Chapter 9
Aro
Marcus is acting weird.
And when Marcus gets weird, bad things happen.
I’m sitting beside him in the back seat of one of his SUVs, trying not to show how tightly my nerves are wound. On the surface, he looks calm, but his hand is clamped around my knee with enough pressure to bruise. I don’t dare say anything. I’ve learned better.
He wouldn’t tell me where we’re going. Just said it was a surprise.
I fucking hate surprises, and he knows it.
Especially Marcus’s, because they usually end with me naked, on all fours, pretending it was my idea.
The only thing keeping me from spiraling is Sean, who sits quietly in the front passenger seat.
Whatever this is, at least I know I won’t die. Probably.
We slow to a stop in front of a pristine, white church with stained glass windows glowing under the parking lot lights. I frown. Marcus and God have nothing in common, which makes this even more unsettling.
“We’re going to church?” I ask, carefully.
“Sort of.” He’s practically glowing now. “Come on... it’s your surprise.”
He climbs out of the car with more energy than he’s had all week. Great. Now he’s excited. I swear the man is bipolar.
Reluctantly, I open the door and step out. Sean is already there, shutting it behind me like always. He leans in, voice low enough to be lost to the dark.
“I don’t like this.”
“You and me both,” I murmur.
It’s a Saturday night, and the parking lot is deserted save for our SUV and the second one behind us full of Marcus’s guys.
This whole thing smells suspicious. We trade a look, Sean’s eyes sharp with concern, mine probably begging without meaning to, but there’s nothing we can do.
Marcus is already moving toward the doors, and what Marcus wants, Marcus gets.
I let him take my hand, even as my stomach clenches. His palm is damp. Marcus doesn’t sweat. Not ever.
He leads me up the steps like this is some fairytale date and not a setup. I glance back at Sean, still frozen by the car, his eyes locked on Marcus like he’s calculating how fast he’d need to move if things went south.
The front door creaks open. The sanctuary is small, but the vaulted ceiling and stained-glass saints do their best to impress.
A red carpet cuts between rows of wooden pews, leading straight to the altar.
Where a… priest… is waiting. He has white hair and robes and has a kind smile that says he has no clue what he’s about to be a part of.
We stop in front of him.
“Surprise!” Marcus announces, like this is the part where I start crying happy tears.
I lick my lips. “What’s the surprise, exactly?”
“We’re getting married!”
What. The. Fuck.
Marcus looks giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning. I freeze for half a second, then force a smile. Not joy. Not love. Just the kind of performance you give when you’re in too deep to scream.
“I love you, Aro,” he says, like it means something. Like he didn’t cheat on me last week. And last month. And the month before that. “I know I’m not perfect. I can be selfish—”
Understatement of the year.
“—but I want to make you mine. Officially. Say yes.”
It’s not a question. It’s a command, wrapped in red roses and empty promises.
My eyes flick toward the walls. His men are already in position, blocking exits, watching me like a prisoner. This isn’t a proposal, it’s a fucking trap.
“Yes?” he prompts, grinning like he just offered me the world.
I stretch my smile. “Uh huh. Yep.”
The moment the word leaves my lips, he crushes me into a hug.
“Perfect,” he says, already spinning into motion. “There’s a room in the back. Everything’s set up, and there’s a woman to help you get ready.”
I nod, but not because I agree. My voice is gone. My thoughts aren’t.
He snaps his fingers and, like clockwork, one of his men appears beside us. I turn to follow, mind racing. I need an exit. A weapon. A window. Something. If I marry him, I’ll never get out. Hell, I’m barely free now. I’m a possession, a kept thing, and a certificate will just make it legal.
“Not you,” Marcus snaps behind me.
I stop and turn. He’s talking to Sean, who’d started to follow.
“The perimeter’s secure,” Marcus says smoothly. “No one sees the bride before the ceremony.”
Sean halts mid-step. His jaw ticks. Eyes lock on mine. One look, and everything inside me starts to fracture. Mine say please get me out of this. His say I’m working on it.
“Of course,” he says evenly, stepping back.
Without him, I feel raw and cornered, but I don’t let it show. I’ve been playing this game for years. Smile, obey, survive.
As I pass through the side door, Marcus calls out after me, bright and smug:
“See you soon, wifey!”
Over my dead fucking body.
∞∞∞
My hands won’t stop shaking as some stranger pins my veil into place.
“There!” she chirps behind me. “You’re all ready.”
Fantastic.
I force myself upright on unsteady legs and turn toward the full-length mirror. The breath catches in my throat.
I look… bridal.
The dress is strapless satin, hugging every curve before flaring gently at the calves.
No lace, no glitter, just clean lines and quiet elegance.
My lips are painted a deep berry. My curls have been twisted into an updo with a few artfully placed tendrils around my face.
I look glamorous. Beautiful, even. Just not for the man I thought I’d marry.
The attendant hands me a bouquet of white lilies and adjusts the veil over my face like this is some kind of fairy tale.
“She’s ready!” she calls cheerily to one of Marcus’s guys.
I’ve already combed this room for exits. There’s nothing. No windows. One guarded door. I even asked to use the bathroom earlier, and Marcus’s guy followed me inside… and listened to me pee through the stall. So, yeah. We’re working with zero options.
I swallow hard and will myself to stop shaking as I walk the hallway that connects the back of the cathedral to the front, flanked by two of Marcus’s meatheads. My dress swishes with every step. The veil itches against my face. This is happening.
We round the corner, and I spot Sean by the double doors to the sanctuary. Jesus, he looks good dressed in a tux. When he sees me, his mouth parts slightly, and awe flickers across his face. Under any other circumstances, I would love to have him look at me like that.
