Chapter 37
ASPEN
Part of me hopes he’s not there. The bigger part of me can’t wait to rain on his parade. We have been over this so many times I dream about it at night. However, dreams are one thing, but when they change into a living nightmare, it does kind of alter things a little.
If Blade wasn’t beside me now, I couldn’t go through with it.
The moment I pulled on the black dress this morning, my world shifted back to my former life. The woman I was is sitting with me now. Delilah Grimes is a mere memory. Aspen Costello has risen from the grave to seek justice for her death.
We pull up on a red carpet, and I note the beautiful white arch of flowers trailing down the entrance to the church.
It reminds me of my wedding day, almost a carbon copy of this one.
The freaking church is the same and they probably have the same red carpet. The last time I stepped foot on it, my shoes were white satin and my dress the most expensive money can buy.
Flash opens the door and peers in with a smile. His usual leather replaced with a smart black suit. I hid my amusement when I saw them earlier, dressed in their disguise, because I am used to seeing them dressed in leather and attitude, not like the freaking mafia.
Blade and Razor caused my head to spin when I saw them together, almost a mirror image of one another save for Blade’s jagged scar on his face.
Where Blade gazed at me with possession, Razor’s smile was brief and filled with pain, and I’m worried about him.
Sunday left yesterday, and he watched her leave with no expression in his cold, dead eyes.
I almost lost it when she faced him, hope flaring in her wavering smile as she said her goodbyes.
All she got was a brief nod of his head and a low murmur of good wishes.
My heart broke for her—and for him because he may wear the mask of indifference well, but I’ve been with Blade long enough to know when they are fighting an inner battle.
Blade murmurs huskily, “Wait there. I’ll help you out of the car.”
He leaves, and I catch my breath as the three Reapers form a guard. When Blade’s hand reaches in, my fingers close around his with a sense of reassuring familiarity.
I may have been married before, but my real husband was always waiting for me, and this time it will be happy ever after. I have no doubt about that.
As I step into the daylight, I waste no time and pull on the dark shades. As I take a deep breath, I relish the pure air. It’s as if we are the only people on the planet who survived Armageddon.
The aftermath of a battle. Silence, with only nature witnessing our presence. No other human life, save for the cops on the checkpoint, who are now in the distance.
I shiver inside as I take a deep breath, conscious we are not alone. Snipers are undoubtedly studying our every move, hidden from view. Secret service, assassins, hit men. I wouldn’t put it past any of the entities to be present here today because of one man. Gideon Fox.
Public enemy number one. The man of the hour and soon to be the most talked about man on the planet.
Blade and Razor stand beside me on either side, Flash walking behind us. The church door is closed as it celebrates the wedding inside. We are late to the party on purpose.
As grand entrances go, I almost wish I was one of the congregation instead, watching this play out like a movie, not knowing what will happen next.
We reach the top of the steps, and a shiver of apprehension passes through me. This must work. Surely it can’t go wrong.
We hover outside for a short time before Flash says in a low voice, “Now.”
With a deep breath, I wait as Razor pushes the door open, and the sound of the priest’s voice hits me from all angles.
The air inside the church is cool, slightly musty, and reverent. My heels click on the flagstone floor as we make our way inside.
A few people at the back turn as they sense the disruption, but my darkened gaze falls to the front of the church, two figures standing facing one another, the priest gazing on with solemnity.
It begins as a sweet ripple of conversation, a few murmurs, a shift on the pews as they angle their heads for a glimpse of the strangers.
I’m guessing we make quite the intrusion. The men walking with me are not to be ignored. Magnificent beasts, each one of them—mess with them at your peril.
Our entrance has been planned to the last detail, carefully timed for this moment and once again, it strikes me how well these men plan a mission, as the priest utters the words, “Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Low murmurs, an uncomfortable silence causes my voice to shatter it like machine gun fire.
“I do.”
My voice rings out loud, confident, brutal and angrily.
“Excuse me.”
The priest is shocked and taken aback, which probably means he hasn’t planned for this.
Then, I remove my shades, hovering halfway down the aisle, and my gaze locks on the one man I hate with every part of my soul.
“What the–”
He blinks several times, his expression almost comical as I stand facing my tormentor.
The man who almost broke me.
A loud gasp from the congregation, the bride cries out, and a cool resolve settles over me as I regain the upper hand.
“I do.”
I reaffirm as I slowly advance, my protection moving with me. I sense the nerves as the door slams behind me; many more guests arriving, filling the back of the church. This time dressed in combats, arms folded, expressions grim, menacing, warnings lit like neon signs in their eyes.
He steps forward, disbelief painting his withered smile.
“What the hell is happening?”
His bride steps forward, her expression disbelieving, and I flash her a sympathetic smile.
“It’s good to see you, Tallulah.”
“Aspen!”
Her shocked gasp echoes around the church, and she cries out, “But you’re dead.”
“Obviously not.”
I shake my head. “But that’s only because Gideon failed to dig my grave himself.”
“Aspen. What the fuck is going on here! Who are these men?”
He is recovering; shock replaced by anger. It’s almost interesting to watch.
The priest calls for calm and says, “Perhaps we should reconvene in the vestry.”
“No!”
I sound confident, almost badass, and that gives me courage.
I point to Gideon.
“This man drugged me, beat me, imprisoned me, assaulted me and then attempted to murder me.”
“Aspen, darling.”
Gideon’s voice is smooth, as if he is talking to a mad woman, attempting to control the situation, leaving me in no doubt how he wants to play this. The Reapers briefed me on this, so I wait with interest for his excuse.
