“I promise to be faithful and honest in our life together, always putting our love and happiness first. You will be my confidant, my best friend, and my lover through sickness and health, days of plenty and days of want, through good times and bad. I will stand beside you no matter what the day brings. With you by my side, I can face anything.”
“Those are beautiful vows, Colton and Chaise. Your personalities both shine through your words,” the minister said. “Now, you probably didn’t know that your friends have a few words they’d like to say as well.”
Bull and Chaise both froze and searched for the words to respond. Noah cleared his throat and began the litany of impromptu vows before either had a chance to react.
“Bull, as your best friend and your best man, I promise to stop threatening to kick your ass for dating my sister. If you leave our family now, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Bull, I promise to always take Chaise’s side in an argument, because we all know you’re usually wrong,” Rebel added.
“Bull, I promise to use the pictures from your bachelor party as blackmail against you as often as possible,” Shadow said.
The crowd erupted in laughter, cheers, and loud clapping after each man recited his vow. Bull and Chaise joined in the good-natured revelry as they laughed and accepted each vow with humility.
“If I’d known this was customary, I would’ve prepared vows for each of you, too. Let me see what I can do, though.
“Reaper, I promise that you’ll leave this family before I willingly leave it. Rebel, I promise that Chaise really doesn’t need any help to win an argument with me. And Shadow, I promise that you will suffer daily if those pictures get leaked.”
After the renewed laughing, cheering, and clapping died down, the minister continued. “Despite the joking, or maybe I should say because of the joking, the love between all of you is obvious. Some of the best people I’ve had the privilege of calling family were no blood relation at all. But they support my wife and me, our marriage, our love, and our children. Colton and Chaise, you have that in the people here with you this evening. Never be ashamed to ask them for help when you need it.
“Colton, do you take Chaise to be your lawfully wedded wife, for all the days of your life until you die?” the minister asked.
“I do.”
“Chaise, do you take Colton to be your lawfully wedded husband, for all the days of your life until you die?”
“I do.”
“Colton, do you have Chaise’s ring?” he asked.
Noah handled Bull the wedding band and Bull held it up.
“This small circle symbolizes never-ending love and commitment. It seals your vow that the promises you’ve made here today have no expiration date. Colton, place the ring on Chaise’s finger, and repeat after me.”
Bull slid the ring on her finger and lovingly stroked her hand with his thumb. His eyes never left hers as he repeated the words.
“This ring is a token from my heart. It symbolizes my desire for you to be mine, and for me to be yours, from this day forward, until we both shall die. Just as this ring is eternal, so is my love. With this ring, I thee wed.”
“Chaise, do you have Colton’s ring?”
Brianna gave Chaise Bull’s wedding band. She slid the ring on his finger and repeated the same words back to Bull.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Florida, the world of Walt Disney, and the magic of Mickey, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” The minister smiled.
“Finally!” Bull yelled. He wrapped his arms around Chaise, picked her up off the ground, and covered her mouth with his. The sound of multiple throats clearing behind him finally caught his attention and he reluctantly released her back to her spot.
“Wow—I’m not sure my legs will hold me up now,” Chaise laughed.
“I’ll always be here to carry you,” Bull replied.
“It is my pleasure to now present Mr. and Mrs. Colton Lanier. They’ve asked that you join them for their reception just across the footbridge on the private terrace. Congratulations to the happy couple!”
Everyone moved to the private terrace while Bull, Chaise, and the bridal party had professional photos taken. The staff strategically placed the iPads at the reception so that Steve and Sara had an unobstructed view of the entire party. When Bull and Chaise finally joined the party, the band began playing to give them the first dance.
“I picked this song—just for you,” Bull said as he pulled Chaise into his arms. They began to sway to “Amazed” by Lonestar, and he sang the lyrics to her in whispered tones. With every step, he felt her meld with him. She gripped him tightly and sighed with every verse he sang to her.
“Can I interest you in a honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons? The entire top floor happens to be reserved just for two people. We can make as much noise as we want,” she whispered her proposition to him when the song ended.
“It’s time to go. Everyone go home now,” Bull announced loudly.
“No, you don’t, young man,” Bull’s mom chastised him. “We still have a lot of pictures to take tonight.”
Bull grinned because he knew that was the response he’d receive from at least one of the ladies.
“And you haven’t cut the cake yet. And Chaise hasn’t danced with Noah, your dad, or my dad yet,” Brianna added. “So zip it.”
“Ah, tell the truth, Sunny. You just want to dance with me,” Bull replied.
“I’ll dance with you,” Liz answered for Brianna. “Your dance card will be full all night.”
“I get the first dance with Chaise,” Silas’s deep voice called from behind them. “Get in line, boys.”
“Silas.” Chaise smiled. “You really should officially meet my husband now. Colton, Silas. Silas, Colton.”
“Bull,” he replied. “Only Chaise and my mom call me Colton.”
Silas shook his hand. “Chaise has told me a lot about you since I arrived this morning. It seems like I’ve known you for years now.”
