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Beta'd by HollettLA
Sorry for the delay. I'm very sick, and I usually don't care . . . but I feel like genuine shit. So, if you don't have anything nice to say, or you plan on flouncing - which would be sad because ch27 is like whoa - don't review. Thank you.
Due to some really nasty bitches out there . . . I think people refer to them as trolls? I am no longer going to read Anon reviews. They will blindly get deleted since FFn no longer gives me the option to disable them. I apologize if this poses as an inconvenience, as most of you share your views and/or praise. And I truly do appreciate all reviews . . .. But to those of you who wish to insult me, don't be a coward, log-in! LOL.
So nervous about this chapter . . . Blah. Whatever. Enjoy!
Riders on the Storm
Chapter Twenty-Six: Titanium
Santino (Sonny) POV
Kylie was all smiles when she showed up at the apartment. Gio was with her, and I was being a sport—letting them hang out here by themselves later, when Maggie and I head to Eclipse. I didn't like it, and I told them not to fuck on my bed. I was adamant about that shit, told Peto I'd beat his ass if he did, although I probably wouldn't.
Earlier in the day, my sister was happy to take Maggie shopping, dragging Gio along.
While they were gone, I drove around looking for Dame again.
Yesterday, Maggie and I went everywhere—any place I could think of, trying to find him to no avail. We'd done the same Thursday night, coming up empty as well. He went off the grid, and I hope he's safe. But I wasn't about to go above and beyond to find him. The kid doesn't wanna be found.
No news is good news, or so I'm told.
If anything happened, we'd know about it.
He's fine.
All I'd have to do is call the cell company . . . my buddy at AT&T, if I really wanted to find him.
It was some crazy shit—what happened—but Dame looked mortified when it all came to light. Mom thinks Lauren is the reason he's the way he is. I don't know. I can't imagine being in his shoes, and I can't remember if I would have been ready for sex at fourteen? I only lost my virginity a year later, but . . . I don't know. Then again, any sex I'd ever had that wasn't with Katie, or now with Maggie, it didn't mean a fucking thing. To me, love makes a big difference. Everything else—every other broad I was ever with—meant nothing.
And everything that concerns broads means the world to my brother. He takes that shit to heart—whether he loves them or not. He's never had a casual anything—encounter or relationship.
Either way, I felt for him, but I was also still angry with him and thought he was doing a lot of this shit for attention.
I called my parents this morning and Dad said that Mom was sick—had a cold. They weren't doing anything today besides chillin' in bed, which was the same shit they did yesterday, too.
It—Damion, finding him—was going to fall on my shoulders.
I told my father that my brother needed to cool down. He won't be away forever. He needs time, whatever, and my life wasn't going to stop just because of him.
Not anymore.
I was tired of playing Damion's keeper.
"Did you catch the Giants game last night?" Gio asked. We were in my living room, sipping beers while Kylie helped Maggie get ready.
"I didn't," I admitted. "I know the score, though."
He nodded, sighing and looking around. "Katie's getting big."
"She is," I said, wondering how much longer the girls would be.
"How long until—what's her due date again?" he asked.
"December 18th. She's in the home stretch—whatever, like twenty days." I shrugged, wishing it was that day already. I get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it.
He grinned. "Kylie and I are going to be godparents. How cool is that?"
I smiled back. "Very fucking cool." When Katie asked me which brother should be the godfather last month . . . I didn't hesitate to say Gio.
"Do you guys have names?" He sipped his Heineken.
"There's one I'm pushing," I sighed, looking down to my watch. Regardless of any beef he has with Dame at the moment, Anthony was going to meet me at Eclipse at 8:30. It was already nearly 7:30. We were cutting it close. "And I'm not going to mention it because…"
"You don't wanna jinx it?" he laughed, his cell phone vibrating, and then his lips drew a tight-line.
"What's wrong?"
"My mother is texting me—wants me at her house." He shook his head. "It sucks—being torn. All I wanna do is spend this time with Ky, but I know I should be with my family, too? My father's taking us bowling tomorrow." He rolled his eyes. "You and Maggie should come—"
"Nah . . . If Maggie wants to tag along…" I wasn't going to stop my girl from chillin' with her friends, but the more mileage between Aro and me the better.
"I remember her…from when I went to Bishop Ford?" He cocked a brow.
"Maggie? What about her?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. I guess she just doesn't seem like your type?" Gio seemed nervous.
"Why is that?" I asked, leaning toward him. "What's my type? If this is because of your sister—"
"Nah, man. I get it. Shit didn't work with you two. I'm just saying…I don't know Maggie. They treated her like a fucking pariah, though. No offense. She was like the quiet girl in the back who ate her hair, nose always in a book. Kids used to tease the fuck out of her. I hope she's having a better time at school now."
I frowned. "Me too. She doesn't talk about school that much." I didn't elaborate, seeing him go for his cell again.
He stared at his phone. "Unless there's something wrong." Gio placed it in his pocket. "Mom's probably just lonely."
"I hear she's often lonely . . ." I didn't know what to say.
He pursed his lips, his eyes widening as he stared behind me, looking like he was stuck on stupid.
Turning my head, I saw Maggie, which also made my jaw drop. She was wearing very high heels, my eyes trailing from her feet on up. Her legs looked very long, her thighs meaty and perfect. The black sequined dress stopped well above her knees, and her breasts . . . they nearly spilled over the top of it. There were no sleeves or straps, and all I saw was skin. Maggie's hair was down and curly, like the night we chilled for the first time. "Wow," I said.
Her face blazed red.
"Right?" Kylie shouted. "I'd fuck her." She slapped Maggie's ass.
"Easy," I laughed.
"Doesn't she look hot, Gio?" Kylie stared at her boyfriend, and I hoped he wasn't dumb. That was a trick question.
Gazing back at him, he wouldn't even look at Maggie, and he just shrugged—which was smart of him.
Personally, I was having mixed feelings. My girl looked too fucking good, so good only I should be privy to the sight.
"Santino…" She took another step toward me.
I widened my arms, welcoming her on my lap.
"How do I look?" She smiled.
"Amazing." I held her cheek, nipping her jaw—wanting to bite it and whisk her off into the bedroom.
She giggled. "I'm glad you like it."
"Are you kidding?" Kylie snorted, plopping down onto Gio's lap. "It's like he's a starving cartoon and you're the juicy rump roast—the mirage in the desert."
I barked out a laugh, standing Maggie up and following. "We gotta meet Ant . . . Don't go into our bedroom."
Kylie rolled her eyes, waving us away. "We're not animals—"
"Yeah, right," Maggie and I said in unison.
"We're gonna watch a movie." Kylie kissed Gio's reddened cheek. "We also—last night we talked." She turned to look back at me. "I told Dad and Mom this morning . . ." They were both smiling wide as Maggie squeezed my arm, excited. Whatever Kylie was going to say, Maggie knew already. "Gio's going to transfer, and I'm going to reapply to NYU for the fall."
