Khane
Desiree was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen, despite the sadness seeping from her haunted gaze, dripping from her drooping face, and causing her posture to slouch. It appeared she was barely able to hold herself up. Her beautiful white dress and the tiara on her head made her look like a princess.
She was my heaven, the only force strong enough to snatch me from the well-managed hell I had chosen to live in. Once I had accepted that she returned my feelings, I became consumed, body and mind. She was art on this ever-moving canvas of life, the beam of light dancing across a wasteland charred black.
The flow of my thoughts raged on, even as I knew that I would never touch her again. Desiree was everything to a man like me, who had never had anything to look forward to but chasing the shadows of death. She had been and always would be the prettiest thing to ever bring joy to my limited vision.
She gave me a reason to dream. The sound of her voice was the only sound I cared about hearing. She was the reason I knew how to find love in my heart. Her brand of care stayed with me, flowing freely as it eased my restless soul. She was the reason I lived, my solace in a world of hate.
Before her, I didn’t care about dying, as playing Russian roulette with my life was a sport. She had saved me, and I had made her the center of my universe without her even knowing it.
Her cousin Mecca sat next to me, smiling and unaware that I had betrayed her before we were officially engaged. I had lost my brother’s trust, one of the most devastating things to happen to me. Yet, I believed with every beat of my heart that Desiree’s love had been worth it. How fucking sick was I to feel this way?
“Did you fuck my cousin?” Mecca’s whispered question drew my attention away from Desiree’s sad face. She was leaning into me, her small shoulder pressing into my arm. She stared me down, waiting for my answer and not the least bit intimidated by me. How the heck was I supposed to answer her question?
Mecca’s smiling gaze eased my tension. “Don’t worry, big man, Desiree already told me. And from the sour expression on your brother’s face, he knows too.”
“I told him,” I volunteered.
“You two are bold as fuck,” she said, giving me one of the meanest side eyes I had ever seen. “Why not keep the shit to yourself? You of all people know that by being in the kind of business we’re in, that there is shit you disclose and shit you don’t? Fucking your brother’s fiancée was something you should have kept to yourself. Fucking her cousin’s fiancé was shit she should have kept to herself. What the hell did you two think you would accomplish by telling us?”
She shook her head with a pitying smile on her face, not really wanting my answer. “There is shit you take to the grave, and your affair should have gone six feet under like a dead-ass stinking body.”
Mecca spoke her mind. I could tell as much from the moment she strolled into the hall and introduced herself like she was already a member of the family.
“This shit is supposed to be a woman’s happiest day, but it feels like I’m at a fucking funeral. I hate seeing my cousin this damn sad. I’m sitting her smiling for her. See, this is why you never let feelings get involved in this kind of shit. Reap the benefits of this chaos we breathe and live your best life.”
She was giving me a good tongue lashing and pep talk at the same time. I appreciated her candor because she reminded me of my brother, in female form. She continued with her relationship advice, making me smile for the first time in days.
She tapped my arm. “I’m telling you now, future husband, I want it all: the power, houses, cars, clothes. You’re not the stingy type are you?”
A chuckle escaped. Mecca was a breath of fresh air in this suffocating mess I had helped to create. While my brother wanted to kill Desiree and me, she had brushed off our affair as something we should have kept to ourselves. She wasn’t hurt by our betrayal.
“No. I’m not the stingy type,” I finally answered. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you have what you need or want, even your own personal sex warrior,” I added.
She pinched me in the shoulder playfully. “That’s what I’m talking about. I love the way you think, Khane. Now, I know whose eyes were on us at that restaurant. You keep hanging around with me, and you are going to be over that broken heart before you know it,” she continued.
There was nothing in the world that would mend my heart, except Desiree.
“Arjen Vallin, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I believe it was the third time the pastor had asked him the question. “Mr. Vallin?”
Mecca’s small shoulder was shoved into my arm again.
“What the hell is your brother doing?” she questioned, causing my heavy gaze to shoot up to the stage.
Arjen lifted a hand, pausing the pastor’s words and causing the room to grow eerily silent. “Will you give me a moment please?” he asked the pastor.
“What the hell?” Mecca glared at me for an answer like I could read my brother’s mind.
Arjen stepped away from Desiree and marched down the stage’s three steps to reach the floor level. My face grew tighter with each step he took in my direction, closing the distance. I peered up at him, dumbfounded, when he stood over me, his gaze heavy enough to weigh me down.
Mecca’s hand tapped incessantly against my forearm, but her face was aimed angrily at Arjen’s. Was he about to call Desiree and me out to the wedding guests? Most were members of the syndicate.
This wasn’t Arjen’s way. He was the one more suited to woo a crowd. He knew how to be political when necessary. Reluctantly, I took his hand when he reached out for mine. His firm grip captured my forearm and pulled until I stood.
The crowd gawked. Every eye was on us, necks stretching to get a better view as low murmurs made their way around the room.
“Follow me,” Arjen ordered. Reluctance caused me to take cautious steps. I was not going to help him embarrass Desiree if that was his aim. I would drag him off the stage before I allowed him to hurt her any more than she already was.