Becca pressed a kiss to Charlie’s face. “Thank you. I’m sorry that in all the craziness I didn’t think of this sooner.” He shook his head, clearly moved by her request.
“Very good,” McAdams said. “Let’s head outside to see how we’ll arrange things at the dais.”
As they walked the length of the courtyard, Sonya said, “Remember not to walk too fast, bridesmaids. It’s longer than usual, so everyone always wants to run up the aisle.” The women all laughed. When they got to the raised brick porch, Sonya directed each of them to where they should stand for the ceremony itself.
After that, McAdams sped them through the words so they knew what would happen. And then Sonya was guiding them back down the aisle again to show them where to stand for the reception line they were going to form before returning to the porch for group pictures.
This all seemed pretty basic to Nick, and frankly he was a little impatient with it. But that was just the broader situation talking. He tried to block it out as much as he could, especially since Becca seemed to be enjoying herself. And given what they were yet to face at dinner, he didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.
“Okay, let’s do a full run-through,” McAdams said. “Gentlemen, except Charlie, come with me.”
Nick frowned and turned to Becca.
She smiled and winked. “Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “You’re already the prettiest bride there ever was.”
“Aw, sweet man. I don’t care what anyone says, I’m going to run up this aisle to you,” she said as he headed for the door.
“I won’t object to that at all,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the mansion.
And then Sonya guided the women back inside and closed the doors behind them.
CHAPTER 11
This is so exciting, Becca,” Sara said, looking around at the elegant room. “This place is so gorgeous.”
“I know. I fell in love immediately,” Becca said. The beautiful summer night, the sweet fragrance of the garden flowers, the ambiance provided by the historic architecture. Tomorrow was going to be amazing.
Assuming it happened.
No, it was happening. Becca just had to believe it.
“Becca,” Sonya said. “If you have your phone, I can hook it up to the sound system so it plays in the courtyard. Just show me what songs you want.”
Becca opened her wedding playlist. “This is the music that can play while people are being seated,” Becca said, pointing to a list of songs. “This one is for the bridesmaids’ procession, and this one is for mine.”
“Very good.” Sonya hooked up the phone. Classical music immediately filtered in from outside. Sonya had Becca line the women up in the order in which she wanted them to march, and the music changed for the bridesmaids. “And now we’re marching,” Sonya said as she opened the doors. The warm twilight air spilled in. White lights twinkled in the trees and on lines strung across the courtyard. It was magical.
One by one, the women walked out the doors. Jenna, Sara, Emilie, then Kat. And then it was just Becca and Charlie left to walk down the aisle. She turned to him. “I’m so lucky to have you as my brother, Charlie. I just want you to know how grateful I am that all of this has brought us closer again.” Next to finding Nick, that was one of the brightest silver linings in everything that had happened.
He gave her a small smile. “I feel the same exact way,” he said.
“Okay,” Sonya said from beside the doors. “Now I’ll change to the wedding march, and it’ll be your turn.”
“Shut the fucking door,” came a deep voice from behind them.
Becca whirled. She recognized the voice immediately. Woodson. For real this time.
“Who are you, sir?” Sonya asked. “You can’t be in here.”
He brandished a gun directly at her. “I said, shut the fucking door. Now.”
As the blood drained from her face, Sonya hastily pushed the doors closed.
Becca fumbled for her purse, but the decorative metal clasp stuck.
“Don’t move, Becca. Don’t even fucking breathe. In fact, toss that bag down. Now.” Woodson stalked closer.
Which was when Becca realized he’d lost a lot of weight since she’d seen him two months ago. His eyes and face had the sunken, haggard look of an addict. He’d let his hair grow back in, too. He was no longer bald. “It was you. On the street the other night.”
“Told you I was gonna show you. And when I found out about your wedding, I thought, what better time. Was gonna wait ’til tomorrow. Do it up right for the big crowd. But I figure, I got you now for sure.”
Charlie moved just the smallest amount to angle himself in front of her, and Woodson tracked the movement like a hawk. He trained his weapon at Charlie’s head and arched an eyebrow. “Get down on the floor,” he ordered Becca’s brother. “You, too.” He glared at Sonya, who rushed to comply. Charlie sank down more slowly, and Becca could feel the anger and frustration rolling off of him.
Becca needed to distract Woodson from whatever he planned to do. Delay him, at the very least. At some point Nick was going to realize something was wrong—she had faith in that into her very bones. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. So she just had to hold on for a short while.
“I told you to drop the bag. Do it now,” Woodson barked out, punctuating his words by jabbing the gun at the air.
Her belly sinking, Becca dropped the purse next to her feet.
Woodson gave her a droll stare. “Don’t fucking play me. Kick it away.”
She did, a little of her hope going with it as it slid across the hardwood floor. “How did you know about my wedding?” she asked, wanting to keep him talking.
“Yeah, that was some lucky shit, wasn’t it? For me, anyway.” He stalked closer, slowly, like he was paranoid despite the fact that he was the one with the weapon. “Little sister of a Churchman who was killed works in housekeeping at the hospital. Guess someone left an invitation out in the staff break room.”
“So she’s how you got the stuffed animal in to me,” she said, her voice shaky. She hadn’t been freaking out for nothing after all. Woodson really had been lurking around the edges of her life. For how long she wasn’t sure. But what a lesson to trust her instincts.
His grin was sadistic and cruel. “Enjoyed my little calling card, did ya?” He didn’t give her the chance to answer, because as soon as he was close enough, he roughly grabbed her arm and tugged her against him. He spun her so her back was to his front, then he dragged her away from Charlie’s reach. His forearm pressed savagely into her throat, choking her as she struggled to keep her heels under her. “Because of you,” he hissed into her ear, “I lost everything I had. And now you’re going to see how that feels, starting with him.”
Woodson lifted the gun.
Becca had to do some—
The syringe!