"What?" I was so happy, I grabbed Kylie from Gio—to hug my baby sister and twirl her around. "You're not leaving?"
She hugged me around the neck. "Nope."
I set her down. "If it's what you want."
"I ran away to Texas, man," Gio said. "I wanna come back, too."
"It's what I want." Kylie went over to embrace Maggie. "You'll knock 'em all dead."
"So will you guys . . . at NYU." I grabbed Maggie's coat and helped her into it. "Geez." I was so happy things wouldn't change too much. "Mom and Dad—"
"I thought Daddy was going to cry," Kylie giggled.
"My dad's ecstatic, too." Gio nodded.
"We're hoping to get an off-campus apartment."
"I wouldn't push it," I told Kylie, taking Shaky's hair out from her coat. "We need to go."
We waved and Maggie grabbed my hand as we left the apartment. Once again, I'd rented a limo. Sadly, I wouldn't be getting laid in this one either, having to meet Ant so soon.
We had champagne on our way to toast our night, and I gave Maggie a brief rundown of things. There was no way I was leaving her alone while Ant and I had that sit-down. And she assured me that whatever was said, she wouldn't repeat—not that she'd fully comprehend what we were discussing anyway.
The line to get into Eclipse was actually pretty fucking long, seeing as it was a Saturday night. That always happens, but tonight . . . I wasn't going to let it get to max capacity, and we had the metal detectors out. I wasn't about to let some shit pop off while Maggie was here.
She had wide eyes as we left the limo. "Wow…it looks nice."
I grinned, placing my arm around her. In the limo, I also told her more about the club—that there would be actual naked women walking around. I think she was embarrassed by the concept alone, blushing and ducking her head. And I didn't know what to expect when we got inside. As I checked her coat, she bopped to the beat of the current song playing, and I dug it. Like always, Maggie was going to go with the flow.
With her arm tucked in mine and me practically shielding her from sight, we went to the booth toward the back I'd reserved for us. Quite a few "family" members were here, including Caius, Nunzio, and Mike. My crew was here, and they all lifted their drinks as we passed them.
"It's like Goodfellas...when Henry takes Karen to the club, only louder," she whispered in my ear.
"Christ. You're adorable." I landed a loud smooch on her cheek. "When'd'ju watch that?"
"Kylie and I watched it last week." She slid into the booth.
I followed, sighing once my arm was around her. "What do you want to drink?"
"I take that back. It's not like that movie."
"What?" I smiled.
Maggie kept her eyes on her lap. "They really are naked."
I had to chuckle and kiss her cheek again. "You're too fucking cute. Have I told you that lately?"
She gave me a toothy grin. "Not since...a minute ago. I'd rather be sexy, though."
"You're cute, sexy...I could go on and on. But how 'bout you tell me what you wanna drink?" I kissed those lips, stopping before I got carried away.
"I don't wanna get drunk, and you already had beer." She scrunched that little button nose that looks like a tulip. "I'll have more champagne?"
"If that's what you want." I kissed her palm. "You're okay here . . . You can look around. They don't mind if you look. You know? That's why they're here."
"Um." She swallowed loudly, taking a peek along the floor. I followed her line of sight right to Layla, who was already waving and coming over with a bottle of Cristal.
"Hi!" Layla shouted. "You must be Maggie!"
"I am." She looked to me, cautious.
"This is Layla." I gestured to her.
"Oh." Maggie put her hand out. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Layla cleared her throat, quick to serve the champagne.
And it was awkward as fuck. Not for me—I didn't give a shit. But after having worked with Layla for a while, I noticed she was acting weird, and Maggie had stiffened. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," they both said.
"He was talking to me," Maggie informed Layla.
I pursed my lips, liking how her claws came out, although I shouldn't get a kick out of that shit, and I was speaking to my girl—not Layla. "Thank you," I said.
She smiled, putting a hand up and backing away. "If you need anything . . ." Then she was gone, off to another table.
I turned to Maggie. "What was that?"
She flipped her hair, sipping her champagne. "She likes you."
I chuckled. "We work together—"
"And she likes you." She turned back to me. "I mean, I trust you—"
"It doesn't sound like it." I frowned. "What do you have to be worried about?"
She narrowed her eyes at the dancer on stage, but I could tell she was doing so to avoid my question.
"Hey…" I turned her chin back to me. "You're it for me. I don't know what I have to do to prove it to you."
"I'm being silly." She grinned.
"When we're married—both of us wearing rings—I don't know." I shrugged. "I bet there'll be less to worry about." I mentioned it to gauge her reaction, marrying me.
She smiled wider. "I hope that day comes."
I swore my heart stopped for a second. "Well, um, when you're through with college and you're sure…" I was a little eager, hoping I wouldn't have to wait that long to call her my wife.
"After college?" Her face fell. "Why after? Whenever you decide to ask . . ." She trailed off, guzzling the rest of her drink.
I ran my hand up her thigh, squeezing it. "I'd marry you tomorrow if you were ready."
She coughed, choking on the liquid. "You would?"
"We wouldn't be living in sin—your dad might accept us." I threw that out there. "And maybe Layla does have the hots for me, or whatever. But if we were married—that'd take me off the market permanently."
"Right." She nodded.
"Will you…?" I swallowed, my mouth dry, while I also turned my whole body to face her. "Will you marry me?" I palmed her cheeks, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.
She was breathing heavily, about to hyperventilate, as she brought her hands up to mine. "Yes . . . I will." Her eyes filled with tears.
I laughed my ass off, too fucking happy in this moment. "I love you." My mouth claimed hers, and it was like the club disappeared.
It was Maggie and me, me and Maggie, and nothing—nothing could keep us apart. It was like I wanted to crawl inside her and live—be that close, love and cherish her until the day I died. It's a scary feeling, loving someone to that extent—the way I love her.
"Excuse me?"
I smiled against Maggie's lips, hearing Ant.
"Sorry to interrupt."
"You're not." I cleared my throat, sitting up and pulling Maggie with me. "Have a seat."
He slid into the booth opposite us as he snapped his fingers for a drink. "You guys want anything?"
"We're good," I said. "Have you seen my brother?"
He grimaced, shaking his head. "I'd rather not discuss that."
I nodded, since I was sick of talking and hearing about my brother, too. But I doubt anything could get me down in this moment. "So…refresh my memory on the play we're making with Pyramid Pharmaceuticals." I left my arm draped around Maggie, yanking her into my side.
Anthony stared at her.
"It's cool," I said.
He nodded as the waitress brought his beer. "We own 400,000 shares…propriety at sixty cents. We trade on bulletin board—OTC."
"OTC?" Maggie whispered.
"Over the counter," I answered, facing her.
