“I left your coffee on the counter and a bagel. You need to eat before you go in there, and maybe say a blessing since you’re about to be face-to-face with evil,” she calls out.
“I wish you were kidding,” I say dryly. I take a sip of the hot java and let the caffeine wake me. Chasing it down with a bagel, I leave the house to climb into my car. As I pull away from the two-story, brick house, I keep my mind on the future we’re building together. We settled into this house six months ago after selling my condo and her bungalow. The engagement was swift. I’ve never been a man to hesitate once he’s made up his mind, so I did what Beyoncé advised and put a ring on it a month into dating.
The streets are clear as I make the drive down to the courthouse. After parking underground, I make my way inside. Time speeds as I pass through the metal detector, and I’m guided into the courtroom. Everything moves in slow motion as Albany is led into court, leaning heavily on a cane. I don’t put it past him for it to be for show. He’s always been about smoke and mirrors.
I tense as the judge turns to look at him. He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold my breath. Blood rushes to my head and roars in my ears. His words are distorted by the noise in my own head.
“Guilty.”
Relief floods me. Alby clutches his chest and pitches forward. Screams and shouts fill the small space. I watch, stunned as he’s laid down on the ground by officers.
“Call an ambulance,” the judge barks.
“I can’t find a pulse,” an officer says shakily.
It’s a flurry of activity as he’s lifted onto a stretcher and rushed outside.
I did not see that coming. Stunned, I follow the officers’ directions as they lead us out of the courtroom and back outdoors. It’s a sad ending for a man who spent so much time on top. I wanted to see him pay for his crimes, but I didn’t wish him death. Conflicted, I make the journey home. He was my mentor for a long time. Forgetting the good to focus on the bad would only make life more painful. I want to lay my past to rest, so I can start my future properly.
Adora is sitting on the wrap-around porch in one of the white rocking chairs when I pull into the driveway. She stands.
“You saw?”
She nods. “They pronounced him dead.”
I close my eyes. “I figured as much. He didn’t look right.” My voice cracks.
“It’s okay to mourn.”
“He was a manipulative bastard,” I push the words through my clenched teeth.
She caresses my face. “Yes. But that wasn’t all he was.”
I fist her hair and press my lips to her. “I love you, Adora.”
“I love you, too. Be kind to yourself and grieve if you need to.” She nips my bottom lip. “After the wedding.”
I chuckle. “Your wish is my command, sweet one.”
“We should enjoy tonight. Tomorrow I’ll be whisked away, and we won’t meet face-to-face until we’re at the end of the aisle.”
“Then I’d better get my fill.” I lift her up in a bridal carry.
She squeals kicking her legs. “Weston!”
“Shhh. Daddy has plans for you tonight.”
There will be time to mourn later. I belong in the present time with the woman who’s agreed to manage my heart ’til death do us part.
About the Author
Shyla Colt is the sassy USA Today Bestselling author of the popular series Kings of Chaos and Dueling Devils M.C. This genre-hoppers stories feature three of her favorite things: strong females, pop culture, and alternate routes to happy ever after. Listening to her Romani soul, she pens from the heart, allowing the dynamic characters, eccentric interests, and travels as a former flight attendant to take her down untraveled roads.
Born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, this mid-west girl is proud of her roots. She used her hometown and the surrounding areas as a backdrop for a number of books. So, if you’re a Buckeye, keep an eye out for familiar places.
As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there's never a dull moment in her household.
She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company.