Blanche sighs and kicks the grass beneath her feet. “But you don’t want to be a Goldman anymore.”
“I don’t.” Dottie wraps her arms around Blanche’s waist and rests her head against her ample bosom. “I want to be Dottie Kraus. Wife. Daughter and sister-in-law. Mother.” Her voice catches and I feel my throat start to constrict. “I don’t know if I can ever be a mother, the damage…but I can be Ezra’s wife. I can be Judi and Aaron’s daughter-in-law. Zeppo’s sister-in-law. Auntie to his and Ruthie’s babies.” Stepping back, she wipes under her eyes and gives us a trembling smile. “I can be a kick-ass auntie to your children and spoil my nieces and nephews rotten. I can be so many things…but I don’t want the Goldman of my past to hold me back like a noose around my neck.”
Rose cups Dottie’s face and uses her thumbs to wipe more tears as they fall. “You can be anything you want to be, but you will always be our sister.”
“Thank you. I’m sorr—”
“Don’t you dare fucking apologize,” Blanche spits out, avoiding eye contact with us. I slip my arm around her and rest my head on her shoulder. She squeezes me back, then shoves me with a grunt. Laughing, I throw myself at Dottie and Rose and hug them tight.
Monty, who’s been staying back as part of the security detail with us, makes his way over to me. “Sweetling, you, ok?” He glares at Blanche, so I pop up on my toes and kiss him soundly.
“I’m perfect.”
“Hmm.” He hums against my lips. “Yes, you are.” Resting his forehead against mine, we stay like that for several minutes,soaking up the relaxing atmosphere of the estate. “I’m sorry, Sophia.”
“Why?” I attempt to move back, but he holds me right where I am.
“Yak and I…we can’t give you a wedding like this. Our relationship is unconventional and not legally recognized. The ceremony in the synagogue, the lavish reception, I don’t know if we can—”
“Silly man.” I interrupt him, brushing my lips against his with a smile. I open my eyes and find him staring at me intently. A shiver runs down my spine at the promise in his gaze. Passion. Trust. Love. “We could do a private ceremony if we really needed it. But I don’t need papers to know we are eternal. The fabric of our relationship, of our love, is so tightly woven it can never be unraveled.”
“Soph, baby, I love you, so damn much.”
“I love you so darn much too.” He chuckles softly, then presses his lips to mine until my sisters yell for us to get a move on.
SUVs loaded with our security details, I sit in one with Rose, Blanche, and Dottie. Monty is in the passenger seat and Noah drives. Vandy, Bailey, Dalisay in one behind us, and the OG BAB’s in another one three vehicles back. I thought it was a bit much to have seven vehicles, but I figured the men might be overprotective, but they know what they’re doing. No one else batted an eye at our entourage.
Pulling out of the estate, we drive on the two-lane road for a few minutes, my sisters and I chatting excitedly about the potential of the wedding space. I notice a subtle shift in Monty’s posture. He taps on his phone, but I can’t see his face to know what’s wrong. A thick tension thrums through the air, carried on acurrent between the two of us. Glancing at me over his shoulder, his attempt at a smile fails miserably.
“You beautiful ladies buckled in back there?” His gaze flicks over my head. “Blanche, buckle your seatbelt.” The steel threaded through his tone has all of us on alert now.
“Monty?”
“Everything is going to be fine, Sweetling. Just stay buckled and keep your head down for me.” His phone rings and he answers it quickly. “Yes. Three. Yes.” He disconnects the call, shifts in his seat and produces one of the guns he keeps on his person, and rolls down his window. Noah’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, then the vehicle starts a controlled swerve back and forth.
Metal on metal sounds behind us, and the four of us turn in our seats to see one of our security vehicles careen off the road and start flipping. Tears fill my eyes…I don’t think they can survive that. Gunshots surround us despite the fact we’re still moving along the road. Blanche places her hand on the back of my head and pushes, shoving my face toward my lap. Dottie slides her arm over my back and huddles next to me. I’m having a hard time breathing, but I don’t make a sound, not wanting to distract Noah or Monty.
I jump with every bullet that impacts our vehicle, grateful that none of them penetrates the frame. Monty curses, hanging out of the passenger window, firing round after round. I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to watch if something happens to him.
Dottie starts humming, then she’s singing and I focus on her words, the cadence of her voice, letting it drown out the sounds of chaos and violence. We take a sharp right, sending me into Dottie’s side, then we pick up speed.
“We’re on the highway now, Soph. We’re safe.”
“Monty?” I ask, hating how small and childlike my voice sounds as a heavy silence starts to penetrate my consciousness.
“I’m right here, baby. Not a single scratch. How are you doing?”
“I peed myself,” I admit shamefully.
“I think I shit myself a little, so no worries, Sophia.” A surprising bark of laughter escapes me at Noah’s assurance. My fingers begin to shake, then my arms, my stomach squeezing in on itself, my vision swimming, before my teeth clatter.
Time passes but I cannot seem to focus on anything going on around me. Suddenly we’re stopping, and I’m pulled roughly from the vehicle and into Yak’s secure embrace. Monty kept us safe. And now Yak will find the men who attacked us and make them pay. I close my eyes and rest my head against Yak’s broad shoulder. The murmur of voices filter in and out, but I don’t try to make sense of any of it.
Water beats down on my face, and I jerk as I come back to the present. I’m naked, and so are Yak and Monty, sandwiching me between them. I rest my head back against Monty’s firm chest and meet Yak’s frantic gaze. His eyes dart rapidly over my face, down my body, then over Monty’s. He cups my face, slams his mouth on mine and invades with his tongue. His taste is like the paddles of a defibrillator, shocking my heart into a steady rhythm.
“Fuck,” Yak breathes out harshly, bringing me into his chest. I hear Yak and Monty kiss, and peace finally descends over my body.
Yak dries me off after Monty washes my body. They dress me in one of Yak’s T-shirts and Monty’s tall socks, and one of their boxers. Bundled on the couch in the living room with Monty, Yak runs his palm over the top of his head angrily.
