Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I know he can tell I’m lying.
He wraps me in his arms. His body is so warm, I shiver against his skin and lie down. My silk pillow sinks down, and his legs, as they always do, tangle in mine. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
A tear slides down my cheek. I hope he doesn’t feel it.
Another follows. “I know.”
“I love you.”
I choke out the words. “I love you too.”
“Everything is going to be fine. I respect King. He’s a good man.”
I don’t respond.
I know what he says is right.
And maybe…
Maybe that’s the problem.
Chapter Nine
“The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain tops where she is found.” —Edgar Allan Poe
King
I’m puking my guts out.
It’s not pretty, not that puke ever is.
And it’s not because I was up late getting high or wasted—I actually crashed early and woke up to the rest of the guys still drunk, which did make me laugh for a short minute before I realized it was my wedding day.
Which brings us back to the toilet, my puke, and the fact that I can’t keep anything down.
A knock sounds at the door as I’m brushing my teeth. We’re leaving for our honeymoon today, so I already have all my shit, my toothbrush included on top of my mouthwash, so I’m able to actually pull myself together in that church bathroom when really I want to go back to the toilet and do a little worship.
Hallelujah.
“Hey,” a voice says, and then another, harder knock before the door bursts open, and I see Chase, my uncle for lack of better terms, scary-as-shit senator, Ash’s dad, and basically the best bro to the President of the United States.
“Yo,” I say because I have no brain cells left after puking said brains out.
He looks me up and down, and I study him in return. His hair is jet black, some gray peppers throughout it, and his jaw is firm like he’s been clenching it for the last decade. In another life, he could have been a model, an actor. Tattoos swirl up around his neck as he crosses his arms. His bright blue eyes lock on, and I know he’s about to get serious.
“Sit.” He pulls the toilet seat down and points.
It’s in the third stall.
The biggest one of all three of them.
He closes the door.
“You killing me on my wedding day? At least make the cut super deep, so I don’t spend too much time bleeding out before asphyxiating.” I sit on the toilet and lean my arms on my legs.
“I get it.” He ignores my joke completely. “Trust me, I do.”
I look away. “You still got your happy ever after, though.”
His first wife was killed. She betrayed the Families but, in the end, saved a lot of lives. Chase still mourned her death, as did his current wife and his kids, but it changed the Families. Her actions changed everything despite the way everyone mourned what she could have been—what she could be had she made a different choice.
Fuck, it feels full circle as I sit in that bathroom.
He made a sacrifice all those years ago—aligning the Families.
This was mine. My sacrifice.
I need to be stronger than he was, not that he wasn’t, but this is different. I’m going to be the Capo of all the Families.
All of them.
I can’t be weak, so I sit straighter. I tell myself that all the jokes and fun, the sleeping around, the laughter—they have to die just like my dream of marrying someone who loves me the same way I love them.
I blink.
I stare up at Chase and inwardly scream.
I go to hell and back.
I return to that stall.
And I stare straight ahead, my fists clenched.
I’ll do my job.
And I’ll do it fucking well.
“Pull it together,” Chase says in an even voice. He tosses a towel at me.
I wipe my mouth. I’ve already brushed my teeth for the third time and nearly choked to death on mouthwash.
“You’ll be fine.”
I stand. “I know. I have no other choice, right? Whatever sacrifice you’re asked to make, you make it.”
“You make it,” he echoes. “But that doesn’t make it easier, and it doesn’t mean you can’t have a few weak moments where you question everything.”
Surprise takes over my face before I can stop it. He smiles.
And then he’s walking toward me like he’s about to hug me. I almost shove him away, but instead, for some reason, I just stand there as one of the scariest motherfuckers in existence wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.
I relax.
I breathe.
And then I speak my fear. “What if I can’t do it?”
“That’s not a current option.” He releases me and then thumbs my chin up with his finger. “But you’re Tex’s son… you’ll be fine. Maybe all you need is to try not to look so in love with the girl you’re about to marry, so you don’t look weak?”