Garrett left to go talk to a man that looked a lot like him who was dressed in SWAT gear.
I said, “I need to take a shower.”
“How about we just grab our bathing suits and a change of clothes and we turn this into a swim party? All the food can be moved to my place,” Webber suggested.
I looked at him. “You have a pool and didn’t tell me?”
Webber grimaced. “I don’t usually let anyone use it because this one’s mother throws a fuckin’ fit when my ‘disgusting friends’ come over. Then she uses that as an excuse not to give me my kid for the weekend.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Eedie apologized. “But if it makes you feel better, I told her I wasn’t coming back to her place anymore.”
“You what?” Webber asked at the same time that Cutter said, “Oh, thank God.”
In the end, Webber, Eedie, Cutter, and Milena squeezed into our car.
Dima was right.
It was too small to accommodate anymore.
The rest got Ubers to their places, which they’d change into their bathing suits and head to Webber’s place.
We had a great time, and Cakes got a pass for missing my wedding seeing as he made the best wedding cake on the planet.
All during the celebration dinner, though, we watched as an unknown man that’d been shooting at us during my wedding rampaged through the streets of Dallas.
And escaped.
Twenty-Two
Some things are better left alone. Like me.
—Text From Copper to Baker
COPPER
Married.
I had no clue that a piece of paper, two wedding rings, and the title would make me feel like I was on top of the world. But there I was, really feeling the high.
Holt was asleep in my arms.
My wife was stuffing her face with more wedding cake.
And my family and friends were all around, celebrating and having a great fuckin’ day.
All the kids had shown as the hours passed, and now Webber’s house was full to bursting.
The one damper on the entire day was that we still didn’t know who the man was that had shot at us today.
I’d had a prospect run by Joey’s house to make sure that the shooter wasn’t him, and the prospect had relayed that Joey was still exactly where I’d left him.
Meaning, we had no clue who’d been the target, or who the shooter had been.
What we did know was that we weren’t going to be playing by the rules when we dug into who the shooter might be.
One, because the shooter had nearly hurt a Truth Teller.
Two, because another one of the members in that wedding party happened to be the enforcer of the Russian Bratva, and the Pakhan of the Bratva didn’t take kindly to his family being put in harm’s way.
