Page 55 of Filthy Little Regrets
Jennifer smiles, but she’s obviously not sure what to think and also professional enough not to ask if we’re actually planning to kill Mace.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “No one is dying today.”
“That’s all I need to know.” She grabs a brush and palette. “Let me work my magic.”
fifteen
MACE
The discomfort fluttering around in my chest has my fists clenching and unclenching. Dare casually sips on his scotch, eyeing my hands. I glare at him. He and his wife will be our witnesses. Remy is outside, shooting the shit with my guards. Crue is late as usual, but that’s fine. His ass kicking isn’t scheduled until later.
But I could really use a punching bag right now. I bounce on my toes, shaking out my arms the same way I prepare to go into the ring, trying to get this energy swirling inside of me out.
The Father sits straight as a rod in the chair next to Dare, eyes flicking between me and him like he isn’t quite sure who he should be more afraid of. The officiant is none other than the priest who married Rose and Dare. Dare has him by the balls for something. That’s the only reason he’d agree to this, but I don’t really care about what Dare has on him. I need him to do his job, but the judgment in his eyes makes my skin crawl.
How many aura points would I lose if I punched a priest?
“What the fuck are you looking at?” I growl.
He blanches and presses his lips together, averting his gaze.
Dare sighs and sets his drink aside. “You’re nervous.”
The words settle on my shoulders, and I stop moving, taking a breath and shaking my head. Shit. He’s right. I’m fucking nervous. I never get nervous. Not in the ring, not in the boardroom, not when dealing with Luca or Vito. Well, that’s not true. The only other time I was worried about what would happen was when Vito pulled Cassia into the room with us.
Her life flashed before my eyes. I hated the idea of living in a world without that angry little glare. It’s fucked, but I kind of love the way she hates me. I like the way she softens, too, without realizing it. The way she fights to cling to her anger and keep from laughing when I say something funny.
I almost had her earlier.
So why am I nervous?
The vows we’re about to take are no joke. In sickness and in health. Through the good times and the bad. Cassia doesn’t know how fucked in the head I really am. She doesn’t know that the same adrenaline that has me nervous to sayI dois rushing through my veins, practically rabid at the thought of laying Crue on his ass.
Cassia is so soft. Sweet, even, when she’s not scowling at me. She probably deserves better. The idea of her with anyone else has my shoulders bunching. The jealous possessiveness is overwhelming. My jaw clenches tight.
“The vein in your neck is about to pop.” Dare stands and walks over to me. “Do you want to punch something?”
“Are you offering?”
“You couldn’t hit me if you tried.”
I scoff. “Fuck you. I taught you half of what you know.”
Dare lifts a shoulder. “You have a punching bag. Besides, I’m too pretty to punch. Do you really want to make Rose mad?”
Glancing away, I release a hard breath between my teeth. The last thing I want to do is piss off his wife. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect her to be so...aggressive when she found out what happened with Cassia, and the slap to the face stung more than I care to admit. Maybe Dare has been teaching Rose how to hit. Either way, she’s Cassia’s best friend and this is Cassia’s day. I won’t ruin it for her any more than I already have.
“The bag will do,” I grumble, pivoting and storming out of the room and into the home gym. Dare stays behind to make sure the priest doesn’t run. I stop in front of the punching bag. The chains suspended from the ceiling clang together when my fist connects with the leather. I push air out of my lungs as my fists slam into the bag. Falling into a rhythm is as easy as breathing. The nerves banging around inside of me finally settle.
“Mace.” Dare’s voice cuts through my concentration minutes later. “She’s ready.”
Fuck.
There’s no music. No chorus. Nothing to announce her walking toward me, but the energy in the den shifts when she steps into the room. Every molecule is drawn toward her, the oxygen in the room thinning and sending my pulseracing as I lift my gaze from the floor and look at my future wife.
Fuck.
I can’t believe she’s finally mine.
