Page 62 of Carter

I’ve told them to wear spandex and be prepared to sweat.

When their faces looked back at me, etched with uncertainty, I told them there would be Michelangelo’s pizza and kegs of beer afterwards—to balance out the exercise part. They still looked a little unsure. Then I told them Mary was baking the cake.

That hooked ‘em.

I’ll be wearing white, the blushing virgin that I am. It’s a very short, spandex workout dress that I found online. It’s cute, funny, and I’ll be able to teach my class in it. I’m doing spin for the ladies; Carter is teaching CrossFit for the men.

Then we will celebrate the only part that matters to me, our ceremony. Afterwards, all the pizza, beer, and cake you can imagine.

I can’t wait.

15

Sasha

Carter asked me—let me rephrase that—Carter threatened me with a paddling to make me comply with going on the honeymoon before the wedding. He’s told me that with his new job, it’d be better to take off sooner rather than later; apparently the brotherhood’s busy season is coming up.

A honeymoon before the wedding isn’t conventional, but I’m okay with it. I guess.

Carter and I are flying via the family’s jet to a destination unknown. He’s even insisted that I wear a blindfold and earplugs during certain parts of the trip so that I’ll have no idea where we are until I step off the tarmac.

It’s thrilling.

But not as exciting as the suitcase of toys I caught him packing.

Yummy.

I can already picture myself, lying on a deserted beach, wearing a black string bikini, Carter massaging oil into my warm back.

Sigh.

Two workdays to go, then we are out of here. I can’t wait.

And I’ve got a little adventure planned for myself before we leave. One tiny stunt to pull before I become an official family member.

I’m going to prove something—but not that I deserve danger for the sake of adventure. The money from tonight’s job keeps five kids in college and keeps John’s program open while Brett’s estate is sorted. I know those kids. I know what that money means. And I also know I am fast enough to be useful.

16

Carter

It’s two days before our trip—the secret ‘honeymoon’ I have planned. Just one more quick mission, a couple of days at the gym, then we’re off.

John’s driving the van. I’m riding shotgun. It’s nice to spend a little time with my brother since I’ve been so busy between taking on my new role for the family and planning a wedding. We’re off to break into one of the private offices in the government building on West Street, do a little snooping. Find the ‘package’—a brick of cash that has been swapped for a brick of confiscated cocaine—and head home. In and out, thirty minutes tops upon arrival.

A piece of cake.

John and I are going over logistics. Having a nice ride, cracking a few jokes about the dumbasses we’re about to pull one over on. The politicians will be caught in a classic ‘who done it?’ with no foot to stand on, seeing as you can’t report the theft of drug money.

John had big plans for the money we’ll be pulling in tonight. He runs an operation in some of the rougher parts of the city to help teens stay off the streets and get job training or help with college entrances. Well, he doesn’t run it. He rarely has time to visit—he’s more of a silent benefactor, I guess you could say. And now, with Brett’s inheritance, John’s plans for those kids have grown. But while he’s waiting for Brett’s assets to get washed, he needs funding now.

We’re halfway to our destination, smooth sailing, but now, John’s suddenly slamming on the brakes as he yells, “What the hell is that?”

I look into the headlights and see a tiny gray tabby kitten darting across the road.

“What is that? A baby raccoon?” John asks, disgust in his voice. My brother—the animal lover.

“I think it’s a kitten,” I say. “What should we do?” By this point the poor little thing is sitting on the double yellow line, just looking up at us, his big, shiny green eyes reflecting in the headlights.