"Oh." She relaxed back, nodding like she had a clue.
Anthony grinned at her before he continued. "Does this interest you at all?"
She shook her head no. "I was just curious."
I laughed, facing Ant. "You don't know shit just yet either."
He rolled his eyes at me, and he's been doing a piss-poor job at the brokerage. My cousin—either feels he has to be a hard ass because of his sexual orientation, or he's been watching too many movies, like Maggie—but he's pushing the brokers too hard, threatening, being too fucking persistent when he calls potential clients. "You told me to make you money. That's what I'm doing."
I sighed, sitting up. Maggie wasn't forgotten, but Anthony needed to listen to me—take me seriously. "When you're bleeding a guy, you don't squeeze him dry right away. Contrarily, you let him do his bidding suavely. So, you can bleed him the next week, and the week after that at a minimum. Chill the fuck out."
What they're doing is targeting senior citizens, saying they can make quick cash by getting involved—barely explaining shit. He's making some money, but I don't need any of those fuckers running to the FTC—Federal Trade Commission—and I mean our brokers, too.
"Pyramid Pharm is at 80 . . . When are we dropping the stock?" he asked.
"You'll know that when you need to know that." I sipped my drink.
He stared at me for a beat too long.
"Was there something else you needed to discuss?" I raised a brow.
"Do you?"
"Nope," I said.
He widened his arms. "I came all the way up here just for you to tell me that?"
"You thought I'd confer with you over the phone?" I chuckled. "You know not to talk shop on your cell, correct?"
"What's wrong with your phone?" Maggie asked.
I smirked at my cousin. "Feds try to wiretap our phones and shit. It's best—if we're going to speak about business matters—that we use pay phones, if we can find one, or we stick to prepaid cells, throw-away phones."
She nodded, and I looked back to Ant.
"Be easy—I get it." He nodded. "I don't do shit on the wire . . . Is that all?"
I'd also heard some shit about a Porsche being lifted from the La Bella Italia parking lot. Someone who fit Anthony's description stole it. My father was pissed about it, and we had no idea who was truly behind it. "You know anything about that Porsche?"
He looked around, leaning toward me. "There's a guy in Newark—I met him through Dame, actually. He's paying big bucks for high-end vehicles."
My jaw dropped. "Dame boosted that for Jersey? For dirty Jerz?"
Anthony winced. "It was like a one-time thing. It's not like anyone over here is helping us make any money—with all due respect, I mean. We made a couple dollars . . ."
I pointed—just away from me. "Go . . . you wanna get mixed up with that? We got our own guys who do that shit, too. In fact, talk to your grandfather, Ronnie. You'd make more money with him, sending whips overseas and shit. If two-bit hustling interests you? I'll give Ron a heads up."
"Relax." He put his palms up.
"I'm giving you the opportunity to make bank...in the long run. You want quick cash . . ." I shook my head, although I'd done some questionable shit, too, when I was his age. "You working for those fuckers across the bay . . ." I laughed without humor, trying not to lose my temper. "Are you fucking kidding me? You steal from your own just to—"
Maggie stopped me from flying across the table.
"Get outta hea before we have serious problems." My first instinct was to beat his ass. If it was anyone else, I would have . . . but like my brother, my cousin is just getting used to being involved. Ant isn't even running with a crew, but it sounds like he'd enjoy it. Before they had their falling out the other day, I bet they were conspiring—in it together in some way.
Anthony was fast to scurry out of the booth.
"I can't believe this," I said to myself, and I wasn't sure if I should inform my father. He'd be very upset. Plus, my parents are torturing themselves over that Thanksgiving shit. Dad didn't need to know.
"Shhh." Maggie kissed my cheek. "Just calm down." She rubbed my back. "Whatever it is . . . I'm sure there's a solution."
I grinned, looking up to her. "It's not that simple. They do some stupid shit, get pinched, and then it puts us all in jeopardy."
"Pinched?"
"Arrested." I pushed her hair off her shoulder. "The F.B.I., they try to cut deals, falsely paint dudes into corners, just to get them to spill, rat on someone."
"Your mom told me," she whispered. "That if anyone ever approached me, if they had a badge?"
"Go on." I was smiling and ever so curious as to what my mother might have said to Maggie. It surprises me every time Maggie brings up something Mom has told her. Like, she's looking out for the both of us behind the scenes. Maybe I didn't have enough faith in Maggie, thinking I couldn't tell her some important and yet heavy facts.
Maggie reached into her wristlet. "She gave me this." She handed me my uncle's business card. "She told me not to say a thing, no matter what they said, and to call this number."
"Well, you know my uncle."
"He's a lawyer," she said. "Your mom said that the F.B.I. lies and stuff."
"They do . . . Once we're married that'll change, too. Meaning, they couldn't make you testify against me. Anything I'd tell you, it'd be between us, no one else."
"Yeah." She blushed again, showing me her cell phone. "Bella said that if I got into any other trouble, to call this number." It was Aro's name. "I know you don't like him, so..."
"You call me." I kissed her cheek. "Aro and I, we have beef over other shit. You know that already . . . but if something happened, he'd be there for you. But I'd rather you called me."
She nodded.
"I'll do everything to keep you safe, even if that means not sharing something with you."
"I want you to share with me." She placed her hand on my thigh. "I may not understand, some things might scare me, but—" Maggie stopped, searching my eyes.
And when she looks at me like that . . . I get lost.
I leaned into her, for those lips, and I stopped short.
"Sonny!" Caius shouted, walking over. He didn't even bother to ask, just took a seat. "How you doin'?"
"Decent," I said; meanwhile, Maggie agreed to marry me. I was pissed at my cousin and brother but elated about us getting married, and I also hate Caius, which makes me hate his presence . . .
"I remember this one from Halloween. How you doin', hon?" He reached to shake her hand.
Maggie looked to me for instruction.
I raised a brow, tilting my head, and she shook his hand. "I'm great, sir. How are you?"
"Good." He nodded, sitting back. "You came to check out the zoo? Look at the animals?" he chuckled.
"I was just about to show her the office." I pointed. It was his cue to leave.
"Just stoppin' by to say wassup." He slapped his hand to mine. "Have a good time tonight." He left the booth, toasting his scotch to Maggie.
I sighed, staring at her beautiful face as I dug my phone out of my pocket.
"Who are you calling?" She saw me place it to my ear.
I just smiled at her, and my buddy picked up on the first ring. "Hector?"
"My dude . . . Sonny, that you?" My father has his jewelry guy in Bay Ridge, and I have my own downtown.
"I need you to come to Eclipse," I said. He has his own shop, does platinum casting, and it's all cash deals—he doesn't charge for labor or rob me at retail rates, although I wondered if he had anything I'd be interested in. There was no limit . . . to what I'd spend on Maggie's ring. "Bring your trunks." He's got peddling trunks that he can haul his shit in—original designs and whatnot.
