Just seeing his face was enough to light the fire within me, but when his skin touched mine…holy hell. That was enough to make me soar.
I will not give up. If Slade can survive, then so can I.
A chuckle pulls from within my throat and I don’t even bother to hold it back. I can only imagine what Maria would be thinking right now. On one hand, she’d be thrilled that there’s a smile on my face and that for the first time all day, I actually appear to be happy about all of this. But on the other hand, she’s not too stupid to figure out that this happiness is for Slade and I’m sure she realizes that it means I’m ready to put up a fight.
I guess she’s not the one who needs to be concerned about that anymore. I’m not Lucien’s or Maria’s problem now. I’m Marcus’.
A louder chuckle comes out. Marcus doesn’t know what the fuck he’s in for. I will not submit, I will not surrender, and I sure as hell will not be sticking around.
If I could, I’d already be out that door but since Slade and Shaylee’s little intervention, the security at this place has tripled and they’re all on edge. I’m sure the security has been told that it was an attempted kidnapping…if only they knew. I’m sure the majority of the guards would turn a blind eye and let me slip out if they knew what fresh hell I was about to endure, but then, they’re on either Marcus’ or Lucien’s payroll and money talks. It always talks.
I feel a familiar gaze piercing into the side of my face and I turn to find Luce, desperate for my attention. I hold up a finger and check the room. Lucien is laughing with a bunch of other rich dickheads who probably have girls in their basements, Maria is drunk and boasting about her wedding with her country club bitches, while Marcus is seen through the back windows, sucking on the end of a cigar.
Perfect.
I glance back at Luce and nod.
She instantly gets up and starts making her way over here but just as she’s about to reach the bridal table, a guard steps in front of her and blocks her way.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Luce demands, scowling up at the guy who looks like he must have spent a lifetime playing college football and then followed that up with a buffet of steroids every day for breakfast.
“The bride is not currently seeing guests.”
My brows shoot up and so do I. “Who the hell do you think you are speaking for me?” I growl at his back, making the guard spin around. “It’s my fucking wedding and I’ll see who I want when I want.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Mahony, but your husband has requested that you have a few moments to yourself to catch up with the events of the day. Weddings can be overwhelming.”
“Overwhelming would be my fist in your face,” I tell him, realizing that this guard is one of Marcus’ and not Lucien’s, meaning that by default, he’s now mine too. “Just remember whose payroll you’re now on.”
His back seems to straighten and I watch as he tries to hold his ground, confused by what actions he should take. I square my jaw in a challenge, letting him know that I’m the real MVP here. “Let her pass or find out first-hand what it would be like to have me as your enemy, and believe me, it’s not something you want. Just think about it. If I can get a guy like Marcus Mahony to marry me, imagine what else I could do.”
The guard swallows, standing there as he considers his options, and then finally he bows out. “My apologies, Mrs. Mahony,” he says, nodding his head and waving Luce past him before folding back into the side of the room to where he should be seen and not heard.
Luce strides past him with her head held high as though she’s some kind of tough bitch who can’t be fucked with. “Woah,” she says, stepping around the bridal table and dropping down into Marcus’ vacated seat. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend? What was that? Where did you learn to be such a bitch, Mrs. Mahony?”
“Call me that one more time and I swear you’ll be drinking soup out of a straw for the rest of your life.”
She laughs. “I can’t work out if slumming it in Aston Creek with guys like Slade turned you into this hard version of yourself, or if it was all the other shit.”
“All the other shit,” I tell her. “And believe me, there’s certainly no slumming in Aston Creek. That’s my home and I love it.”