Cain rounds the car and opens the back door. All the while, I watch with bated breath as Ember stumbles out wearing the ugliest dress I think I’ve ever seen.
It’s not her style at all, and I can tell from Max’s grunt beside me that he’s thinking the same thing.
“Jesus. I hope she didn’t pick that thing. If she did, I’m definitely buying her dress when you two tie the knot.”
“When?” I chuckle.
“Oh, I assume you’ll have a ring on her finger by the time we make it back to the car.”
The first genuine laugh since she disappeared bursts from my throat because he doesn’t realize how right he is.
I lean over in front of him and pop the glove box, showing him the ring box I stashed in there when I came down to put our weapons in the car.
He shakes his head, turning his attention back to Lucas climbing out after Ember.
His arms wrap around her waist possessively, and I barely manage to swallow down the growl that tries to force its way to the surface.
Lucas guides her inside with Cain on their tail, his eyes moving over the street, but don’t snag on us before he heads inside after them.
“Killian’s in place?” I ask.
Max nods. “Yep. He’s inside with the officiant now.”
When the idea was floated to threaten the man who was going to marry my girl to another man, Darius was hesitant, but the rest of us had no qualms, and that was the plan we quickly set into motion.
“Let’s get this party started.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
EMBER
The small chapel is a far cry from any of the fancy churches I’ve seen people get married in on television.
It’s dark and run-down, and so small it feels crowded just with me, Lucas, and Cain standing between the pews.
“Get the officiant. I want to get this over with so we can get to the fun stuff.” He winks down at me, and I try my hardest not to dry heave at the insinuation.
Hard pass.
I watch as Cain disappears through a door, and I drag in a breath to steady my shaking hands. This might be the only chance I get.
I turn my back on Lucas and look around the space. The green carpet beneath our feet is straight from the eighties, and it’s so stained I’m glad I shoved my feet in these hideous heels that don’t quite fit. The alternative would definitely require a shot to avoid some disease that’s woven through the fabric.
An arm closes around my waist as I’m reaching into the top of my dress, and I pause as I’m tugged back against Lucas.
“Soon you’ll be all mine, Ember,” he murmurs, grinding his hips into mine, and for the first time, I’m grateful for all the layers of this ugly dress protecting me from his nasty penis.
“Yours, and all the men you whore me out to.” I supply dryly, slipping the blade between my fingers and carefully extracting it without drawing his attention to that hand.
He growls. “Watch your mouth, Ember.”
“Sorry,” I rush to say, inserting a small amount of fear into my tone. “I’m just making sure I have a clear understanding of how things are going to be.”
He tugs me harder into him, and his free hand glides up the front of my body before settling around my throat. “Maybe if you’re a really good whore, I won’t need to share you with anyone else. I bet your cunt is fucking paradise, seeing as it made the Hunter fall head over heels for you. A man like that doesn’t fall in love with someone who doesn’t have a pussy made of gold.”
His vile words roll over my skin, and I force down the bile that tries to escape.
Do not throw up. It’ll put a real wrench in my plan, and I hate vomiting even at the best of times.
