Page 4 of Wraith
“Ami,” Stephanie scolds softly. “We don’t know that we have to give up anything. I’m not planning on giving up modelling.”
“No? Our father told us that we were expected to produce children. You going to do that with a baby inside of you?”
Stephanie’s lips thin out. “I think that will be between my husband and myself. I’m on birth control. Far as I know, he can’t stop me from taking it.”
Ami’s eyes widen a little. Stephanie is generally very sweet, and her words are spoken with such forceful confidence that we’re both a little shocked.
Stephanie joins us, taking our hands in both of her own. We stand like that, a little triangle. No matter what was going on in our lives, in our worlds, we’ve always held together in whatever ways we can.
“We don’t know what those men look like or what our lives will be like with them, but we’ll be together here in this little shit town and we have each other,” Stephanie assures us, her normal calm back in place. Her pale throat bobs and I can tell what an effort she’s making to be brave. I love her even more for it. “If one of us isn’t getting treated right, we’ll make a pact right now that if our father won’t help us, we’ll help each other. If anyone touches either of you, I’ll fucking castrate them. I promise you that.”
Ami snorts, but it turns into a quiet laugh. “I’d like to see that. My sister the ball butcher.”
Stephanie giggles too, and it releases some of the tension. “Swear it too. Swear that we’ll have each other’s backs. We might only be half-sisters, and our father might be a real bastard, but we’re family. Our blood is thicker than anything they can do to us.”
“I swear it.” I force my voice not to waver.
“I swear it too,” Ami says vehemently.
“Well, maybe after a while we can get a divorce. Maybe in a few months when everything’s calmed down,” Stephanie says hopefully, but her face looks anything but hopeful.
Ami winks. “And if that fails, we’ll start sharpening our knives.”
I know my father is going to come into the room at any minute to drag us out to be united to men who we don’t even know, but right now, with my hands joined to my sister’s sticky palms, a strange sense of calm descends over me.
It might just be the eye of the storm, but holding onto hope, and each other, is all we can do.
Chapter 3
Wraith
New dress shirt and suit jacket aside, I’m still a damn mess when I enter that hall and am forced to the front to stand beside Gage and Wing. At least I got my puking over and done with. Gage should have given it a try, because at the moment, he’s green as fuck. Wing is a little calmer, though not by much.
Edge stalks up to the front before I have a chance to eyeball everyone in attendance. One side for The Riders and their old ladies and children, another for Viking and his bastards, who, in a few short days, are going to officially be a part of our club—Jacksonville chapter, Helena will remain the OG. It’s enough to induce another round of voluntary heaving.
Our VP stops in front of us three sorry looking fools who somehow got handpicked by our Prez for this. Edge nods slowly. I can see relief in his eyes when they flick to me. The shit storm that he caused by shacking up with Steel’s daughter has pretty much passed. He left The Riders, only to be asked back. He’s sporting his colors like a proud motherfucker. His hair is slicked back, and he’s freshly shaved for the occasion.
He leans in, because Edge is Edge and he’s what I’d consider a friend, as well as a brother. “Don’t fuck this up. If you even think of running, I’ll tackle you to the fucking ground and drag you back here kicking and screaming like a little bitch.”
“What about the other two,” I say dryly. “You gonna give them the speech as well.”
“Was planning on it,” he nods. “Although Gage isn’t looking so hot. You should have told him to do his puking beforehand, not all over his bride.”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same.”
Hearing his name, Gage leans in. He truly does look terrible, his skin ashen, a sheen of sweat shining on his brow. Edge sidesteps past me and claps the guy on the back. “Hang in there, son.”
It’s a little ridiculous hearing him call the guy that, because Edge is only six years older than Wing.
“Never thought I’d see the day you’d get married.” Edge turns back to me. “I guess this is the only way you’d find a willing bride. One who doesn’t know you and your smart mouth.”
“Doubt she’swilling,” I mutter. “Though any woman who ever met my mouth didn’t have much to complain about after.”
Edge leans in another inch and sniffs at me, ignoring the fact that I sweep my tongue over my lips pointedly. “Fuck. You stink. Didn’t anyone give you a bottle of mouthwash to rinse yourself out with after all that barfing?”
“Thanks so much, sweetheart. Didn’t know you wanted a kiss, but I’m touched by your concern.”
Edge rolls his eyes. He glances over his shoulder at the Olson bastard clan, then pulls a flask from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. All The Riders wore their patches to the hall. It doesn’t seem fair that us victims have to be victimized further with the stupid tuxes and shit.
