Chapter 12
Paige realized her mistake as soon as she got to her car. She hadn’t charged the extra cell phone in her bag. Rookie mistake. She’d been out of the game too long, thank goodness. But what that meant was nobody knew she was coming back for the wedding.
Oh, well. There was no help for it. According to Will, he’d be there and that was all that mattered. If he said he’d be there, she knew he’d be waiting at the altar for her. Joy washed over her for the thousandth time. They were getting married.
Before she could think about marrying Will, she had to deal with her family. It was time she stopped running from them and finally took her life back. Her dad had given her their room number when he’d texted earlier. All she had to do was confront them.
The speech she’d rehearsed all the way back to Zachsville played on an endless loop in her brain. If she was honest, it’s a speech she’d been rehearing all her life. She wasn’t like them. She knew that for certain now.
She raised her shaking hand to knock, but the door flew open before she could bring her hand to the wood. Rick stood with a suitcase in each hand and one under his arm. His shocked expression would’ve been comical if not for the sneer that chased it away.
“What the hell do you want?”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Packing.”
“Packing?”
“I didn’t fucking stutter. Now get the hell out of my way.” He shoved past her and headed for the elevator.
She cautiously strolled into the suite. Angelique sat in an armchair with her legs thrown over one side, picking the polish off her nails. A muffled curse came from the bedroom. She’d seen this more times than she cared to remember. They were bugging out. This usually happened after they were discovered, or as soon as the con was over, and almost always in the middle of the night.
“What’s happened?”
Angelique looked up from her task and shot Paige the biggest death glare she’d ever received. “Your fiancé’s what happened.”
“Will?” She reached for the sofa back to steady herself.
“Yes, Will,” her sister mocked.
“Is he alright?”
Angelique continued picking her polish, but otherwise stayed mute.
Paige grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. “You tell me what happened, or I swear, you’ll regret the day you were born.”
“Raven.” Her father’s tightly controlled voice broke through her furious haze.
She strode to him and stood toe-to-toe with the man who’d raised her to be everything she never wanted to be. “What have you done to Will?”
“Nothing.” Her father crossed his large arms over his chest. “What you should be concerned with is what Will’s done to your family.”
“Wh…what?”
“Your fiancé,” his face screwed up like he smelled something dead, “came here a little less than an hour ago and told us we have an hour to get out of Zachsville and never show our faces here again, or he’ll turn us into the FBI.”
Pride, fear, disbelief swirled through her brain, and she couldn’t decide which question to ask first.
“Richard, we have ten minutes,” her mother said.
“Yes, my dear. So, I guess the question is, Raven, what are you going to do to protect your family?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” her mother asked.
“Not one damn thing.” She interlocked her fingers like she was praying, spit three times over each shoulder, then rubbed her palms together, the finally pulled her hands apart. “I disavow you.”
“Raven.”
Her father’s harsh tone had zero effect on her.
“That’s what I came to say. I am no longer one of you, I haven’t been in a very long time, but now it’s official. You will not contact me, you will not speak of me, you will forget I even exist, and I will do the same to you.”
The fire that burned in her father’s onyx eyes might’ve scared her, but what she’d done was binding and he couldn’t touch her anymore. In their culture and for her family, the disavow oath was law. The theatrics weren’t entirely necessary, but to get the point across she did it like she’d seen her older relatives do it. “I should’ve done that ten years ago, but I was a scared, traumatized kid, and all I wanted was to be away from you all. But now it’s done.”
Without a backward glance, she left her family, and she never looked back.
Paige sped awayfrom the farmhouse into town. Lucky Will liked her without a ton of makeup on, and with her hair up in a simple twist, because that was what he was getting today.
Today.
She was getting married today. A lightness she’d hadn’t experienced since she ran from her family carried her along.
She was free. Had been free—she’d just needed to stand up and recognize it.
The song on the radio blared through the speakers, and she couldn’t remember a day she’d been happier. That happiness was short-lived, though, when she saw police lights in her rearview mirror.
“Damn it.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Thirty minutes. There wasn’t time for this.
“Ma’am.” A tall officer sauntered up to the car window.
“Oh, Hank, thank God it’s you.” Relief washed over her. Hank would let her go on a warning, or at the very least let her handle this later.
He tipped his hat back and surveyed the surrounding area. “Do you know how fast you were going, Ms. White?”
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Um – no, but I’m trying to get to the church, Hank. I’m sorry, can we take care of this after the wedding?”
“’Fraid not, Ms. White. I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle.” He took a step back to let her exit the car.
“What? Hank, I’m on my way to get married. Why do you keep calling me Ms. White? You know me. I’ll pay the ticket, just write it up and mail it to me.”
He hitched his head to the left, indicating she should get out and not argue. “Ma’am.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Why are you being so weird?” She opened the door, gathered the train of her wedding dress in one hand, and got out. “What is going on?”
Before she knew what was happening, Hank slapped one end of a pair of handcuffs to her wrist and the other end to his own. For the first time, she noticed he was wearing a suit along with his cowboy hat. “Hank, what the hell are you doing?”
“Well, ma’am, there’s a BOLO, be on the lookout,” he helpfully explained, “for a runaway bride.” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and read, “Curly black hair, coffee eyes, about five-seven, who goes by the name Paige White and makes…”
“What?”
He glanced down at the notepad again and cursed under his breath. His lips pressed together so tightly it looked like they were sewn shut. “Damn it, Will. What a bunch of – I’m not calling him to tell him I found you since he’s making me say this fool thing. It’s embarrassin’.”
“Just read it!” Didn’t he know her entire future hung on the next thing he said?
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “And makes Will Sinclair’s heart sing,” he said it in a rush like the words would shred his man card.
Something sweet and sappy spread through her whole body. If possible, she loved Will more than she had only moments before. And if he ever accused himself of being boring again, she was going to slap him.
Hank flipped the notebook closed and slid it into his pocket. “That would be you, correct?”
She couldn’t control the smile that blossomed across her face. “Guilty as charged, officer.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me.” He led her to the squad car, unlocked the cuffs, and settled her into the backseat.
“Is this totally necessary?”
The look he gave her indicated it was more than necessary.
“Fine. You are taking me to the church, right?”
He slid on his aviator sunglasses. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Hank Odom, you better be taking me to the church, or I swear…”
His dark eyes peeked over the top of the shades. “It’s a federal offense to threaten an officer of the law. Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble as it is?”
“Oh, for the love of…” With a huff, she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Just get me to the church.” This was humiliating. Maybe if she pretended she was a princess with her own personal chauffeur on her way to meet her prince it would help.
She took in the bars dividing the front seat from the back, the smell of dirty feet and puke that clung to the upholstery, and Hank’s shotgun mounted on the partition between them.
Maybe more like a redneck princess. Good enough.