"Can you give me a hint?" he asked.
"Engagement rings."
"Bet . . . I can be there in fifteen—twenty minutes. The B goes right up there."
I nodded, ending the call and turning to Maggie. "My friend is going to be here soon . . . you can pick out a ring."
"What? Now? Seriously?" she giggled.
"Seriously." I pecked her lips. "Whichever one you want—I don't want you worrying about how much it costs. Okay?"
She furrowed her brow.
"Don't worry about it." I wished we were fucking married already.
Since I live in a world where instant gratification comes instantly—it's the name of the game—I wondered if she'd be opposed to flying out to Vegas this weekend, or if she'd want a big wedding . . .
"What kind of ceremony do you want?" I asked.
"Um…" She stared up to the ceiling, a crinkle between her brow. "Kylie would be my maid of honor—it'd be in a church." She touched my forearm, getting excited. "I'd never thought about it before, but Kylie and I planned it all out."
"You did?" I chuckled. "When…would you want to do this?"
Her brows rose. "I…"
"How about a chapel?" I scooted closer to her. "We can be married by this time tomorrow."
She swallowed, like her tongue was too thick. "To-tomorrow?" She seemed unsure suddenly.
"If you don't want to—"
"No," she whispered. "As long as you're there . . . the time or place…" She squealed. "It doesn't matter."
Fuck. I wanted to squeal, too. "You mean that? If I called and booked us on a flight . . . we get the ring, head to JFK—"
She nodded. "I don't care. I love you—I want to be with you, and . . . I know you like to rush things." She took my hands. "But I'm not going anywhere. We can wait and do this right. We can plan and—Santino, I'm here. We don't have to rush."
I had a knot in my stomach. She had me pegged, and I could meet her halfway. "I always want things when I want them." My fingers wove through her soft hair. "We'll go to Vegas and do this…we'll only tell our immediate families . . . and then—a few months from now—we'll plan the wedding you've always wanted. We'll get married again in our church. Hopefully, your father will walk you down the aisle." My heart sank a bit, always thinking Dame would be my best man. "How's that sound?"
Maggie had tears in her eyes. "Wonderful. I can't wait."
"But you don't have to wait." I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. "We can have two weddings."
She nodded. "You need to do this soon, just to have us married."
"And you want a big wedding." I nipped her lips. "We can do both. Right?"
She smiled widely. "Right."
"Awesome." I wanted to dance, my heart full of joy again. Overall, I was happy, only that tidbit about Dame making me a little sad, but oh well. Maybe we'd be talking again by the time we got married here in New York? Who knows?
"Can we sneak into a bathroom on the plane? Join the Mile High Club?" She rubbed me over my slacks.
"Fuck…What do you know about that shit?" I grasped her jaw.
"Saw it in a movie once."
"Right." I turned, capturing those lips again.
"But—" Maggie didn't let me get too far. "Should we go to Vegas now? Be so far away? Even if it's only for a weekend?"
I knew what she was getting at, and I loved that she always thought of everyone but herself first. "We'd be back by Monday. Katie's not due for over two weeks."
At her last doctor's appointment, she wasn't dilated in the slightest. That was on Wednesday. I was confident we could do this. Worse comes to worst, I'd be a couple of hours late. Katie was already being a pain in the ass, talking about the birth, wanting her mother in the room but mine wasn't allowed—fuck, the way she's been acting, who knew if I'd be allowed? The situation was fucked up, and the only one who was making it that way was Katie. We're friends; she's just bitchy.
"Let's go to my office, so I can make a few calls." I left the booth, holding my hand out for hers.
Needing to book the flights and our stay at the Venetian, I didn't waste any time making those calls. Delta had a flight leaving JFK at midnight. Luck was also on our side. I was able to reserve two first-class seats.
While on the phone with my concierge friend, Ana, from the Venetian, Hector came knocking on the door. Maggie was a little hesitant to look, wanting me to pick out the ring, but I was too busy telling Ana of our plans.
This wouldn't be my first trip out to Vegas. I make the trip a few times a year—to simply get away, or to handle business—and she knows me, my likes, dislikes, and she was surprised as fuck to learn I was getting married.
Ana said she'd take care of it all, and all we needed to do was get on the plane. I even told her Maggie's dress and shoe size.
We were to be married tomorrow afternoon, and on a flight back in the evening. We'd honeymoon after our New York wedding—after the baby is born, just after . . . and we'd be married by tomorrow afternoon.
I couldn't get over that as I stared at my girl, smiling wide and looking down at rings.
"See any you like?" I asked.
"They're all beautiful."
I winked, heaving myself out of the chair to get into my safe. "Talk to me, Hector."
"She keeps avoiding this one."
I turned to see a huge princess cut solitaire in his hand.
As I took it from him, I held it up to the light. It was gorgeous, flawless. "What's wrong with this one?" I looked to Maggie.
She shrugged. "It's huge, I mean—"
"We'll take it." I nodded.
"Cool." Hector was fast to start packing up his shit. "I'd wait for the green, but I know you're good for it, and my old lady was bitching when I left."
"How much?" I asked. "I'll have it whenever you're ready—I'll send one of my boys down to you."
He slapped his hand to mine. "For you, thirty-five."
"Sounds good." I walked him out, the ring balled within my fist. As I went to close the door behind him, I was shocked to see Damion stumbling over toward me. "Fuck."
"What?" Maggie placed her hand on my shoulder.
I blocked her with my body, watching my brother. He had a bottle in his hand, wearing the same clothes he wore Thursday. He was filthy, looking unkempt, hair a mess, actual dirt on his face.
"Sonny!" he shouted.
"Go sit behind my desk," I told Maggie.
She was quick to comply, and I stood back to let Damion into the office. "Bad timing, dude. We were just leaving." I shook my head. "I'll have someone drive you home."
He almost fell, but I righted him. "What'd you do-do to her?" He slurred as he pointed a finger, indicating Maggie. "My angel looks like a whore."
I grabbed him by his collar, smacking him against the wall. And I didn't know which word bothered me more, the "my" or the "whore".
"Santino!" Maggie hollered a warning. "Don't! He's drunk!"
My nostrils flared—from anger and his stench, and I didn't give a fuck if he was drunk. "You should go home." My father could deal with him.
"You ruined her—" He started.
"Santino did nothing!" Maggie shouted, surprising me. "I'm sick of you blaming him! The only thing he's guilty of is loving me. Why can't you leave us—leave me alone?"
I didn't say anything, backing off and wondering the same, but I did go stand by my fiancée—making sure that crazy fuck wouldn't get to her in any way.
"You're still gorgeous . . ." Dame fell into the couch. "Trust . . . I'd still fuck you." He guzzled from a bottle of cheap whiskey.
