Page 70 of Bossy Bride: Emma and Jesse

“This has to be a joke. Right?” she pleads.

I turn my head to look at her, not sure what to say. “I don’t know, Emma. But I’m not going to take any chances. Not when it comes to you. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For dragging you into my stupid, fucked-up life. If you weren’t with me none of this would be happening to you.”

She huffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s got to be fake.”

“Well, if it is… then why are those two dudes next to the van holding zip ties and black hoods?”

“Oh, my God,” she whispers. “We’re gonna die.”

“We’re not. Well, you’re not. Whatever they want, I’ll give it to them. They want me? Fine. They can have me if they let you go.”

“Fine?” she hisses. “No! That’s not fine. We were married four times today. What part of that whole ‘till death do us part’ thing don’t you understand?”

“Well… not to be a buzzkill here, but we didn’t actually get married at any of those weddings, Emma.”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s the thought that counts! We stood up four times in front of people with the intention of being married! It counts!”

We reach the men. They spin us around and zip-tie our hands and then drop the hoods over our heads. We’re walked forward and we climb into the back of the van. There are no seats or anything, so we back up against the side and lean into each other.

The doors slam closed and then there’s nothing but silence. A few seconds later the van jostles back and forth as the driver gets in. Then we’re moving.

There’s no way to tell which direction we’re headed or where we’re going. And for a long while there’s no real road noise either. But then eventually it becomes clear that we’re back in the city. Whether this is Vegas or not remains to be seen, I guess. But there’s stop-and-go traffic, and long waits at stoplights, and lots of turning.

Then we’re going downward and Emma has to brace herself against me so she doesn’t fall over. The tires squeal with a familiar and distinct echo as we spiral down a ramp.

“A parking garage,” Emma whispers. “I think we’re in a parking garage.”

I think she’s right. This can’t be good.

The van stops and almost immediately someone is opening the doors and pulling us out. They say nothing. And even though I want to ask all the questions, there’s no point. They were probably instructed to be quiet and just bring us in.

All we can do is walk. Someone has a firm grip on my arm, leading me along a long hallway. I can hear people. I feel like we’re close to a very crowded place. A casino, probably. But which one? I consider yelling. Calling for help. But the low murmur of people isn’t that close. It almost feels like we’re in a separate part of a building. If I called out no one would hear me. Well, no one except for the person who has a hold of my arm.

I force myself to be calm. Once they take the hood off and we know where we are, I can try to negotiate.

Maybe they only want money?

God, I hope they only want money.

We enter a new room filled with the sounds of generators. Maybe AC units or something similar. All I know is that the crowd hum is gone and in its place is the white noise of machinery.

We stop.

We wait.

The person who had a hold of my arm lets go and then I can hear the faint sound of footsteps over the noise in the room.

“Hey!” I call.

“Oh, my God,” Emma says. “What’s happening? Did they just leave us here?”

But then someone is behind me. I try to turn around, but another person grabs my shoulder.

Strong hands grab my shoulders, holding me still, and I think to myself… This is it. It all ends here. In Vegas, after a crazy day of weddings where we never actually managed to get married. In some dark, kinda stinky room that reminds me of…