“Aro,” he breathes. “You… you look…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. His eyes rake over me like I’m the only thing that exists. If I didn’t know he was gay, I wouldn’t believe it. He looks hungry. Licks his lips like I’m something he’s not supposed to want.
“You’re a vision,” he murmurs.
I blush, despite everything. “Thank you.”
“I’m supposed to walk you down the aisle,” he says, stepping beside me. I pull my arm from beneath the veil and link it with his. He leans down, breath brushing my ear.
“I’m sorry. I’ve gone over every scenario. I can’t find a way out.”
The soft skim of his lips on my skin sends goosebumps rippling across my arms.
“I’ve come to the same conclusion,” I whisper, voice lower than I intend. I clear my throat, straighten my spine. “Let’s just get it over with.”
Sean nods and signals to the guard that we’re ready.
I fumble my grip on the satin-wrapped bouquet, palms sweating, just as the first haunting notes of Here Comes the Bride echo from the organ.
He pats my arm gently, and I know what he’s really saying: I might not get out of this now, but I will sure as hell find a way out later.
The double doors swing open. Showtime. I paste on a smile like it’s part of my makeup and begin the march toward the altar. Marcus is waiting there, beaming like a groom who believes he earned me. I channel every ounce of fake joy I can conjure, but inside, I feel like I’m walking to my grave.
When we reach the altar, Sean hesitates before releasing my arm. Just a beat. Just long enough to make my knees weak. Then he moves to stand behind Marcus, leaving me alone on my side of the aisle.
The priest begins to speak. I catch fragments. Stuff about God, unity, love. But it all sounds like static until Marcus says his part loud and proud.
“I do.”
Fuck.
My heart lodges somewhere in my throat. It’s my turn now.
The priest turns to me, solemn and expectant. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I blink. The air feels thinner suddenly.
“I… I…” The words won’t come. They feel like poison in my mouth.
Marcus shoots me a warning look that says, get your shit together, and I almost do, but then, gunshots crack the silence like a whip.
Marcus’s head jerks toward the front doors, which are now closed again.
“Let me handle this real quick,” he says to the priest, like this is just another Monday. “Then we’ll continue.”
“Sean!” he snaps, and Sean’s already moving, gun drawn, eyes on me. He gently grabs my arm and pulls me down behind the altar where a small pulpit gives just enough cover.
“There’s a door off to the side,” he whispers. “We move fast, you hear me?”
More shots echo outside. My pulse is in my throat. My Glock is still in my purse which is… in the SUV. Useless. I rip the veil from my head and toss it aside, scooping up the front of my dress.
“Now,” Sean growls.
I crouch-run behind him, following his lead as he pushes through the side door, gun up, eyes sharp. He scans the hallway. Clear.
“That room I got ready in, it only has one door,” I whisper, pointing.
“We’re not going there.”
My heart sinks, but he’s already moving in the opposite direction. He leads me down another hallway and to a door I hadn’t noticed before.
“We can’t go outside!” I hiss. Shouting and gunfire still echo beyond the building.
“Aro, I need you to trust me,” he says, cracking the door. “My job is to keep you safe. I will. I promise. When I say run, we run.”
He pushes the door open wider, scans both directions. “Run!”
He takes off at a sprint. I follow, doing my best, but this damn wedding dress wasn’t made for fleeing. The satin tangles around my legs. I trip, just catching myself, but keep going.
By the time we reach the tree line, I’m gasping.
“Jesus. Your dress is so… white.”
I give him a look. “Yeah, Sean. That’s traditionally the color.”
He scowls. “I mean you’re lit up like a goddamn target. Take it off.”
“What?!”
“Take. It. Off.”
When I don’t move, he steps behind me, finds the zipper, and pulls it down. His fingers brush my spine, and my whole body tightens.
Now is not the time to be turned on.
He kneels, carefully tugging the dress over my hips. His breath hitches when it drops to the forest floor. I’m left standing in white lace lingerie and heels. Of course.
I turn and grip his shoulder for balance as I step out of the gown, but my heel catches. I stumble, but his strong hands fly to my hips, steadying me. For a second, we just… stare. Him kneeling at my feet, looking at me like I’m something he treasures. Wants, even.
Gunfire cracks in the distance. We snap back into motion.
“Let’s go,” he says, standing quickly. I catch him adjusting himself before he turns away. Well, damn. He has me so confused. He’s either the worst homosexual ever, or…
I kick off the heels and follow barefoot, wincing with every step across sharp pine needles and God knows what else. But I don’t complain. If Sean gets me out of this, I’ll deal with a few cuts.
We move through the trees until we can see the front of the church. The gunfire’s moved inside now. The parking lot is empty.
Sean pulls a set of keys from his pocket.
“Wait here. I’ll bring the car.”
“Got it.” I crouch behind a tree and hold my breath as he sprints across the lot. The car chirps as it unlocks. He jumps in, starts it.
The engine roar draws shouting from inside.
He’s halfway back when the first gunshot cracks through the air. I leap into the passenger seat just as he skids to a stop, and slam the door behind me.
“Seatbelt!” he barks.
The tires scream as we peel out. Another shot rings out behind us, but it’s too late. We’re gone.
I don’t breathe until we hit the main road.
“That seemed way too easy,” I say, still watching the rearview mirror. “Where did they come from? Where were their cars?”
“Don’t question it. Just accept the gift.”
He’s white-knuckling the wheel. I try to breathe through the adrenaline, but it’s not working. The veil’s off, the dress is gone, and all that’s left is the girl who still knows how to run.
A few minutes pass before I realize we’re not heading back toward home.
“Where are we going?”
Sean glances at me, then back to the road. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say without thinking, because I do.
“Good.” He exhales slowly. “Remember that, because we’re about to do some real questionable shit.”