I stole it from him to toss it at the wall. It crashed, the glass shattering and trickling down. "What's your deal?" He didn't need to drink any more. That much was apparent. Sadly, he'd still likely say the same shit sober.
"Don't get upset," Maggie whispered, rubbing my shoulders, and I tried to stay calm. "It's just a dress," she told Dame. "He didn't do anything . . . I don't know what else to say." She stood back.
Her guess was as good as mine. "I should call my father." I lifted my cell, knowing we had just a few hours to make it to Kennedy. This time of night . . . fuck. There'd be no traffic, but I wondered about chartering a helicopter from Pier 17.
Dad told me to have one of the guys drive him home. He asked if Caius was here specifically, as he's likely one of the only guys who wouldn't bat an eyelash to rough Dame up—make him get in a car and go home.
As I placed my phone in my pocket, I looked to my brother. "You have everyone's attention now. You have no cause to complain. You need to go home and sleep this shit off."
"Fuck you." He spat, looking to Maggie. "Fuck her, too—fucking cocktease!"
I jumped at him again, but then . . . something became very clear. "You want me to hurt you, you sad fucker." I held up the ring. "You see this? We're heading to Vegas at midnight—"
"Don't you fu-fucking dare!" He lunged at me, and I was fast to bring him down—hold him by his neck like I did on Halloween.
"Go home. Get your shit together, and . . ." I was at a loss as I let go of him. For the first time in my life, I had no advice for him. He was such a pitiful sight.
He gasped for air. "You ruined her. She's pregnant, isn't she?"
"I am not!" Maggie exclaimed, and she was correct.
Sure, we've played with fire, but we have yet to get burned. The doctor's office called to say she could start her pills. Everything checked out fine with her blood and shit. And we went back to her doctor's office yesterday, too. Remembering what my mother said, I had her call back and inquire about the shot. It supposedly takes a certain amount of time to work—fuck if I know—but it'd be faster than waiting for the pills to kick in. She was injected at around noon. It only took like fifteen minutes. We were in and out. She only had to see the nurse, and then we drove around to look for Dame some more.
"We love each other!" Maggie hollered. "Why is that so hard for you to accept?"
"You're too young to know what you want," Dame said. "He took advantage—he's been taking advantage. Can't you see that?" He sat up, holding his neck, and I let him talk—ever so curious as to what he had to say.
"I was a kid once, too." He started crying. "I was just-just like you once . . . always so happy, goofy." He sobbed into his hands. "I was just like Maggie, man . . ." He keeled over to his side, lying in a fetal position on the floor.
"Get up." I held his bicep.
"Leave me'lone!" He fought me, sounding like a fucking toddler.
"Come on." I brought him back over to the couch.
To my surprise, Maggie was right next to me and knelt down to him.
"Get away from him." I went to pull her away, but she held up her hands to stop me.
"He won't hurt me," she whispered.
Unfortunately, I wasn't as sure as she was, so I didn't move an inch but placated her nonetheless.
Maggie looked over to Dame, pushed his hair back. "Damion, I know what I want . . . I was lucky enough to find Santino." Her words made him sob even harder, and I didn't understand it—not one bit—unless he was truly in love with her. "Why are you doing all of this? Hurting your parents . . . you put them through so much," she whispered. "You need to make this right . . . whatever happened, that's in the past, and it doesn't define you . . . If you need help, we're all here. We can help you. You're a good person." She placed her hand on his cheek. "I know you're hurting too...and I don't understand. But you need your mom and dad right now, just like they need you."
He sniffled, staring at her and calming down.
"Amelia loves you so much . . . your parents, even Santino and Kylie. You have many people who love you—who are hurting because you're hurting," she continued.
"You're my angel," he breathed.
"I'm not," she said. "I'm just me, a little weird with little life experience, but I'm learning . . . I make mistakes. As it turns out, I'm not fit to be a nun." She turned back to grin at me, and her smile was contagious.
I rubbed her cheek with my thumb, smiling down at her. "I love you." I mouthed.
She winked and turned back to my brother, who was less than enthused by our interaction.
"You're—you're going to regret it, choosing him."
"I don't think so." Maggie was fast to say. "But if—God forbid—I do? Then that's my mistake."
He turned, burying his face into the couch pillow.
"You'll be okay," she crooned, pushing his hair back.
"All right," I sighed, lifting Maggie by her bicep. "Caius is going to drive you home."
He was quick, reaching out to hold Maggie's leg. "Don't leave me."
With a growl erupting from me, I tore his hand away. "Stop."
He started weeping all over again, and I'd honestly never seen him like this.
The sad thing? I felt very little sympathy—not knowing if this was a game, some ploy, or genuine. I'd been his idiot—cleaning up his mistakes for too many years, being his shoulder . . . and he has no respect, love, or loyalty for me, for my fucking girl.
He'd cried wolf too many fucking times with me.
All I knew was that I had a plane to catch.
"I'd appreciate your discretion." I went over to the safe, placing a quite a few stacks of money in a briefcase I had. Going to Vegas, carrying loot like that isn't very suspicious. "I'd like for Maggie and me to tell Mom and Dad ourselves . . ." I kept my tone business-like. When I turned, he was just staring at Maggie while she hugged herself, looking away. "Hey!" I shouted, making him avert his gaze.
"I won't say anything." He rasped, clearing his throat. "You are beautiful." Maggie never responded. "I'm sorry I said what did. I just like you—who you always are, Maggie . . . I used to be happy . . . happy-go-lucky just like you. If it weren't for that bitch, I could be perfect for you. We'd be us, silly and great, and we wouldn't even have to try hard. I'd let you finish school—we could just be together. I'm sorry. I fucked up. I had my shot and I blew it!" He was ranting.
"Enough." I tucked Maggie into my side. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I spat down to him. "The fucking audacity . . ."
He wiped his eyes, not meeting my gaze.
"I'll see you . . . whenever." There was nothing left for me to say, nothing left I wanted to say.
Tonight, there's another "first time in my life." I had plans to do something for me—only me—and it's just my luck, he has to come at the wrong time.
In the doorway, about to leave and amidst the music, I heard the all too familiar sound of a click, and I wondered if Momo just let him in without passing through the metal detectors.
As fast as I could, I pushed Maggie out of the office, grabbed my nine, and turned on my brother.
He also had his heat raised.
"Don't do it." I smiled. "You're aim isn't too good right now, and I'm going for your dome."
He gulped, dropping his weapon, which surprised me.
Cautious, my gun still raised, I walked over and picked up his nine. "Where'd you get this? One of your future-in-laws?"
"Just take it, or I might do something stupid," he said.
I snorted a laugh. "You're a fucking joke." Even if he felt that way, was suicidal, I doubt he'd have the balls to pull the trigger.
He nodded. "It seems I am . . ."
