“Yes.”
“Keys?”
“Yes.”
“Suitcase?”
Miguel pointed at it. Justice grabbed it. “Okay, my friend. I think we’re ready.”
“Justice, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“You changed my life the day you arrived in Laguna Beach as our Chief of Police. I don’t know why you chose me to be part of this team to have your back, but I’m eternally grateful that you did.”
“You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known, Miguel. Now, let’s get you married.”
“Yes, Chief.”
The women had already arrived at the Spanish mission. Adrienne, Justice’s stepmother, had offered to coordinate the event to help the Washburns and the Riveras who had flown into California the previous day. Adrienne gathered the groomsmen in a small anteroom where she and Franklin, Justice’s father, pinned boutonnieres to their lapels. She ordered them to stay put until it was time to start. Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long.
At precisely five o’clock, Miguel and Justice joined Father Dominguez at the front of the sanctuary. Since Trey could play the piano and sing, he performed the traditional bridal march as the bridesmaids and groomsmen glided up the center aisle. Dozens of roses in floral arrangements perfumed the air. The music swelled voluminously when Julia appeared at the back of the church. Miguel’s jaw dropped when he saw her.
The bodice of her wedding gown was overlaid with delicate lace, interwoven with silver thread, and studded with pearls. The silky skirt fell straight down her slender body, highlighting the gentle curve of her hips. A long slit on one side revealed her shapely leg and thigh. Her hair had been curled, piled on top of her head, and intertwined with small white flowers. She had foregone a veil, which didn’t matter to him. In her hands sheclasped a lovely bouquet of cascading white roses adorned with greenery and babies’ breath.
As she grew closer, Miguel saw her dark eyes shining with love, hope, and faith. Any doubts he might have entertained about the wisdom of this decision fled in that instant. And when her father placed her hand in his, Miguel’s heart somersaulted. He flashed her a confident grin. Julia’s mouth curved into an answering smile.
Before Father Dominguez began the traditional ceremony they chose, Trey sang Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero.” Julia’s eyes shimmered with tears. At the end of the song, she murmured, “You’ll always be my hero, Miguel.”
“I love you, Jules.”
“I love you more.”
After Trey joined his wife Kerry in the congregation, Father Dominguez began to speak.
“Dearly beloved?—"
From outside, the roar of motorcycles circling the mission interrupted the ceremony. Instinctively, even before they perceived the danger, Trey, his father Cameron McAdams, and Franklin McQuaid shouted in one voice, “Get down!”
The wedding guests didn’t hesitate and hid themselves between the pews. The Laguna Beach cops and Finnigan drew their guns. The thought that they shouldn’t have them flitted across Miguel’s mind as he grabbed Father Dominguez’s arm and yanked him down, then shoved Julia behind him.
The sanctuary doors blew open as if a tornado had struck. Axalia Anderson, eyes wild and mouth salivating like rabid animal’s, rushed inside the mission with an AK-47 in her arms. She screeched something unintelligible, something insane, and pointed the rifle at Julia and Miguel. “You killed my brother! You killed my entire family! And now I’m going to kill ALL of you!”
The Laguna Beach cops fired. A hail of bullets struck her. Her body danced like a puppet, then collapsed.
Eerie silence followed in the wake of the gunfire. Then, a man dressed in black leather pants, a death metal T-shirt, black leather jacket, and a variety of chains stepped through the open doorway. He didn’t carry any visible weapons on him. The stranger lifted Axalia’s bloody body into his arms and cradled her, as if he were a parent mourning the loss of his child. His familiar eyes landed on Miguel. Justice. Owen. Hutch. Luca. Tawny.
“It’s over. Finally. For all of us.”
His gaze met Trey’s. A look passed between them, and they nodded at each other. The intruder left with his gruesome burden.
No one moved or spoke.
Eventually, Miguel murmured, “Holy Mary, Mother of God.Nash Carter.” So, he hadn’t hallucinated him after all. Questions ran rampant in his mind.
Leave it to Finnigan to break the ice or the horror or whatever the wedding guests were feeling after witnessing the shooting. “Well, Miguel, I think a real live, crazy, vindictive bitch crashing your wedding trumps a ghost crashing mine. Congratulations! You win.” He glanced at Father Dominguez who was frowning in disapproval. “Sorry, Father, for cursing.”
Nervous laughter echoed in the sanctuary as the wedding guests slowly returned to their seats.
