Page 130 of Jace
I’m his queen.
His woman.
Forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
JACE
Sasha gazesaround the Dead Good Brewery taproom in awe. The old converted barn with its vaulted ceiling, whirling industrial fans, and lights twinkling from the rafters makes it appear even loftier. The crowd is lively as she marvels, “This is for beer?”
“It’s a brew fest today. A competition.” I pull chairs out for her and Vivian. They settle around a wooden table. “It’s not normally this busy.”
“The fuck you say?” A heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder. “We’re always busy.”
Leave it to Wilder to clock us in a heartbeat. He winks, twiddling his fingers at Vivian. “How’s my little buttercup?”
“Shut up.” She smiles daggers at him.
“Thirsty,” Grant booms. He’s here without Delphine, which means I have to babysit his boisterous ass.
Wilder signals for a server, who promptly appears. “Give ’em a round on me,” he orders.
This is his family’s brewery. Wilder and his cousins, Bishop and Remi, run it. To outsiders, it sits on a former cattle ranch hidden in the Lowcountry of Georgia.
Nowadays, they use the grain for an artisanal, farm-to-table beverage experience. They’re award-winning brewers.
But to the few in the know, The Lawless Ranch has a tragic history of outlaws and loss no one dares to speak about. The cousins use the brewery to hide their vigilante vocations. Next to Bishop and Remi, Wilder is one of the best contract killers.
Grant and I take our seats across the table from the women as Grant huffs at him, “A round, my ass. We’ll take a keg.”
Sasha leans over to Vivian. “What is keg?”
“Too much beer and a headache,” Vivian mutters.
Sasha thinks we’re here to get her out from under our mom’s protective thumb. It’s half true.
We’re also here to explore a plan, per Axel’s demand. He’s working on the legal nightmare of citizenship for Sasha, but since she was born into the Russian underground with no documentation and trafficked here, it’s not easy.
“Would the little lady prefer vodka?” Wilder tips his baseball cap toward Sasha like he’s a cowboy. “Or I got some shine I’ve been brewing.”
Sasha tilts her head, her sable hair held back with an ivory fabric headband, her big aqua eyes blinking, curious. “Shine?”
Grant snarls at Wilder. “Give my sister moonshine, and I’ll drown you in it.”
“What is moonshine?” Sasha whispers to Vivian again.
The two have become close. I think Vivian understands what it’s like to be vulnerable and exposed, so she’s quite protective of Sasha.
“It’s an illegal liquor and death in a cup,” she answers Sasha before glaring at Wilder. “Was going after my best friend not good enough for you? Now you want to go after my sister? If so, think again, fucker. I’ll shoot your balls off with my rifle and won’t miss.”
I lean back in my chair, letting my future queen reign.
With every passing day, this badass side of Vivian emerges. It was always there. I’d catch glimpses when she was pissed, usually at tangled charging cords, which was cute. But now she uses it to defend herself and Sasha.
Sure, Sasha isn’t her sister-in-lawyet, but she will be.
I’m going to marry the hell out of Vivian Tate. I already have her ring. Just need the right moment.