I placed his gun in my waist, and then mine followed. I'd have to discard of them before we got on any plane. Without any more words, I left my office. Maggie was crying, having seen that small display of stupidity, and I was shocked she didn't ask questions, although I wished she'd stop crying.
Caius was by the bar, and my father had already spoken to him. He went toward the back as we got Maggie's coat. Once outside, we got into the limo, and I instructed the driver where to go.
"We shouldn't do this," Maggie sobbed. "Maybe it's not Damion. Maybe I'm tearing your family apart."
"That's not true," I said. "He did all this—he's doing all of this."
She shook her head. "If it weren't for me…"
Anger bubbled up in my chest. "Do you love me?"
"Yes!" she shouted. "More than I ever thought—thought possible. I just—"
"We're getting married," I said, because I couldn't imagine us not doing so. "We're getting married and fuck everyone else."
She just continued to cry. "We're doing it wrong…and I don't know—"
"Baby . . ." I held up the ring, my heart on my sleeve, and I didn't know what else to say again—beg her to be my wife, plead?
Maggie took in a shaky breath while she also took the ring. "I love you."
Overzealous, I crashed my mouth to hers, my hand fumbling to place the ring on her finger. "I love you, too."
She giggled through her tears. "Are we really doing this?"
I nodded, rubbing my hands up her thighs. "We're doing this. I want this—I want you. You and me forever, and I don't care what anyone says or who has a problem . . . You've done nothing to my family. They adore you, and they all know what's really going on. My brother is causing this trouble. Like you said, you're only guilty of loving me."
"I love you too much it seems."
"That's my problem, too." I grinned, nuzzling my nose to hers.
"Your mom and Kylie are going to be so pissed . . . Most of the reluctance I have is because of other people. You're right, Santino."
"They'll get over it," I laughed, composing myself when I lost myself in her gaze.
As if our minds were one, we started clawing at each other. She went right for my waist, our lips locked, our tongues tangling in a frenzy of a kiss. Maggie tossed both nines onto the floor and unzipped me. I pushed her panties over to the side, and then I entered her—instantly relaxing, the both of us letting out a breath once we were joined.
She squirmed, getting comfortable below me, while I pulled her hips closer. Maggie was soaked already, and maybe it was all the sexual tension—me not being able to keep my hands off her all night.
"Thank you." I lifted her leg, bringing it to my shoulder, my hips picking up a rhythm.
She moaned. "Look at my ring." Her hips moved with me, or she tried to. "Thank you."
I groaned, going faster, harder, not able to get enough of her—her pussy.
"Just—just pull out. I don't know if it's working yet." She spoke of her shot.
I shook my head, nearly squashing her to kiss those lips. "We're getting married. It doesn't matter. You wanna have my babies, right?" Whether she got knocked up now, or a year from now, it made no difference to me. She'll be my wife, and I'm not using condoms with my wife. Plus, I firmly believed we'd be fine.
We'll get a house. She can finish school and go to college. We'll get a nanny if we have to. Maggie doesn't realize how easy starting a family might be. She also doesn't know how much I want that . . . how much it killed me to sit there while they injected her with that shit. But it was what she wanted since she'd more than likely get pregnant before those pills even took effect.
"Married," she repeated through a whine, pulling me into her. "Shuddup about babies…you and babies," she moaned. "Harder, Santino."
Gnashing my teeth together, I dogged her out—thrusting as fast, getting as deep . . . "Who makes you feel this good?" Our lower halves meeting had sound effects, a squishy, sexy noise that kept getting louder the harder I hit it.
"You, Santino—oh my God, you." She came around my cock, letting out a cry, digging her nails into my shoulders, and that face she makes . . .
"Good…hmmm." I slowed, going down to her, seconds away from blowing my load. "I love you, baby." My eyes rolled, and I held her hips to me—coming deep inside of her, letting go.
"I—I don't know if I know how to be a wife," she whispered, still panting. "I hope—"
Out of breath, I placed a finger over her lips. "Just be you . . . my Shaky. And we'll deal with shit as it comes along. We'll get a house, settle shit…it'll be great. You'll see."
She grinned. "My hunk-a-man." Her hand palmed my cheek, and then she looked around. "When did the car stop?"
Surprised, I looked over her head—out the windows. Behind us, there was a cab. In front of us, there was a ramp. We were at the fucking airport already. Homeboy in front probably didn't want to disturb us.
"Fuck." I leaned away, tucking my shirt and fixing my pants. "We gotta go."
"We're here?" She sat up, pulling her dress down.
I chuckled. "You ready? Ready to start your life with me?"
She nodded, combing her hair with her fingers. "As ready as I'll ever be."
With a few words to Paul, the limo driver who I'd known for years, he agreed to hold onto the Glocks. Both were useless to me now anyway. He was informed to drop them off with Mike at Eclipse and had no problem—especially with the big tip I'd given him. Speaking of guns, I had Ana scoop me one for the day. It would be in the nightstand by the bible.
Paul wished us luck, told me to bet on black, and then I dragged Maggie along to pick up our tickets, and on to make it to the terminal.
It was rush, rush, rush, but we didn't miss the plane.
"You're sure about this?" I asked once we were on board.
She moved in her seat, grimacing. "I'm leaking."
I winced. "Running around probably didn't help that."
She laughed into my shoulder. "I'm sure—I promise. I just worry about, you know. Not being able to do the wife things? And what if I get pregnant." Her eyes widened. "I'm not ready."
"Don't worry about that stuff," I whispered. "Nothing is going to change . . . We'll just be married, legally . . ." I'd be able to open up a lot more, which was something I was looking forward to. Although I wasn't sure if Maggie would let me unload the heavy stuff on her. I had a sinking suspicion she would . . . "We'll be able to share more secrets."
"I don't have any," she said. "You know everything already."
I nodded. "I do." I kissed the ring as the flight attendant demanded our attention.
"Well, there might be one secret." Tears were in her eyes.
"Whoa." I palmed her cheek. "What's the matter?"
She turned away. "You might not want to marry me—"
"What is it?" I made her look at me.
"The night we hung out—Damion and me—we didn't kiss, but…"
I hated myself, that I was instantly angry and I still didn't know the whole story. "And?" My heart felt seconds away from breaking. "What happened?" I held her jaw, pulling her closer to me.
She searched my eyes. "He had me touch myself, and then he licked my finger. I hate that I would have, would have done more. It was before I knew you. Nothing else happened. We didn't kiss." She rushed out.
I nodded, although it pissed me the fuck off. "He's tasted you."
"Before we got married…I felt you had to know."
I didn't even have to think about it. "Still doesn't change anything." I kissed her palm, which made Maggie light up again.
"But I do worry about the baby thing . . . I don't want to be pregnant at prom." She snorted. "We keep doing what we're doing—" She held her stomach. "Nothing is 100% percent, and I'm paranoid. I know the roles. I'd go to school, cook dinner, keep the place tidy, and if I got pregnant—we'd have a baby." She rambled, bopping her head with each point she'd made.
