CHAPTER 37
ASPEN
Part of me hopes he’s not there. The bigger part of me can’t wait to rain on his parade. We have been over this so many times I dream about it at night. However, dreams are one thing, but when they change into a living nightmare, it does kind of alter things a little.
If Blade wasn’t beside me now, I couldn’t go through with it.
The moment I pulled on the black dress this morning, my world shifted back to my former life. The woman I was is sitting with me now. Delilah Grimes is a mere memory. Aspen Costello has risen from the grave to seek justice for her death.
We pull up on a red carpet, and I note the beautiful white arch of flowers trailing down the entrance to the church.
It reminds me of my wedding day, almost a carbon copy of this one.
The freaking church is the same and they probably have the same red carpet. The last time I stepped foot on it, my shoes were white satin and my dress the most expensive money can buy.
Flash opens the door and peers in with a smile. His usual leather replaced with a smart black suit. I hid my amusement when I saw them earlier, dressed in their disguise, because I amused to seeing them dressed in leather and attitude, not like the freaking mafia.
Blade and Razor caused my head to spin when I saw them together, almost a mirror image of one another save for Blade’s jagged scar on his face.
Where Blade gazed at me with possession, Razor’s smile was brief and filled with pain, and I’m worried about him. Sunday left yesterday, and he watched her leave with no expression in his cold, dead eyes. I almost lost it when she faced him, hope flaring in her wavering smile as she said her goodbyes. All she got was a brief nod of his head and a low murmur of good wishes. My heart broke for her—and for him because he may wear the mask of indifference well, but I’ve been with Blade long enough to know when they are fighting an inner battle.
Blade murmurs huskily, “Wait there. I’ll help you out of the car.”
He leaves, and I catch my breath as the three Reapers form a guard. When Blade’s hand reaches in, my fingers close around his with a sense of reassuring familiarity.
I may have been married before, but my real husband was always waiting for me, and this time it will be happy ever after. I have no doubt about that.
As I step into the daylight, I waste no time and pull on the dark shades. As I take a deep breath, I relish the pure air. It’s as if we are the only people on the planet who survived Armageddon.
The aftermath of a battle. Silence, with only nature witnessing our presence. No other human life, save for the cops on the checkpoint, who are now in the distance.
I shiver inside as I take a deep breath, conscious we are not alone. Snipers are undoubtedly studying our every move, hidden from view. Secret service, assassins, hit men. I wouldn’t put it past any of the entities to be present here today because of one man. Gideon Fox.
Public enemy number one. The man of the hour and soon to be the most talked about man on the planet.
Blade and Razor stand beside me on either side, Flash walking behind us. The church door is closed as it celebrates the wedding inside. We are late to the party on purpose.
As grand entrances go, I almost wish I was one of the congregation instead, watching this play out like a movie, not knowing what will happen next.
We reach the top of the steps, and a shiver of apprehension passes through me. This must work. Surely it can’t go wrong.
We hover outside for a short time before Flash says in a low voice, “Now.”
With a deep breath, I wait as Razor pushes the door open, and the sound of the priest’s voice hits me from all angles.
The air inside the church is cool, slightly musty, and reverent. My heels click on the flagstone floor as we make our way inside.
A few people at the back turn as they sense the disruption, but my darkened gaze falls to the front of the church, two figures standing facing one another, the priest gazing on with solemnity.
It begins as a sweet ripple of conversation, a few murmurs, a shift on the pews as they angle their heads for a glimpse of the strangers.
I’m guessing we make quite the intrusion. The men walking with me are not to be ignored. Magnificent beasts, each one of them—mess with them at your peril.
Our entrance has been planned to the last detail, carefully timed for this moment and once again, it strikes me how well these men plan a mission, as the priest utters the words, “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Low murmurs, an uncomfortable silence causes my voice to shatter it like machine gun fire.
“I do.”