He approaches and then falters as Blade steps a little in front of me, Razor mirroring his brother, a wall of menace if ever I saw one.
Gideon’s voice falters. “You are sick, darling. You must remember to take your medication.”
Tallulah cries out. “Gideon. You told me Aspen was dead.”
Her shock is evident as tears pour down her face, and a deep sense of nostalgia hits me as I face my best friend.
“I’m sorry, Tallulah.”
I really am, but only for ruining what should have been the best day of her life. Happy that she will be spared from the nightmare that is sure to follow on her wedding night.
“Gideon!”
She sounds unhinged, and he snaps, “Be quiet, Tallulah. This isn’t helping.”
“But you said—”
“I said, be quiet!”
A little of his cool facade slips as he raises his voice and she gasps, “I don’t understand. What is happening?”
Another voice enters the party.
“Aspen.”
My legs shake as my father steps out from the nearby pew, closely followed by my mother, and from their expressions they were obviously of the same opinion as Tallulah.
“Mom, Dad.”
I have zero emotion in my voice as I face them. Hating that they are here, celebrating another wedding to the tyrant they once called their son-in-law.
“This is most irregular.”
The priest attempts to control the situation, but I don’t rate his chances.
The cameras pointing at me from every angle will be played repeatedly after this day because Gideon Fox is about to lose his upper hand.
My voice rings out.
“On my wedding night, I was raped by Gideon’s friends while he watched.”
Mom collapses against my father, who appears to be in shock.
“I was drugged, beaten and humiliated by this man and then woke up one day as a slave to a woman who drugged me to erase my memory. On Gideon’s instructions.”
My accusations echo around the church, and Gideon shakes his head. “Aspen, darling. You are wrong; this is your psychosis talking.”
He calls out. “She is deluded; she lives in a make-believe world, which is why she was incarcerated for her own protection.”
“She is speaking the truth.”
Another voice calls out from the back of the church, and then another, “It happened to me too.”
“And me.”
“The man is a monster.”
Gideon’s expression is almost comical as one by one they come. The women from his past. The ones that got away. Women the Reapers tracked down, their intelligence gathering phenomenal, and as they crowd behind me in the aisle, Gideon backs away.
“You can’t believe these women. They are lying. She paid them; it’s a conspiracy.”
He is like a trapped gazelle facing a pride of lions, and I’m confident his words won’t dig him out of this one.
“Explain yourself.”
For once, my father steps up and faces Gideon with an angry glare.
“I was told she was dead.”
Gideon’s voice trails off, his words falling on emptiness.
“Aspen.”
Mom recovers, hesitant and nervous, and I sigh heavily.
“Keep away from me. Both of you. You arranged that marriage, and you never once put my needs before your own.”
“How can you say that?”
Mom almost sounds angry, and I notice Gideon inching backward as the spotlight falls on another actor.
It’s almost amusing to watch him squirm, knowing there is no way out for him. The Reapers have surrounded this church, and I almost hope he tries to make a break for it. That would be fun.
“She’s mad.”
Gideon calls out as he returns to his bride’s side. “She is deluded. This woman is sick; it’s why she was sectioned.”
“By you.”
I sense my eyes blazing.
“I never did reach that hospital. There were no doctors. No care plans, no attempts to make a sick woman better because she was never ill in the first place. I was a slave to a woman who worked for Gideon, and he controlled every beating, every rape, and every disgusting act she put me through because it’s what he does. ”
Another woman pushes forward and shouts, “That bastard ruined my life. Everything Aspen says is true. He is a monster. He takes women and erases their lives and sells them off to his sick society. He gets away with it because he uses other people to do it for him.”
“I don’t know this woman.”
Gideon’s voice is strangely calm, and it sets my nerves on edge.
He is recovering and will already be executing his escape plan.
Tallulah whimpers behind him. “Is this true, Gideon?”
He ignores her, and she screams, “I said, is this true!”
“No.”
He shakes his head, and I’m surprised when one of her bridesmaids steps forward and says falteringly, “Gideon.”
Her voice shakes, and he hisses, “I wouldn’t speak if I were you, Lianne.”
“You raped me.” She sobs. “Two nights ago. At the wedding rehearsal. He held his hand over my mouth and forced himself on me while you were waiting out here. He told me nobody would ever believe me and if I said anything he would ruin my reputation.”
She approaches him and slaps him hard around the face, shouting, “You bastard! You’re a monster!”
Another woman steps forward. “My friend told me he did the same to her last month.”
The church descends into chaos as everyone speaks at once, and then the sound of a gunshot crackles through the air, causing everyone to fall silent and stare in astonishment as one man steps out from the shadows.
“Enough!”
Ryder King moves to Gideon’s side, and I swear my former husband is in danger of an imminent heart attack.
“You can make your excuses down at the precinct.”
A couple of cops make their way to Gideon’s side and handcuff him, and he cries out, “Do you know who I am? The Chief is a personal friend of mine; hell, even the president.”
He is dragged off, all the time protesting his innocence, and as the door slams behind him, I watch him leave with a sense of deep satisfaction.
“Aspen.”
Mom’s voice reaches me, pleading, apologetic, hopeful.
I don’t acknowledge her and slip my hand into Blade’s and turning to him, smile into his protective eyes.
“Can we go home now?”
He winks, his expression tender, loving, and proud, and as we turn to walk away from my old life, my new one beckons me with open arms.
It’s done, and I’m confident that man can never hurt another woman, and I’d bet my life on that.