“Everyone, get into position!” I said excitedly.
Bending low, Kain said into my ear, “You were in position, I was just about to start teasing that perfect pussy of yours.”
Fire poured into my veins. “I’m about to perform a wedding, give me some breathing room.”
“I don’t know, this feels a lot like how her wedding began before.” He cupped my hip, chuckling against my ear.
My eyes fluttered, and if I hadn’t heard Fran swishing along the grass toward us, I might have given in to Kain. Groaning, I stepped away. “Just stand over there, please.”
In a long, red skirt and a floral, too-tight top, the would-be bride finished her trip across the grass toward us. “I got your text earlier. Why did you need me?” Fran asked, climbing the steps into the gazebo. It took her a second, but her eyes trained up, taking in the soft lighting and fresh flowers we’d arranged. “What the hell is all of this?”
On cue, Matilda pressed the CD player button from where she was ducked behind the gazebo. Gentle, sweet violins began to play. Still Fran blinked, turning from me to Kain, then back again.
Hawthorne wandered into view, standing back enough to watch everything. It wasn’t until Midas cleared his throat, climbing the stairs behind her, that what we were doing registered with her. “Midas?” she gasped, spinning to gawk at me. “Sammy, did you . . . ?”
Folding my hands in front of me, I lifted my voice. “Ahem. Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here tonight—”
“Oh! Em! Gee!” she squealed.
“To celebrate the uniting of Francesca Badd and Midas . . .” Shit. I didn’t remember his last name!
“Tengelico,” Kain whispered at me.
“Midas Tengelico,” I said, giving the couple an apologetic look. Behind me in the darkness, I heard Matilda giggle. “Did you two write any vows?”
Midas nodded, facing Fran. “Frannie,” he said, “I knew the day that I met you that we’d be perfect together. Everything I do, I want to do it with you. You’re perfect . . . you’re my light, my world. I love you so much.”
Her eyes welled with tears. Inhaling deeply, she gathered herself. “Midas,” she began, “I wrote a whole bunch of stuff down. I don’t have that, so I’ll just say this: I love you, too. I love your eyes, your smile, how you always let me try your food when we go out to eat.” Beaming, she dabbed at her eyes. “Oh. And if you ever, ever sleep with one of my friends, I’ll cut your balls off.”
I covered my mouth hastily.
Kain didn’t look surprised at all. I guessed he was used to his sister’s relationship, and Midas must have been, too, because he hadn’t even flinched.
Love could be fucking weird.
“Uh, please join hands,” I said. They did, their fingers linking. “If no one objects, then by the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” I prepared to speak the final words—the whole you-may-kiss-the-bride-thing.
Francesca never let me.
She threw her arms around Midas, dragging him to the ground with a kiss too passionate to handle while standing.
I jumped back, my hands held up like I was being arrested. Wide-eyed, I looked at Kain; he was busy bending at the middle and laughing. It was contagious, that big grin of his. With the pair making out in the middle of the gazebo to the sound of violins, I couldn’t hold myself together.
My dad had taught me that when things get hard or ugly, that was when you needed to laugh the most.
So I did.
Wiping my eyes, I looked out over the gardens. It was then that I saw them—three figures looking on like statues meant to stand forever. Fran’s parents were hugging, Costello hovering by their elbows.
Each of them was smiling.
- CHAPTER NINETEEN -
KAIN
“I want to talk about Sammy,” I said.
My father lifted his head from the tablet he’d been scrolling through. Wearing thin-framed glasses, he almost looked like a nice grandfather instead of a dangerous beast.
Putting it aside, he folded his hands. “Talk.”
“I want her out of that room. I want Costello and Thorne to stop guarding her.”
His forehead strained under his heavy eyebrows. “And why should I do that?”
I’d thought this over for a while. It had been over three weeks since Sammy had been locked away. Far too long, by any standard—but especially my own. I knew my father, he was stubborn and didn’t like being challenged. But he also appreciated someone who could admit their mistakes. While I didn’t agree one bit that taking Sammy to see her mother was a mistake . . .
He certainly did.
Lifting my jaw, I said, “Because this time, I’ll watch her every move. She won’t leave the estate until you think it’s safe to do so. I promise that.”
Tapping his chin, he puffed out some air. “Done.”
My mouth fell open. I’d been prepping for a much harder fight. “You’re really agreeing to this?”
“Did you want me to argue?”
“I expected you to,” I said gravely.
Chuckling, he slid deeper into his chair. “I’ve got other things to worry about.” Without prompting, he went on. “I’m starting to think that Brick wanted Sammy specifically. That he wasn’t after our family at all.”
My father’s words turned my blood cold. “But why? She’s got no history with him.” He didn’t blink, he just kept watching me thoughtfully. “Dad. She doesn’t know him. She couldn’t.”
“Maybe. And maybe not.”
“That’s fucking cryptic as hell,” I said. “If you learned something about her, tell me.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, “Sammy might have a more solid relationship with the Deep Shots than I initially assumed. I’ve got people looking into it. We’ll know soon.”
What he was saying was impossible. The Deep Shots were a gang, they were all about guns and gambling. Sammy made wedding dresses and liked vanilla ice cream. Her deepest secret was her boring story about drunkenly registering online to marry people.
He was wrong about her. He’d learn that for certain soon enough.
I considered my words. “I guess it’s a waiting game again.”
“It always is.” He sounded resigned, pushing himself out of his chair with a labored grunt. “Just keep that girl here.” His finger stabbed into my collarbone. “Brick will slip up eventually, and if not, my informants will reveal the truth—whatever it is. Then we can decide what to do.”
His informants. I had a suspicion he was putting every one of the Badd Maids to work overtime to figure this mystery out.
There IS no mystery, I reminded myself firmly. But what if I was wrong? This was ballooning in a way I hadn’t expected.
I’d only just started to understand who Sammy was to me.
Who the hell was she to everyone else?
Swimming in a sea of disconnection, I struggled for the shore. Everything he said, it made no sense. Sammy Sage was no one. Well, to me she was someone, but to this gang, she had no connection.