Chapter 15 Hope
HOPE
Itook a shower after Frost left, but still find myself staring at the clothes in my suitcase, willing something to jump out that says ‘I can get married in this’, when I hear the front door open.
“Hope!” Amy's voice carries up the stairs.
Footsteps pound up the staircase, and Amy bursts into my room, carrying a garment bag and a shoe box. She's breathless, her hair is slightly wild, but there's a fire in her eyes that makes me sit up straighter.
“What did you find?” I ask, my voice hoarse from crying.
Amy sets the bag and box on the bed, then turns to me, her expression serious. “Do you trust me?”
I raise my brows in confusion. “Huh?”
“Do. You. Trust. Me?” she repeats, slower this time.
I don't even have to think about it. “With my life.”
Amy takes a deep breath as she slowly unzips the garment bag. “Good, because this isn't what you picked out. I need you to keep an open mind.”
I hold my breath while she pulls it out.
It’s a short white dress, not a floor-length lace and champagne silk wedding gown.
It’s not a romantic, traditional gown at all.
The bodice is a structured, fitted white leather corset with delicate lacing up the back.
The skirt is short and appears to hit mid-thigh, made of soft white tulle that flares just enough to be feminine without being over-the-top.
There's a subtle edge to it with the silver grommets along the corset and a thin black ribbon threaded through the lacing.
It's biker chic, sexy, bold, and it's absolutely gorgeous.
“Amy,” I breathe, reaching out to touch the fabric.
“I know it's not what you wanted,” she says quickly. “But Sofia, the boutique owner Vegas knows, said this would be perfect for you. Since you are marrying a biker, I saw it and knew you had to have it.”
I look up at her, tears already threatening again. “You were both right, it's perfect.”
Amy's face breaks into a relieved smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I stand up, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Save the mushy shit for later. We've got a wedding to get ready for.”
The next hour is a complete blur. Mom does my hair with soft waves, pinned back on one side with a small crystal clip, while the rest falls loosely over my shoulders. Amy handles my makeup, keeping it natural but polished with enough drama on the eyes to make them pop.
Once my hair and makeup are perfect, Amy and Mom help me into the dress. They lace up the corset in the back and adjust the tulle skirt. It fits like it was made especially for me. I stare at myself in the mirror, and for the first time all day, I don't see a bride on the verge of a breakdown.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Mom says, her voice thick with emotion.
“Don't start,” I warn, blinking rapidly. “If you cry, I'll cry, and Amy will kill us both.”
“Damn right, I will,” Amy threatens with no heat behind her words.
She hands me the shoe box. Inside are simple white heels, low enough that I won't break my ankle, but high enough to make my legs look good. I slip them on, and Amy steps back, hands on her hips, surveying me like a general inspecting her troops.
“Perfect,” she declares. “Let's go.”
We all load into the car, and I immediately ask, “Where are we going?”
“You'll see,” Amy says, starting the engine.
“Amy.”
“Trust me.”
I glance at Mom and Dad, who are sitting in the back seat with mysterious smiles on their faces. “Mom? Dad?”
“You'll see, sweetheart.”
I huff, crossing my arms. “I hate surprises.”
“You're gonna love this one,” Amy says, pulling out onto the street.
The drive takes about twenty minutes, and the whole time, I'm trying to figure out where we're going.
When we turn onto a familiar road, I swing my head in her direction. “Amy,” I say slowly. We pull into the parking lot of Saints Outlaws clubhouse, and I stare at the building, confused. “What are we doing here?”
Amy parks the car and turns to me, a mischievous smile on her face. “You'll see.”
“Amy.”
“Come on.” She gets out of the car, with Mom and Dad following her. All of them look way too pleased with themselves.
I climb out slowly, my heels clicking on the pavement as I follow them toward the entrance.
The front door is propped open, and I can hear music playing inside.
It’s soft, nothing like the usual rock or metal that blares through the clubhouse speakers.
Amy holds the door open for me, gesturing for me to go in first.
I step inside and halt in my tracks. The clubhouse has been completely and utterly transformed.
The main room, which is usually cluttered with pool tables, dartboards, and beer-stained furniture, has been cleared out.
Rows of chairs are set up on either side of a makeshift aisle, all facing a makeshift altar at the far end of the room.
It's not only the setup, but it's also the decorations.
White and gold fabric is draped along the walls, softening the space's rough edges. String lights are hung everywhere. Across the ceiling, along the bar, and wrapped around the support beams, casting a warm, golden glow over everything.
There are flowers, so many flowers. White roses, lilies, and greenery are arranged in tall vases along the aisle, on the bar, and on every available surface.
The altar is simple but beautiful. A wooden arch is wrapped in more greenery and white blooms, with two tall candles on either side.
The chairs are filled with MC members from both clubs, Death’s Gambit and Saints Outlaws, all dressed in their cuts, but cleaner than I've ever seen them. My family is here too, scattered among the brothers, all of them smiling. At the front, standing under the altar, is Frost.
He's wearing dark jeans, boots, and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up with his cut on. Frost stares at me like I'm the only person in the room. My breath catches, and it takes a moment for my brain to come back online.
“What do you think?”
I turn to see Vegas walking toward me, a rare smile on his face. I open my mouth, but no words come out. My eyes burn, and my throat is tight.
“Hope,” Amy hisses. “Don't you dare ruin that makeup. There's no time to fix it.”
I laugh and swipe at my eyes. “This is...” I look around again, taking it all in. “This is incredible.”
“We had some help,” Vegas says, nodding toward the brothers. “Both clubs pitched in. Figured you deserved a wedding, even if the universe tried to fuck it up.”
I laugh again, shaking my head. “Thank you, seriously, thank you. This means so much to us. I don't even know what else to say.”
“Don't say anything,” Vegas says. “Just get married.”
Hawk steps forward then, offering his arm to my mom. “Ma'am,” he says, his voice gruff but polite. “Please allow me to escort you to your seat.”
Mom smiles and takes his arm as he leads her down the aisle to the front row.
Vegas claps his hands together, the sound echoing through the room. “All right, people! Time to get married!”
He strides toward the front to take his seat, and the music shifts to something softer, more romantic.
Amy steps up beside me, holding her bouquet of white roses, and hands me a simple arrangement of stargazer lilies.
“Where’d you get these?” I ask. “I thought we were going with silk flowers.”
“We were, but a lot of them were ruined in the tent. We salvaged what we could,” she replies. “Besides, Vegas knows someone.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Of course, he does.”
“Ready?” she asks, grinning.
I nod. My heart pounds in anticipation. Amy starts down the aisle, and I watch her go, my hands trembling as I clutch my bouquet.
My dad steps up beside me and offers his arm. “You ready, kiddo?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion.
I look up at him and back down the aisle at Frost, whose eyes are locked on mine.
I take a deep, calming breath. “You bet your ass I am.”