“Or mine.” I side-eye him with intent.
He just rolls his eyes and watches Ash at work.
“They might not leave for the hotel in this car when they see the state of it,” I say.
“Oh, they will.” Ash smears the back seat with the rest of the red wine while I swing the car around in a U-turn. “Mrs. Doyle might be proper religious, but she’s a snob at heart. She won’t have them showing up to a five-star hotel in their old Toyota. She’ll go mad when she sees the car, but she’ll swing into action. She’ll get water from the garage and make the driver clean the egg off.”
“But she won’t know about the red wine or the surprise in the exhaust pipe until it’s too late.” Jay waggles his brows.
“I hate both of them, I truly do, but that won’t kill them or hurt their…” She sucks in a sharp breath, and her lower lip wobbles. “They won’t get poisoned by fumes, Dil, right?” Her worried gaze meets mine in the mirror as I near the church.
I hadn’t actually considered that, and the truth is, I don’t know. It’s a common prank around these parts, and I’ve never heard of anyone getting toxic poisoning. But that slut is pregnant, and the baby is innocent. “The hotel is close by, and the car should break down on the way, so I don’t think it’s a big concern. But I’ll send an anonymous message to the driver telling him there are potatoes in the exhaust pipe to be on the safe side.” I don’t want anyone’s death or illness on my conscience.
“Come on,” Jay says when I kill the engine. “Let’s get the fuck out of Dodge.”
A few cars driving past the church slow down as we get out of the car, but they don’t stop, and they don’t know who we are as we all have our hoods up, our bandanas covering most of our faces, and our heads down as we run off through the housing estate across the road, taking the shortcut at the end of the estate, which leads onto Lott Lane.
I tell the others to go on while I stop to message the driver via the contact form on his wedding car hire website, hoping it sends the message straight to his mobile phone. Then I run to catch up with my sister and best mate, and we cut through some fields, staying well away from the road and entering our farm through a loose fence at the rear of our property. Ash and I used to use it a lot when we were younger to sneak off the farm unnoticed.
We fist pump the air, laughing and hollering as we make our way to the Toxic Gods outbuilding where we burn our bandanas and change our clothes on the off chance any of the wedding party show up here with scowls and accusations.
“I would fucking love to be there when they come out of the church and see their car.” Jamie slaps his knee and grins.
“Or when she gets out of the car at the posh hotel with red wine stains all over the back of her dress.” I chuckle. “I wonder how long it’ll take someone to point it out?”
“Maybe we should sneak into the hotel later and watch the shit go down after the cake is cut.” Jamie howls with laughter at his pun, and it feels good to have done something. Maybe we’re petty assholes for trying to ruin their big day, but the cunts brought it on themselves. They’re the reason I’m trying to hold my heartbroken sister together.
A strangled sob rips through the air, instantly slicing through our amusement.
Jamie and I whip our heads around to the sofa where Ash is sitting. Tears are streaming down her face, and she’s doubled over, hugging herself and shaking.
“Shit, Ash.” I grab my sister onto my lap and fold her into my arms as she breaks down. “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not.” She hiccups over more sobs. “I could forget while we were trashing the car, but he’s still up there in that church saying his vows toher.”
“It’s gonna be okay, sis.” I smooth a hand down her hair. “It won’t always feel like this.”
I hope.
I mean, what the fuck do I know about how she’s feeling? The only feelings I’ve ever had for a bird are the ones in my dick, and they are fleeting and completely hormone driven. I have no clue what it’s like to be in love or to think you’re in love because, honestly, how much can you be in love at our age?
I carry Ash to the house, tucking her in bed, before I head back to the outbuilding to get ready for band practice.
“I didn’t realize she was still so upset,” Jamie quietly says as we tune up our guitars.
“She’s in bits, mate.” As I tighten my guitar strings it feels like I’m tightening the invisible strings around my heart. When Ash hurts, I hurt. It’s that simple.
“We should have beat him bloody,” he says in a clipped tone.
“I might yet,” I honestly reply.
“Dillon! I need you to get to the house quickly!” Ma’s panicked tone over the phone sends blood rushing to my head. In the background, there is lots of noise and multiple raised voices.
“What’s happened?” I ask, instantly removing my guitar and setting it down. I make a slicing motion across my throat so Jay, Conor, and Aaron know practice is finished for today. We’ve been at it for hours, and it’s late now anyway.
“It’s your sister.” Ma’s voice cracks.
My anxiety spikes instantly. Ash has been super quiet in the three weeks since the wedding, like she’s breaking all over again. “Is she okay?” My heart thuds painfully against my rib cage as I sprint out the door and race down the road towards the farmhouse.
