Page 5 of Not Your Romeo
I couldn’t have kept the distaste off my features if I was sober, with all that whiskey? I know damn good and well she read the silence and my expression for exactly what it was. I hadn’t been a religious man when I enlisted. Seeing what I did shook and shattered my faith in humanity. Losing my daughter, Ruby, shattered more than that. Before Sean dragged me along to fetch the priest, I hadn’t been inside a church since Ruby’s funeral.
I turned, shaking my head as I stormed across the back lawn, grateful at least that we were outdoors and not stuck in a church where I’d be haunted the whole ceremony.
I froze half-way up the aisle when I spotted my son in the crowd. Sean had taken him captive earlier this week, and I hadn’t seen him since. He looked healthy enough, save for the bruising beneath his left eye. Talon, my informally adopted son, was sitting on one side of him. Cane, one of my club’s enforcers, was on the opposite side.
Sean caught up with me finally and placed a hand on my shoulder while beaming like we were old friends.
“You okay?” Sauce mouthed.
I grunted, nodded, and kept it moving.
A wedding tune was struck in the distance, and I realized that was what all the clowns were working on when we arrived. I sighed, but didn’t bother turning to watch her. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was as thrilled about this shit as I was.
The breeze blew and my mind churned.
Sean said he was still controlling Sammy’s pace and Sauce was here.
The thought that I might have inadvertently sentenced two biological children and Talon to death if this all went wrong was enough to sober me a little.
Warm, timid fingers slid across my palm. They along with the subtle sound of her nervous breath stirred me from my thoughts.
I blinked, and a hot tear clung to the corner of my left eye while my lungs greedily sucked in air. I didn’t mean to, but I clung to her hand like the world might stop spinning if I let go.
Chapter Four
Feral Heartbeat
Roisin
No one had ever held onto me like that before. I kind of felt bad for carrying on about him not being Catholic. It really wasn’t something I cared about one way or the other, but I knew it would matter to Sean. Not enough to call it off, apparently, but I saw the way he winced. I feathered my thumb along the outside of the stranger’s hand.
He was still a stranger to me. Father McDaniels had started the ceremony, but I was so moved by the man beside me and his brief show of emotion that I’d missed the part where he welcomed the crowd and gave our names.
His leather vest said Dirty Savages on the back. I’d heard of them. They were rivals of Zander and the assholes who’d robbed me.
I had to admit, there were worse people to be stuck with.
I took in the patch on his chest that said, President, and after a few moments of studying him, I decided he was kind of cute for an older guy. He had a little bit of heart, too, so maybe that grumpy demeanor and stern gaze would be tolerable after I got used to it.
“Wyatt, if you would repeat after me,” Father McDaniels instructed, and my gaze snapped back to his face.
Wyatt?
He didn’t look like a Wyatt. His eyes were dark-brown jewels earlier, glistening wildly when I first met him. Now, they had a hint of green in them, but were still more brown than anything. His hair was dark and short. Fine, tiny lines emerged at the corner of his eyes as he subtly squinted, focusing on the priest and his words. With his head turned just slightly, I noticed a scar, high on his neck that I hadn’t noticed when I took his hand earlier.
I hated speaking in front of people. At the university, I once had to do a presentation for a biology class and lost my voice in front of thirty people as I stood before them. Somehow, this felt different. None of the people behind us even registered beyond a passing thought in my mind. I’d even stopped sulking about wearing a dress, something I hated.
The only thing that mattered, or existed for the next twenty minutes was us, and McDaniels.
Not that any of that saved me when it was my turn to speak.
My brain went to war with my tongue.
“Repeat after me, child,” he began, and I nodded in a delayed fashion.
Somewhere along the way, I lost focus, and my gaze returned to Wyatt. I became hyper-aware of his intent stare a split second before I realized McDaniels wasn’t speaking anymore. The warmth in my cheeks made me inwardly curse. I had no idea how long I’d been standing there, checked out.
“I– I Roisin Kilbride,” I started out strong, staring into those hazel eyes.