"Maggie, baby, nothing's gonna change. It's still you and me, and I don't want you worrying about roles or whatever. Just be you."
"I just—I want you. I want to marry you more than anything. I just don't know if I'm ready for—"
"It's gonna be exactly like how things are now. Only we get jewelry, and we have our union on paper. There's no divorce…" I cocked a brow. "How do you feel about that? Not being able to divorce me?" My stomach was in knots again. 'Cause she's not allowed to divorce me. No fucking way.
"Why would we divorce?"
I yanked her into my side. "We're not."
"Cool." She settled down.
When the seat belt sign went off, I took Maggie to the bathroom. We never went in to fuck, but there's always the flight back.
I'd ordered us some cranberry and vodkas—to toast our love, figuring she'd dig the sweetness of the drink.
She took a sip and then knocked out—fell asleep in my arms. We had two seats, but we shared one, and I placed a blanket on top of us. She slept and I watched a movie. It was nice, and I hoped she slept through the entire flight, so she'd be rested for later on. To my surprise, I fell asleep, too.
Even more surprising than that, was waking up when the flight attendant wanted Maggie back in her seat.
We were landing.
I wasn't nervous as we left the plane, but I could tell Maggie was. "It's just us," I said as we approached the driver holding the "Cullen" sign. He inquired about luggage, and I dismissed that.
Maggie was quiet during the ride, and I was too busy kissing her—her lips, her bare shoulders, her neck. She'd sigh and smile. I was just doing anything I could to calm her. And I couldn't believe I wasn't nervous—Santino Cullen was getting married. I was excited as fuck, believe it or not.
"I'm hungry," she whispered.
"We'll get room service . . . they have great breakfast." It was actually about three o'clock in the morning, but with the time zones and a little jet lag it felt like six a.m. "We'll eat, sleep some more . . ."
She nipped my earlobe, a short giggle escaping her. "I slept . . . We'll eat, and then . . ." Her tone was almost too suggestive.
I bit my lip, trying to behave myself in this limo.
When my phone vibrated in my pants, I wondered who'd be calling so early. It was my father, and I debated picking up the phone. I did, but it almost went to voice mail. "Hello?"
"We're at the hospital—"
"What?" I shouted, thinking it was just my luck again.
"Your brother." As soon as he said that, I calmed a bit but not really. "He passed out—alcohol poisoning." His voice was filled with emotion. "They're doing everything they can…"
"Is he going to live?" I asked.
"What happened?" Maggie placed her hand on my forearm.
I shook my head, waiting on Dad.
"The alcohol has to leave his system . . . he has an IV . . . is on oxygen. They said he'd be okay."
"Cool." I slumped back, my heart rate slowing down.
"We're all here . . . I had Aro pick up Kylie and Gio. Where are you?"
I clamped my eyes closed. "Vegas—"
"Sonny . . ." He paused.
I licked my lips, and now I was nervous.
"I don't know what to say . . . I guess you went out there to get married, which was very fucking selfish!" He was shouting now. "What about—"
"We're going to plan a big ceremony—in a few months. It'll be big. I just—I needed this."
He was quiet on the other end while I waited for him. I'm an adult. I didn't have to explain anything. Sure, it was probably selfish that I didn't care all that much about Damion—that we essentially ran away to Vegas without all of them. "Don't tell your mother," he said. "She'll be heartbroken she missed it. Tell her . . . when things slow down."
"I can respect that." I blew out a breath. "Dame's gonna be okay?" Either way, we'd get married and head straight home. That was the right thing to do.
"He has to detox . . . he'll be fine."
"We'll be home later tonight—"
"Don't rush," he said. "Enjoy yourself." That response surprised me. "You gotta do what you gotta do, man. I get it . . . Congratulations." Dad sounded like he was crying. "I do wish we were there, though. Your mother always wanted to go to Vegas."
"Dad…" My voice broke.
"I love you . . . I don't know what else to say." He chuckled and I heard him sniffle. "My Sonny's getting married . . ."
I grinned. "He is." I lifted Maggie's hand to kiss her palm. "To a girl he loves so much." I winked my fiancée. "And we're going to live happily ever after—"
"Okay, stop. This is getting too puss for me," he continued to laugh.
"You're probably crying like a fuckin' baby." I smiled so wide.
"Fuck you." That was more like the Skip I knew. "Take your time, so I can surprise you—something good has to come out of this weekend. Oh, say hello to our cousins—"
I rolled my eyes. "Anthony Maisano—that old fuck parties too hard for me," I lied. Every time I come out here for business, I manage to have a wild time at Dawn, one of the biggest strip clubs on The Strip. I wouldn't be doing that during this trip, though.
"Hey, the Maisanos always treat you good, right? Make an appearance. Send Juniuh my love—whateva the fuck."
I chuckled. "All right."
"Thanks . . . You managed to make me forget where I was for a second."
"Dad," I whispered.
"Damion keeps scaring the fuck out of us . . . Your mother lied."
"What?" I asked.
"She said it was a suicide attempt, knowing that after he woke up, they're going to keep him—a seventy-two-hour hold in the psychiatric ward." His voice rose. "My son in the fucking nut house. I don't know who's crazier . . ."
"I think it's a smart move," I said. "He'll keep his mouth shut about certain things—I don't think you have to worry . . ."
"They're not holding him," he laughed. "As soon as he's better, I'm signing him out, and we'll drive up to Platts—just him and me, and the outdoors. We'll settle some shit, so we might not be around when you get back, but that's okay . . . You want money or a house?" He was rambling, all over the fucking place.
"Dad . . ." I didn't know where to start, finally feeling guilty and selfish, wishing I was there for him. "Go be with Mom. Don't worry about me."
"Right, right." He rushed out. "Damion will be okay."
I nodded. "So will you . . . and Mom." I swallowed, my throat thick. "Don't tell Kylie either. I'm sure Maggie will want to."
"You got it." He ended the call, but he was fast to call me back. "I love you, and congratulations."
"Thank you—I love you, too." Then he hung up again.
"What happened?" Maggie asked.
I sighed, staring down at my cell. "Dame—he was admitted to the hospital with alcohol poisoning."
"Oh no!" She gasped. "We should go back—"
I shook my head. "He's going to be fine. We're fine here. Look." I pointed out the window. We were finally on The Strip. "Sometimes, in life, baby," I whispered, my lips touching her ear, "we have to worry about ourselves." It was true.
I was tired of worrying about taking care of my brother. If there was a chance he wasn't going to make it, I'd rent a private jet to get us to New York as fast as possible. But that wasn't the case.
"It's not that easy." She turned to me. "Before I met you, I was ready to lead a life of poverty, chastity, worrying and caring for others, not myself . . . devoting my life to God. That's not easy for me, so yeah. I'm worried for your mom, thinking we should be there. Kylie!" Her eyes widened, digging her phone from her purse. "She's probably scared."
