23. Mack #2
Oh, it’s a gala now. Not an engagement party. A whole fucking shindig. I’m guessing Amanda has tons of fun ideas on how to entertain people while she forces Hux’s hand into this bullshit marriage.
Poor guy. I almost feel sorry for him. Then, I remember how he scoffed at our girl’s memory and went along with this shammy bullshit.
Damn. Maybe I do need to lay off the drinks.
I stare at my champagne glass with narrowed eyes. This should be my enemy. Yet, I want more. Now, where’s that waiter with refills?
Huxley raises a brow, darting his eyes from Amanda to Franco.
“Oh? A discussion without me?”
Amanda giggles, swatting at his arm playfully. “Oh, I figured you were so busy! Besides, I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little girl.” Her cheeks heat slightly.
Yeah, I bet she’s been planning their wedding her entire life. She’s been mooning after his ass since preschool. Can anyone say psycho?
I’m drawn out of my internal musings by a discreet elbow into my ribs. Again. This fucker. He doesn’t fight at the Coliseum, but he’s about to if he doesn’t stop. I narrow my eyes at him, and he raises his brows.
“You’re thinking with your face again,” he huffs quietly, as the others around us talk. I instantly fix my expression, trying to look more neutral. Something that doesn’t say—I’m plotting murderers and shit. “Now you look constipated,” JJ mutters again, pulling away from me.
Well fuck. Can’t I ever win? The answer is no.
“A month? What’s the rush?” Hux asks in an even tone, taking a sip of his drink to hide the darkness clouding his features.
I must not be the only one plotting murders and hiding bodies in my head.
He may be able to fool the other goons with his blasé bullshit. But with JJ and me? Well, we see right through his transparent ass. Every faint twitch beneath his skin and every shuffle of his feet is like Morse code. Beep beep equals—he’s fucking pissed.
More pissed than when Franco ordered him to propose to her. More pissed than when Franco told him he was going to marry her out of obligation and nothing more, like he didn’t have any sort of choice in the matter. And well, I guess he doesn’t.
Our lives are not our own. We’re little pawns dancing to his tune.
“No rush,” Amanda says quickly, attempting to placate Hux.
That’ll never work. Not with her. She’s always been a whiny, miserable bully with her eyes on Hux. Somehow, she’s gotten her way. Again and again. It’s a never-ending cycle with her.
“It was the only time this space was available. Business is booming here. So we had to fit it in before the actual wedding.” Franco doesn’t elaborate further.
He doesn’t have to. And God knows Huxley won’t argue with him. Not a lot, at least. Or to his face. We all know the consequences of speaking our minds, and it’s not good. So, we’ll sneak back home and mock Franco behind his back like any loyal sons would do.
“Do I get any say in our celebration?” Hux’s jaw tics several times as his fingers flex at his side. Big breaths puff from between his lips, blowing out the frustration I’m sure he’s eager to get rid of.
Good. We can meet in the basement and shed some damn blood. I’m wired for it. Need it. Just like he does.
Amanda’s lips part, and she nods. “Of course! We can sit down and plan the party! You’re the groom after all. Maybe we can spend some time together.” She bats her eyelashes. “I can come over and we can…”
“No,” Hux huffs. “Not at my house.” Somewhere she’ll never be welcomed. It’s our sacred space. For now.
After the wedding, I have no clue what will happen.
Will they be given a fancy new house around town to show off their newly acquired status, or will Franco force Amanda to move in with us?
Fuck, I hope not. Whatever decision they make on our behalf, I’ll still be around, waiting for medical school while everyone else graduates and goes on to do whatever the hell it is they’ll do.
The future holds so many unknowns, and it scares me more than I ever thought.
Especially since we don’t get a say in our own lives.
I mean, I wanted to be a doctor when I was a kid. I wanted to help kids in situations like mine. Notice the signs of abuse and neglect and get them the help they need. It was all I ever dreamed of, besides the freedom of it all.
But now?
I’m not even on the path I saw myself going down.
I’m studying for the betterment of the Syndicate.
Not the kids. Or even myself. All so I can be the house doctor who tends to all the idiots’ wounds when they get shot for not clearing a place properly.
Because Doctor Rhodes is on his way out and I’m on the way in, locked into the position for life.
I’ve been training with him on the side, too.
Add that to the list of bullshit Franco put on my plate.
Fuck me.
Hux must feel the same as me, with his lips pulled into a frown and the vein on his forehead protruding like it might burst and splatter us all. Fuck. Hux might lose his shit once and for all. And the cause of it all is the girl currently making googly eyes at him.
What a sight that would be. I can imagine all the carnage after Huxley unleashes his demons and lets them roam free.
I smile to myself. Discreetly, of fucking course. I can’t have Amanda knowing I’m thinking about her demise at Huxley’s hands.
He doesn’t want her. Or want to be around her. Have her in his future. Be here. Or have an engagement party.
I don’t blame him. Maybe we can send her away somewhere.
Like the bottom of the ocean with concrete shoes?
Here, sharky, sharky, here’s some delicious fresh meat.
Nah. That would be too obvious. Besides, I’m sure Preston would go scorched earth to find her.
Father of the year and all. Maybe we should toss him, too.
Two birds, one stone kind of situation. Ugh. Then Franco would be all “where’s Preston and Amanda?” and we’d have to lie our asses off to his face. Something he doesn’t take too kindly to, and he would be able to sniff out our lies within minutes.
Franco assesses Hux and Amanda with a distant look. Gone is the bright smile he once held, and in its place is an expression I can’t quite figure out. He takes a drink of his champagne and stares off into the distance with indifference.
“We’ll have thrones on the stage!” Amanda says excitedly again, ignoring Hux’s rejection.
“And crowns made of diamonds and rubies. We’ll be the king and queen of the gala.
Ballgowns and suits. Open bar. We’ll even have aerial silk performers, fire dancers, and oh—a beautiful symphony orchestra, right over there!
” She gestures toward a small area off to the side of the stage, grinning.
“It’ll be magical,” she sighs overdramatically. “The perfect engagement party.”
I raise my brows. “The king and queen?” I mutter sarcastically, but it draws eyes to me. Oops. Must have said that louder than I thought. “What the hell is the damn theme of this party, anyway?” That was a smooth recovery, right? Yeah. That won’t get me whooped later by Franco.
“Indeed, Son,” Franco says without glancing my way. “The newest Greenwood Royalty. On my dime, of course.” He offers them a cordial smile, but it feels a little more ominous than anything. Something hidden behind his beady little eyes. Or shit, maybe I am a little too tipsy right now.
“Yeah, magical,” Hux says, but his sarcasm takes a leap over Amanda’s head while she grins up at him with parted lips and glazed-over eyes.
Franco’s brows furrow as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, staring at the number flashing across the screen. His fingers tighten, turning white, and he mutters unintelligible words under his breath.
Funny, it seems he’s important enough to still have his phone when we all had to leave ours at the door along with everyone else. Perks of being the boss. I guess.
“If you’ll excuse me.” He nods to each of us as he steps away and walks through the door to a private area.
Preston hovers for two more seconds before meandering away with a simple goodbye and narrowed eyes on his daughter, who sways to the music that has started up again while smiling happily to herself.
I think she’s on drugs. Maybe high on life. Or too drunk to function at a normal level. Whatever it is, I want to run and hide away from her existence. At least her overly friendly friends aren’t hovering around the edges, too.
“So planning soon?” Amanda asks, batting her eyelashes again.
“Sure,” Hux placates her again with a tight smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have recruits to take care of.” He gestures to the group of guys huddling together near the stage, loudly celebrating their new titles.
Idiots.