. You know what that could do for my career?”
“Your medical career?”
“That was so last semester! Where you been?”
I flung the curtain shut and finished up. “Gee, I don’t know, trying to thwart a maniac bent on world domination?”
“Like that’s an excuse!” She swatted the other side of the curtain and laughed. “I’m thinking about being some kind of show host.”
“You’d be good at that,” I told her, fumbling for the faucet.
“Thanks! You know what you’d be good at?”
“What?”
“Shower marathons. Get your ass out here and get ready! We’ve got shoppin’ to do.”
~
Gabby achieved the impossible.
Not only did she snag herself an adorable maxi for seven dollars, but she found me the perfect dress for my two-part wedding. It was short as far as bridal gowns go, it stopped just shy of my knees, but it fit our non-traditional circumstances perfectly. Eggshell white, lace décolletage, and pearl buttons all the way down the spine. Wallace was going to explode.
I couldn’t wait.
“Don’t move,” Gabby instructed, holding my fresh curls as she sprayed everything in a five-foot radius.
I hacked up a lung and eyed the pipes around us, praying there wasn’t any kind of flame nearby. We’d commandeered a fairly open part of the tunnels upon our return, but that didn’t mean the walls wouldn’t be sticky for years.
She brandished a fan of bobby pins. “Did you call your folks yet?”
“Ugh.” Why did she have to remind me?
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“They’re coming,” I admitted, “but my dad thinks I’m pregnant, my mom thinks I’m dying, and my brother’s fiancée thinks I’m trying to steal their thunder.”
Gabby cackled. “At least you got it over with. I have to invite my folks to my roommate’s wedding, which is weird enough, and then hear about the whole Internet debacle again—probably once in each language.”
“Ouch.”
She had a point, though. It was weird. And how many people were going to attend with a day’s notice? We hadn’t yet discussed a game plan where they didn’t show up. I counted on my fingers how many we needed to get up there.
Mom, Dad, Wolfie, Drew, and Brittani…
Gabby’s two parents…
Corynn’s folks and her brother…
Ten, counting Wolfie.
Add that to the sixteen we already had secured—Cole, Rachel, Wanda, Frank Bacon, Henry, Jaya, Corynn, Gabby, Aiden, Clara, Edwin, Vlad, Zvoni, Pastor Mark, Wallace, and me. Twenty-six. Twenty-six lives we would be responsible for.
I was going to be sick.
“So, what’s this island like?” Gabby wanted to know, stabbing me with a pin.
Considering the brief nature of my last visit to Middle Bass, I didn’t have much to tell her. The plan was to have our families meet us there for a so-called destination wedding, and then we’d launch into the much-dreaded supernatural discussion. Inviting them directly to the tunnels would’ve compromised our only safe house, and if we’d had them charter boats directly to Sanctuary, it’d get too many people talking—especially if something did end up happening. The last thing we needed was witnesses reporting descriptions to the authorities on who had set out for a supposedly abandoned island.
So, we’d settled for its closest neighbor.
Wallace had already worked out the logistics with George over the phone. Providing no one went nuts, Todd the Teleporter was going to whisk our families back to the tunnels. If Faye and her minions showed up to crash the party, they’d be stuck without a trail to follow. Meanwhile, the rest of us would beam over to Sanctuary—or however the whole teleportation thing worked—ready to film.
Instead of finding a place in the outside world for the soon-to-be-extracted SAGES, we were going to bring the outside world to them. Then they could land wherever the hell they wanted. Of course, it wouldn’t be that simple.
George had been working with the sympathizers at Sanctuary, but we could still have a whole sub-faction of ERA drones to deal with. Not to mention the SAGES themselves. If things went south, the exposé would be off the table. We’d have to go to plan B, which meant we’d have to—
“Ree?” Gabby bent and waved a hand in front of my face, her dark eyes perfected with makeup.
“Sorry.” I coughed and it echoed in the tight space. “Um, there are a lot of trees…”
She peered at me. “Is it pretty?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I told her, realizing what she was fishing for. “I’ll find the most hideous, desolate area to have the second wedding. You won’t miss anything, I swear.”
“Stop.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re gonna pull something with all that stretchin’.”
I cracked a grin.
Damn, I missed this. Back-and-forths with Gabby, her having to save me from my hair styling ineptitude. The only thing missing was Aiden. All he did anymore was sit and observe, making the occasional bland comment.
“Do
you know if Corynn got a hold of her folks?” I asked.
If she nodded, I didn’t see it. She’d resumed her position behind me, and the tunnels were severely lacking in mirrors. “Yeah, she went topside and emailed them those plane tickets after pitching her sob story on the phone.”
This part, I felt bad about. To get them to drop everything and cross the pond, she’d had to lie. A lot. Their next however many hours would be spent worrying about their daughter’s health after her so-called accident—but at least they’d be safe from Faye. For a while, at least.
“Okay, I think we’re done here,” she announced, handing me my compact. She held hers behind me, and I tried to catch the back of my updo in the unsteady reflection.
“Gabby, you’re a miracle worker.”
“I know.” She beamed. “Now let’s get you to your man!”
~
“Here Comes the Bride” sounded from a cell phone somewhere.
Amazingly, the canned music didn’t detract from the moment. In my absence, our friends and Wallace’s family had been busy. Car mats lined the hallway, end to end, with candles on either side. Corynn handed me a fragrant bouquet of every summer flower of the rainbow. I mouthed a thank you.
As I started down the makeshift aisle, dozens and dozens of similar petals disappeared under my white ballet flats. I probably should’ve tried harder to find heels, given the over-a-foot difference between my fiancé and me, but I’d fallen in love with the flats at the store. They had a soft lace overlay that complemented the dress and lent the whole outfit a more romantic feel. Soon, they’d be tossed beside his dress shoes in our room…
I swallowed and lifted my chin to meet Pastor Mark’s gaze at the end of the aisle. Oops. He smiled despite the overwhelmed look in his eyes and waved his bible with a quick nod. The fact that Cole had not only convinced the guy to officiate both ceremonies, but had willingly broken his rule to bring him into our inner circle floored me. It was the sweetest wedding gift we could’ve asked for—especially from someone whose thoughts were no doubt still consumed with grief.
Loyalty Page 16
