A tear slipped from her eye, and she choked it back. “I’m not feeling so brave right now.”
I wished I understood.
Emily cleared the roughness from her throat. “Maggie and I are supposed to testify against the man who violated both of us, three weeks from now.”
A tremor rolled through Maggie.
Violent in its path.
I clung to her tighter. Of course, I knew Emily was involved, but I hadn’t realized Maggie had been, too.
Melanie moved forward so she could take my free hand as well as Emily’s.
It brought the four of us into an unbroken circle.
Emily’s throat quivered, and I saw the fear there, as well, saw how deep it went, normally covered by her natural joy.
But right then, she pulled the veil back.
“It was supposed to be in the bag. No question of these men seeing justice.”
She met my eye. “Two of the women who were supposed to testify with us? Two women who’d been forced into a life of sex slavery? They disappeared last week.”
Horror spiraled through my being. A blade cutting directly into my soul.
Because I knew what was in their eyes.
True terror.
The fate of those women unknown but unfortunately obvious.
“Oh my god,” I whimpered, hardly able to stand when it finally became clear what the two of them had been through.
What Richard had implied.
“You mean…like what happened to Emily? I saw, Richard, on the news. That somethin’ bad happened to her. It’s horrible. I can’t…”
“Like that. Even worse.”
His words suddenly made full, complete, horrible sense.
Melanie squeezed our hands so tight that it sent a pulse of commitment running through the circuit. “Nothin’s happening to any of you. You hear me? It ends now. Here.”
I nodded frantically like my doing it would cause the threat to pass. “We’re behind you.”
And I didn’t know why I got the sudden, sinking feeling that I was right there with them.One Week LaterTwilight teased at the dwindling day, the bright, endless blue giving way to swashes of pink, cool air riding on the breeze and twisting through the quieted, peaceful mood.
The four of us were in the workshop, where we’d basically been for the last week, getting everything finalized for the wedding. Emily was singing low, perfectly in key without a lick of music to guide her, Maggie humming along.
I swayed to the beat of it, stuffing twinkle lights into mason jars and wrapping brown twine around their necks. They would be filled with fresh flowers on the day of the wedding and used as centerpieces for the tables.
We worked together.
Our hearts and our minds lulled.
Leaving our fears at the door in a hope that Emily and Royce could have a normal wedding. We’d made the conscious choice to focus on only this rather than the fear that lingered at the outskirts of our minds, choosing to shut out the stress and worry so we could focus on their special day.
On her beautiful day that I was determined to give her.
In a few days, the wedding guests would begin arriving.
A few distant relatives.
The last member of their band, Leif, his wife, Mia, and their children.
The members of Sunder and their families.
Plus, the members of Royce’s band that he’d recently been reunited with, A Riot of Roses.
The invitation list wasn’t huge. The number of guests was small enough so that everyone could truly feel a part of it, which was what Emily had wanted most.
Most were staying at the same hotel in Dalton where the engagement party had been held.
We had these last few days left to put together the finishing touches.
And truth be told, I was in my element.
Decorating.
Putting pieces together that would mark her special night.
Plotting out the flowers that would amplify the beauty and joy.
“Last one,” she said as she started to wind the twine around the jar.
“It’s gonna be beautiful,” I told her.
“Perfect,” she agreed.
It was.
I believed it.
Held onto the hope and the faith I could feel burning inside me.
It only intensified when I felt it.
That rush of energy that stirred through the air right before the sound of voices and footsteps reached out to touch my ears.
The guys were all suddenly there. Standing in the sliding doorway to the workshop we’d left wide open.
Royce moved directly for Emily. Wrapping her up, his tatted hands spread out to cover her tiny baby bump. “Hey, you.”
“Hi,” she whispered, leaning back into his touch. “Are you nervous?” she asked, tipping her head back on his shoulder so she could take in his expression.
His daughter, Anna, was flying in tonight. The child who I’d learned he’d been unjustifiably separated from since she was only a baby. The man sent to prison for attacking his sister’s attacker, his rights stripped away while he’d been there. The atrocious actions so unfair.
Thank God, they’d been reunited.
He’d gotten to see her a handful of times before they’d come to South Carolina to plan the wedding, and tonight they would be picking her up and she would be staying with them for the next week.