Chapter 21 #3
“Is she ready?” I hear the familiar voice of my father off in the distance.
“Yes, Shepherd Walter,” a man’s voice answers.
A flurry of orders are being given as I keep my head down to keep the world from spinning. I watch as rushed feet move all around, hustling to get into place.
“Time to go,” I hear then feel my body being lifted from the chair.
“I don’t feel so good,” I voice to no one in particular.
“It’ll be over soon,” I hear someone tell me, but I’m not sure where it came from.
Once we are under the tent, I look up and try to focus on the people in front of me.
On the left side of the tent, I see everyone dressed in their Fellowship best standing, watching as I’m forcibly escorted down the aisle.
Right before I make it to the first set of chairs, a bouquet of flowers are forced into my hand as the men hold onto me at the elbow and underneath my sweaty armpit.
On the right side of the tent are about a dozen men all dressed in black, wearing dark sunglasses, staring around the area and not at me.
They don’t even try to hide the weapons exposed for everyone to see.
At the end of the path, stands Papa and an older man wearing a tan suit and hat.
He looks as though he could be my grandfather, and the thought makes my stomach clench.
The lunch I had while James and I talked earlier threatens to make an appearance.
Please God help me!
The two men deposit me at the end of the aisle making sure I’m steady before releasing me and taking a few steps back, but staying close by. My body is trembling, and I’m afraid my legs might give out.
“Sutton, this is Juan José Sanchez,” Papa informs me in an emotionless tone. “Your husband.”
I look over at the man that Papa just announced, and my head starts to immediately jerk back and forth in quick succession. This can’t be happening, it can’t. I was supposed to get away from this place, find Mama, and we were going to be free.
The man, Juan José, looks at me from head to toe, inspecting every inch of me. My spine shivers at his scrutiny.
“So this is Sweet Sutton?” his thick Spanish accent rings throughout the tent. “You will make good addition to my collection, yeah.”
“No, please, I-I don’t want—” I start to say, but Papa grabs my arm and yanks hard, stalling my words and pleas.
Juan José chuckles at the action, turning to Papa.
“It is okay,” his broken English isn’t the best but can be understood as he waves off my outburst. The tears I’d been holding back breach my eyelids and start to fall down my cheeks. “Like everything else I have, I enjoy breaking in my toys and animals.”
I stiffen at the words as he continues to laugh, finding my distress amusing.
Papa begins the ceremony, and all I can think about is how I’m going to get away from all of these people.
I can’t run very far with my pregnant belly the way it is, not to mention, I’m not feeling very good.
Even if I were to get away, one of these men in black would scoop me up in no time or shoot me.
“…I do,” I hear being said across from me. My eyes focus on the older man in front of me.
Before Papa is finished reciting the next words, I interrupt, “No, I do not.” The firmness in my voice is steady and calm. I want it known that I don’t agree to this. The gasps from the people over my shoulder fills the tent and a low murmur of chatter begins to take hold.
As fast as a whip, Juan José snaps his wrist out and backhands my cheek, my head jolts to the side. I feel a trickle of liquid slide down my chin. My lip pulses as the man who just struck me leans in towards me.
“It would be wise to not make a fuss, yeah?” he states. “We do this easy way or I cut that bastard out of you and make you watch me drown it.”
I gasp at his words, and my eyes go round.
“Those biker bastards slaughtered my grandson and his men. My only heir. They owe me a son for a son.” His accent grows heavier the angrier he gets. “My Hector was a good boy. Good soldier.”
His words are chilling, and it feels as though a ghost just walked over my grave.
His grandson? My mind tries to think of someone named Hector. Beckett and Stone never talk club business in our presence unless it has to do with The Fellowship.
Hector…Hector…Hec—
Is he talking about the Vipers? The ones who ran Raegan and I off the bridge and shot at us? Killed Trick?
Ohmygosh!
Is this revenge? By taking and marrying me, raising Havoc’s baby?
My hand goes to settle on my lower stomach. Juan José’s eyes follow my movements.
“Yes, I will raise this bastard to take over my empire until you produce me with more sons,” he says. “This brat will grow up hating those bastards.”
“No,” I gasp barely above a whisper. There’s no way I’m letting this monster anywhere near my baby or me.
He takes a step into my personal space. I can feel the heat of his breath lancing across my skin.
“I will breed you like a mare, tied to a bed ’til I have my army,” he spews.
My head goes light, and the world around me sways.
I think I’ve just entered hell on Earth.