When Maksim’s phone dinged, I knew our time was up. “Rain check on the hunt?” I teased.
He nodded. “Once they’re disposed of, I’ll make sure my family g-gets the hell out of here.”
“I look forward to it.”
Maksim brought his lips to mine. After a brief lip-lock, he started for the kitchen where I knew the backstairs were to the basement and the torture room.
As I tried regulating my jangled nerves, Kira appeared in the doorway. “Why don’t we get out of here while the guys play?”
An absurd laugh bubbled from my lips. “Play?”
She shrugged. “After all these years, it’s the way I deal with the fact my brothers are killers.”
“I think I might need to adopt that myself.”
“While the boys play, we can go into the city to a bridal shop.
“Shouldn’t we wait until Mila’s wedding is over?”
“She’s the one who suggested it,” Kira replied.
I laughed. “Okay, let’s do it.”
After sliding her arm through mine, Kira said, “Will you promise to tell me all about the hunts you go to?”
“Everything except the parts involving your brother.”
Kira giggled. “I think I can handle that.”
And with my heart overflowing, I followed Kira out into the sunshine.
EPILOGUE: MAKSIM
With a newly tailored tux, I stood in one of the preparation rooms of St. Michael the Archangel Russian Orthodox Church. One of the many wedding planners was currently sticking a blood red rose in my lapel. He was a jumpy man whom I could only imagine had gotten wind that I was co-pahkan of the city’s Bratva.
Scattered across the room, my brothers were getting the same flower treatment. Mr. Jumpy held out the final boutonniere to me. “This belongs to the Best Man.”
Nodding, I turned around and searched the room. With his head buried in his iPad, Sammy sat outfitted in his custom tux while concentrating on a video game. “Sam, you’re up, buddy,” I called.
After he jerked his head up, he tossed the iPad onto the couch beside him before popping up. When it came to picking a Best Man, there was no way in hell I could’ve picked between my brothers. Each one meant too much to me, and I’d already been tormented enough in life by the whole birth order fuckery.
In the end, there was a simple choice before me, and that was Sammy. It was worth it to see the absolute joy on his face whenI asked him. It was just after I’d gotten his permission to marry Sarah.
“Stay really still, okay? I don’t want you getting poked with the needle,” I instructed.
To my amusement, he rolled his eyes at me. “Like I haven’t ever worn a bootyneer.”
I didn’t even bother correcting him. Instead, I reached for my phone.
Your brother just dissed me for telling him to be still for his ‘bootyneer.’
Instead of Sarah texting back, it was Kira.
Your bride is getting into her dress and can’t reply.
Could you give me a preview?
Absolutely not! It’s bad luck. And the two of you have had enough of that.
