A hum rushes through the church and music begins to play.
“Thank fuck,” Doc whispers as we get to our feet.
Yelizaveta’s bridesmaids are, indeed, young, and hot. They come down the aisle like a Victoria’s Secret line-up and January shoots me a smile. “Enjoying the view?”
“You’re the hottest woman here,” I say truthfully. All the Russian chicks look like they could slit my throat and drink my blood without batting an eyelid.
The music changes and Yelizaveta appears with her father, a guy notably younger than the man waiting for her at the altar.
“Bianchi is gonna look decrepit as shit next to her,” Doc whisper-yells and Eli prods him so hard he yelps.
“She looks happy at least,” January says, and I have to agree. Despite the fact she’s marrying a guy old enough to be her grandad’s high school principal, Yelizaveta’s smile as she reaches Bianchi seems genuine. Small mercies.
The ceremony lasts an eternity, the priest making the most of the packed house to guilt trip us about not going to church more. I zone out like I always did during mass, stirring only to receive the Eucharist and do the shaking hands thing. Doc uses the opportunity to nibble January’s ear.
“You’re getting fucked to the ends of the earth after this, Tesorina. Me and the boys are gonna find all new ways to fill you with our cocks.”
“Jesus H Christ,” I mutter but it’s a pleasant enough distraction, picturing what we might do to January once the priest wraps everything up.
As Bianchi and Yelizaveta walk out arm in arm, we all breathe a sigh of relief. “No one’s getting kidnapped at this fuckin’ affair,” Doc whispers.
“Lucky them,” January says with a smile.
We filter out of the church and stand out front, stamping out frozen feet and breathing steam. Doc casts longing glances at the smokers clustered around the statue of some dead saint. “God, I want a cigarette.”
“Take some more acid,” I say sarcastically.
“I can’t or I’ll trip out.”
“So do more molly.”
“I’ll grind my teeth too hard.” Doc lets out a world-weary sigh. “You know, it’s a full-time job trying to stay fucked up at these things, Bassilotta.”
I roll my eyes.
Eli finishes a short conversation on his phone.
“Parker isn’t here,” he says, hanging up. “He must just be coming to the reception.”
“Asshole,” Adriano grumbles.
“Well, that checks out,” Doc says, hands in his pockets. “Can we get the fuck out of here and get burgers? I’m gonna die if I don’t eat.”
“Don’t be a child,” Eli says but he presses a hand to his middle. “Next time we’ll bring food in the limo.Bella, how are you feeling?”
January, tucked into Adriano’s side looks pale and lovely. “I’m okay, but—”
Her gaze flies over Eli’s shoulder, her mouth snapping shut.
“What?” Doc demands but I’ve already seen what’s shaken her.
January’s brothers and sister are walking toward us. It’s easy to tell the Whitehalls are siblings. They all have the same dark hair and doe eyes. The guys are good-looking but in that wet way that says they’d flinch if someone made a sudden movement. Margot, the sister, is in front, wearing a yellow dress that isn’t fancy enough for a wedding like this. Behind them, I see January’s stepmother. All three siblings are taller than her, but it doesn’t seem that way. She’s the one you look at. The one you know is in charge.
Adriano pulls January closer, but she eases away gently. “She needs a photo and I need to say hello.”
Reluctantly, Adriano releases her and him, Doc, and I move to stand close behind January like guards as Eli steps forward, hand outstretched. “Mrs. Whitehall.”
Her pretty taut face pulls into a smile. “Elliot.”
