twenty-five
Rowan
I’m back in front of the church where Dove and I sinned two nights ago to officiate our marriage before God.
Save for the president and his wife, who are about to arrive, everyone else is already in there, finding their seats. They’re all waiting for us, for me to take my place at the altar. I took a moment outside to make a call, but now I’m ready to go in and see the prettiest woman in the world walk down the aisle… and be mine.
I don’t know how the fuck I got here, but I’ve never felt more accomplished than I feel at this moment. None of the ranks, recognition, or riches I’ve worked for feel as rewarding as knowing I’ve got the woman I want. And nothing else will come close to knowing I’m the one she craves just as much.
I’ve won. I’ve fucking won.
I’m taking in the Gothic archways and the sharp towers of the church when behind me the screech of a car makes me lower my gaze back down. It’s a black van, and it’s followed by two more just like it. We specifically hid the wedding date from the media,not wanting any press around. So if this isn’t journalists and reporters, it only leaves me with one other thought.
The vans come to a stop, and a single person comes out. My body tenses and my pulse ramps up. I almost laugh to myself at the gravity of the situation—of course they’d show up early, wanting to take my last bit of happiness, wanting to shit on my dreams and drag me into that hole with them. Why wouldn’t they?
The man opens the back doors to the van then comes before me, folding his hands in front of him. I swallow, feeling my tux tighten around my lungs, making it hard to breathe. This isn’t even about me. If it weren’t for the wedding, I’d be fine with it. I’ve made my bed, and for Dove’s sake, I’m willing to lie in it. But not now, not when she’s in there and she’s waiting for me to make her mine.
Fuck.
“We can do this the hard way, or you can play nice and get inside,” the man says.
I step forward and shove my hand in my pocket, where I’m hiding a knife.
“Leave now, before I call in the others and you all die,” I bluff.
He knows I can’t do that. Not in the public eye. Not with so many government officials present. The smug face he makes tells me I’m right.
I sneer. “Two days from now. It’s what we agreed on.”
He shrugs, looking to the side. “Plans change, Commander. Salister needs you now. Get. In.”
I clench my jaw, staring him down while trying to come up with a way out. Cole and Hawke are in the church. I could dial Hawke’s number and he’d come out. But then… what? It would turn into a fucking bloodbath right here on the sidewalk. The police would come. Reporters. My angel’s perfect day would turn into a nightmare, and everything would go to shit.
Everything has already gone to shit the moment you came up with this plan.
“My wife is in there,” I tell him. “Give me one hour, and I’ll go with you then.”
He nods, smiling, making me want to push his head into the streetlight pole nearby. “Funny how you still think you’ve got the upper hand. We gave you the cure. Now you come with us. You know what happens if you refuse.”
Hunt her down until the day she dies.
And the only way I can stop them… is if I finish what Cole started when they faked his death. My only advantage is knowing they won’t kill me. They need me alive, even if just for a while, and working with the White House has ensured that. I know things they don’t, and that’s my true bargaining chip.
But knowing I’ll be forced to leave Dove at the altar fills me with a wave of indescribable rage. Just like that night in those fucking tunnels, when I thought she was nowhere to be found. When I thought I’d lost her.
The black presidential car approaches the church from the right, getting my attention. And all it takes is that one fraction of a second for this man to strike. I bend over from the punch in the gut, then push my body into his, trying to knock him down. Car doors fly open. Two men slam me into the van. I smash one’s nose with a headbutt and wrestle free.
Maybe I can fight them off quietly. Maybe I can stop this before it starts.
I can hear Maddox’s voice calling out for me in the distance.
But he won’t make it here in time, and neither will the secret service.
I’m stabbed in the side of my abdomen with something sharp.
It twists, living me breathless for just a second.
And in the moment it takes for me to acknowledge it, I’m already shoved into one of the vans.