I put her hand down. "Everyone is fine . . . and I love that about you—that you're selfless and giving. Christ. I love everything about you. But no worries. Dame's gonna be fine. Let's just get through 'til the afternoon. Then, when we're on our way home, you can call whomever you wish."
"Did you just say whomever?" She snorted, nestling into me. "I am fine . . . I just . . . your brother's like a jigsaw puzzle."
I kissed her cheek as we pulled up to the hotel. "I'll talk to the concierge—see about us doing this earlier."
"I'm sure whatever you have planned is great." She left the car ahead of me. "This is crazy . . ." She stared up to the sky, twirling in a circle. "Oh my God . . . I am selfish—too selfish to be a nun," she whined. "Why do I love this place?" She kept turning, and I laughed.
"You're not a fucking nun . . . you're going to be my wife." I lifted her, holding her to my side.
She giggled, and I loved that smile.
Even if I wasn't as carefree as I was earlier, I was still happy.
When we finally got up to the Honeymoon Suite, I texted Dad our information—just in case he needed to get ahold of us.
Maggie gasped and ran to the bed where a white dress was laid out for her. "This is for me?" She held it to her chest. The dress was a cream-colored silk, sleeveless, and trailed down . . .
"Wow." I couldn't wait to see her in it.
"These are the shoes…" She held up a silver pair of high-heeled sandals. Ana really has great taste, I thought. "Look . . . you got me lingerie, too?" She raised a brow, grabbing a white corset and matching thong.
"Put it away." I'd ask her to try it on now, and with my luck . . . I'd jizz on it.
She giggled, running to the closet and hanging it all up. "There's a tux in here for you." She showed it to me. "Shoes . . . boxers?" She showed me the briefs. "Where's the itinerary?"
I grabbed the folder Ana left for us and sat on the bed. Maggie crawled toward me and bit my earlobe. "Sorry."
I put my arm out to hug her to my side. "We're to be at the chapel by noon . . . It's here in the hotel." I realized we needed wedding bands, and clothes, and a few more things I forgot to ask Ana for. "Are you tired?"
"Not really. I need to shower and—"
"We can do that later . . . we have a few things to do." I gathered her into my arms and left the bed.
/=/=/=/=/
Our wedding bands were modest—platinum and simple—and Maggie's matched her engagement ring. And she kept showing me her hand, which was the cutest fucking thing ever. I loved it, and then we shopped, got breakfast, and wasted twenty dollars in a Wizard of Oz slot machine. Maggie had never gambled before.
Then she said a prayer on our way back to the room . . . likely for her heathen ways. But I had news for her. I planned to hit it in the shower, so . . . praying was moot. After we get married, she won't have to say a prayer for fucking me. That's gotta be a good thing. No one ever went to hell for fucking their husband.
Once we got back to the room, she made me pray for Damion with her, and I complied, happy to do so. I'd also called my father. My brother was doing well, would be staying for observation; however, my father was adamant about not admitting him to the psychiatric unit.
Maggie yawned, breaking me from my reverie. "Now I feel tired."
I scooted higher up onto the bed, widening my arms, and she crawled into them smiling. "We have no time." But I wanted a minute, just to be with her. "You're sure about this?"
"Absolutely." She placed her lips to mine, and she was fast to straddle my lap. "All this wedding stuff . . . it makes me horny."
"Me too." I grabbed the hemline of her dress, bringing it over her head. "We should do this in the shower—two birds, one stone." I went for her bra clasp and then groaned when I saw my tits. Soon, they'll be mine forever.
She palmed my cheeks, stopping me. "I'll shower . . . wouldn't it be fun to wait until we're married? That's like…two hours from now." Her eyes widened. "I need to get ready!" She jumped off me so fast, she poked me in the eye. "Crappity-crap-crap," Maggie sang, running away.
I held my face, smiling as I watched her go.
But I wasn't going to let her get away from me that easily . . .
I couldn't wait the two hours. After we were freshly showered and fucked, I lay in the bed, watching her get ready. Everything she did . . . she was gorgeous, and it was only going to take me ten minutes to don the tuxedo.
"I feel so lucky," I told her. Maggie had her hair swept to the side in a clip. Her cheeks were rosy from my words, the dress fitting her like a glove, showing off her hourglass figure. The silk was smooth, flowed down to her ankles. "You're gorgeous."
"Stop…you're gonna make me cry."
Since I definitely didn't want any of that, I grabbed my tux from the closet.
Dressed and ready to tie the knot, we were congratulated by everyone who saw us—who knew what we were about to do. Maggie and I both wore smiles, and I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. It was a surreal feeling, and it was another one of those times . . .
"Are you ready?"
"I've been ready," I said.
The chapel wasn't like the rinky-dink places on TV, where Elvis is standing at the altar and Love Me Tender is sounding from the speakers, and there wasn't a mess of people on some line. It was pretty, decorated in white ribbons and flowers, and there were pews, which were sadly empty. Ana had arranged for witnesses, and we had the marriage license. The minister asked us if we had vows planned, but we didn't. We were content with just getting married.
Before I went to the altar, I promised we'd write our own later, recite them in front of our families.
Maggie walked toward me, a bouquet of flowers in her hands as this old woman played a tune on the piano. It wasn't a song I recognized, but it was pretty, and listening to that, and seeing Maggie—my love, who would always be mine now—walking to me . . . my eyes stung with unshed tears.
I didn't feel badly letting them fall, and I was fast to squeeze her hand.
The minister said his piece.
We repeated his words, the both of us saying "I do" in the end.
All while I stared at my Maggie, not wanting to take my eyes away from her.
When I kissed my bride . . . it was the single, most exciting, most erotic kiss I'd ever had.
And it was with my wife.
Thank you for reading.
I was nervous about this chapter, knowing some of you would hate it. And as someone who knows ALL TOO well what it's like to take care of a sibling most of her life . . . Sometimes, you have to do things for yourself. I know from personal experience that you can't save everyone. Just like you can't please everyone. If you live your life FOR someone else, put yourself/your happiness on hold to hold someone's hand through life . . . you're not really living, are you?
Oh well . . . I don't expect everyone to see Sonny's side of things. In the beginning, he does express that he can't understand Dame's mindset, and . . . Whatever. No matter what I say I find it interesting that you all take someting different away from my words. Some of you get it, while others see/read into what they want, and that's great - the beauty of an individual mind.
The sequel to Cara No's Grand Tale, entitled Grand Vendetta is coming soon. Be on the look out for it!
Note: I know nothing about stocks. Although I changed it up, I used some dialogue from The Sopranos during Sonny's talk with Ant. Although I hope that doesn't discredit me. LOL. Trust that I always give credit where it's due. Thanks again for reading.