“We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now. How’d she find you?” Noah asked.
“Mom got a message to me,” Silas answered. “I’ve been deep undercover and couldn’t risk contacting anyone until the case was over.”
“So you’re out now?” Chaise asked. “For good?”
“For this case, baby girl,” Silas replied. “It’ll be a while before I take another undercover case, though.”
The band moved on to the next song and Silas smiled at Chaise. “I think they’re playing our song. May I have this dance?”
“Of course,” she replied. She turned to Bull and kissed his lips. “Now’s a good time for you to dance with Brianna.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Bull smiled and took Brianna’s hand. “Come on, little sister, dance with me.”
The four walked onto the dance floor and started their dance. The sun had set, and the lights strung around the terrace illuminated the dance floor. The flash from several cameras cast more light on the two couples as they laughed and swayed to the music. When Noah couldn’t stand it any longer, he cut in on Silas for his turn with Chaise. Silas, in turn, cut in on Bull to officially meet his sister-in-law.
“They miss you,” Brianna told Silas. “They’ve spoken of you often. Especially since we found out about Steve’s cancer.”
“They’re good kids” Silas replied. “It’s best that I don’t contact anyone when I’m undercover. Besides putting them in danger, I’m just not a nice person when I’m in character. But I’m back now, so I’ll be around so much, they’ll wish I was back undercover.”
They danced, ate, drank, and enjoyed each other’s company until the park closed for the night. Then they took their party to the reserved top floor of the swanky hotel. The floor consisted of a nine-bedroom suite, a four-bedroom suite, plus eight additional guest rooms outside the suites. Chaise walked from room to room, gawking at the amenities and the view the picturesque windows afforded.
> “Noah, this is too much,” she said. “You didn’t have to do all this for us.”
“I wanted you to have the fairy-tale wedding and the fairy-tale honeymoon you’ve always dreamed of. You deserve it, Chaise,” he replied. “I remember you always said you’d get married at Disney when you were a little kid.”
“I did,” she laughed. “I never dreamed it would be like this, though.”
“It is amazing.”
“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done,” she hugged him. “I love you, Noah.”
“I love you, too. I only want you to be happy.”
“I am. So very happy.”
20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Turan paced in the cell he’d been held in for what felt like several days. But in reality, it was more likely that it had been only a couple of days. There were no windows anywhere, so it was impossible for him to accurately gauge time. In fact, he was almost positive that he was deep underground in a basement somewhere. The agents who’d delivered him there wouldn’t answer any of his demands to know what would happen to him. His aggravation from being at their mercy was at an all-time high, and he needed to release his pent-up energy.
However, the four walls that contained him disagreed.
One of the CIA agents opened the thick steel door to his solitary confinement and slid the barred gate across the floor until it locked into place. “Now, let’s have a talk,” the agent said as he sat.
“What do you want, pig?”
“You’ve been very busy lately. Want to tell me what you’ve been doing?”
Turan laughed smugly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m an innocent diplomatic worker. You’ve got the wrong man—again. Seems to be a pattern for you.”
He smiled at Turan. “Your choirboy act doesn’t fly with me, Turan. I can keep you here for as long as it takes for you to decide to talk. My job says I can do whatever it takes to get you to talk.”
“I’m not scared of you, pig.”
Turan would never admit to anything. He knew he was a genius with the computer. He could break in to secure systems others could only dream of accessing. He’d already proven it, but no one knew yet. He’d built somewhat of a safeguard into the last private network he’d accessed. If anything happened to him, the program would launch itself after seven days of inactivity.
“Have it your way.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes seemed to change between warm and cold with the flip of an internal switch.
The CIA agent rolled the bars back into the wall and stared at Turan with a look that was all too familiar—he had the cold eyes of a killer. Turan was caught in his own thoughts momentarily and missed the agent’s discreet movements as he slid the brass knuckles onto his fingers. The loud thwack of the metal hitting bone rang in Turan’s ears before he realized his cheekbone was on fire. Turan stumbled backward, lost his balance, and landed on the floor.
Heavy, steel-toed boots repeatedly pounded his ribs, stomach, and back. He curled into a fetal position, trying to protect his head with his arms, but the bruising boots were relentless. Warm blood flowed from his busted nose, the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he realized he was becoming numb. His body was shutting down.
Hands reached under his arms and around his ankles, picked him up, and placed him on something that felt harder than his bed. He was dizzy from the beating and disoriented from the blows to his head, but he knew he was being moved. A gurney, maybe? Cool air flowed over his injuries and made him shiver. He tried to open his eyes to see where he was and what he faced, but they were just so heavy.
“Clean him up and put him back in his cell. We’ll continue when he feels better,” the agent snickered.
Time passed, but Turan only drifted in and out of consciousness. It could’ve been hours or it could’ve been days, he wasn’t sure. When he had brief moments of lucidity, he thought he’d felt a pinprick, but then he was quickly out again. Through the fog and haze in his mind, he realized they must have drugged him to keep him quiet. He carefully lifted one eyelid to determine where he was being held.
He was alone in his cell again. He slowly sat up on the side of the cot and waited for the dizziness to pass. When he was sure he could stand, he walked to the sheet of reflective stainless steel that served as his mirror. His wounds had been cleaned and looked better than he’d thought they would. He estimated he’d been out about three days from the appearance of his injuries.
His tray suddenly slid through the small opening at the bottom of the door, and he rushed to the window.
“Hey!” he screamed. “How long are you keeping me here? Don’t I get a phone call or something?”
“No, you don’t,” a voice replied.
It was the only voice he’d heard since he’d arrived there besides the CIA agent who continually harassed him. The few people he’d seen refused to speak to him for any reason. The one who brought his food simply opened a small door at the bottom of the door and slid his tray inside. The two people who picked up his trays every evening didn’t acknowledge his existence.
“What’s happening? When will I get to go home?” he asked.
“You’re not going home,” the man said as he approached the steel door. He stopped to look Turan in the eye through the window as he finished, “Ever.”
Turan’s eyes flew open wide, his jaw dropped, and he struggled to find the words to say. “Rashad.” A name was all he could manage.
“You seem surprised,” Rashad replied.
“I am. I don’t understand what’s happening,” Turan replied.
“What’s happening?” Rashad mused. “You’ve continually screwed up, not paid attention to what’s going on around you, and followed your own agenda. You’ve put the needs of the brotherhood last on your insignificant quest for your own revenge. That’s what’s happening.”
“Are you working for the Americans?” Turan asked in his attempt to catch up.
Rashad released a sarcastic laugh. “No.”
“They work for you?”
“I gave you a chance, Turan. You were released. You could’ve arranged safe passage out of the country, or even just stopped your foolishness. But I had to accept that you wouldn’t stop until you’d ruined all of us.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now, I move forward with our original plans. For you, now is all there is,” Rashad replied. “Goodbye, Turan.”
Rashad turned and walked away while Turan called his name after him, increasing in volume and intensity with each breath. Rashad left the building and placed a call on his burner phone.
“In the next two weeks,” he said and hung up.
No further explanation was needed. It bothered Rashad that he’d secretly feared he wouldn’t be able to say the words. If his men knew he held a soft spot for Turan, they would question his leadership skills. If they questioned his leadership skills, he’d automatically lose his position and, with it, his life. His clipped commands at least gave the illusion of control and decisiveness.
He dragged his hands over his face and through his hair. Anger filled him at being put in this predicament in the first place. “Why should I feel guilty for the problems he causes?” Rashad asked aloud. “It’s not my fault. I’ve told him.”
He looked back at the plain building and made peace with his decision. “Goodbye, Turan. Until we meet again.”
* * *
“I don’t want to be the one to call him,” Brad insisted.
“You have to call him. You have to explain what you found,” Roman replied and secretly smirked inside. He was just glad he wasn’t the one who was going to interrupt Reaper on his Christmas vacation for his sister’s wedding.
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” Brad said solemnly.
“Ah, come on. Reaper’s not unreasonable. Trust me, he’ll want to know about this. You’ll be better off telling him now than waiting until later,” Roman assured him.
“Here goe
s nothing,” Brad replied and picked up the phone.
After a few rings, Reaper picked up and Brad readied himself for the conversation.
“Steele.”
“Reaper, this is Brad. Hate to bother you on your vacation, but I found something I thought you’d want to know about.”
“Let’s have it.”
“Roman brought Turan’s laptop back for me to have a look at what he’s been up to. He’d hacked in to the Air Force’s drone control center and set it up to launch if he hadn’t logged in to the system in the previous seven days. I’ve found a way to disable it, but I’m frankly alarmed that he was able to do that at all,” Brad explained.
“What was the drone programmed to do when it launched?”
“It was to launch a fully armed MQ-9 Reaper drone to fire on Miami. Think it’s a coincidence he chose the Reaper?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “I’ll contact Commander Adkins and give him a heads-up. I’m sure there will be several agencies interested in hearing what you’ve found. Good job, Brad.”
“Thank you. Sorry to bother you.”
“Don’t be. It’s all good. I’d rather know what’s going on than not know,” Reaper said. “And if I don’t talk to you again this week, have a Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks, Reap. You, too,” Brad replied before they disconnected.
“What was that about?” Brianna asked Noah.
“Our friend Turan is one slippery bastard,” Noah replied and then relayed the conversation to the group.
“I told you he needed more shocks,” Liz said to Shadow. “You should’ve listened to me.”
“I’m not sure how that would’ve helped this situation, Liz,” Shadow replied.
“It would’ve made me feel better. That’s how,” she replied.
Silas stared at Shadow and Liz, trying to decide which one was crazier. Liz, for the things she said, or Shadow, for continuing to try to talk sense into her. “Is your guy alerting anyone?” Silas asked Noah.
Wicked Nights Page 20
