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One
“Fucking cops,” I mumbled, glaring at the line of police cruisers outside the cathedral. Frankie’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. He was too focused on protecting me while never touching me, which was for the best. With the heat and humidity, he was in danger of physical harm if he got too close.
Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip as I maneuvered my heavy gown, cursing the complicated, unbreathing undergarments my mom convinced me to wear. The smell of vomit mixed with mint wafted into my nose with every huff, making me queasy all over again.
“Why are they still here?” I zeroed in on a particular asshole. “They already have the groom. Are they looking to get the set?”
I raised my hand to flip off Detective Bennington’s smug ass, but Frankie caught it mid-gesture. “Get in the limo.”
“You’re no fun.”
“And you’re a fucking headache.”
“Love you too, Frankie.” I kissed the air as I got in the back with my mom, my dad followed right behind me, sandwiching me between my parents.
Frankie closed the door, shaking his head, no doubt happy to be rid of me.
“Sasha! What’s going on?” Mom gathered my hand in hers. “Why would they arrest Luca? And on today, of all days?”
I shook my head and turned to my dad for help. With his massive build stuffed in a tux, I wasn’t sure if it was the ninety-degree weather or the situation making his face as red as his hair.
He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Maggie, let the girl breathe. It’s been a long day.”
“I just don’t understand how they can do that to a man like Luca Moretti. Do they know who he is?” She squeezed my fingers so hard my pinkie throbbed. I slid out of her hold, wincing as the blood flow returned, flexing my hand repeatedly to regain feeling.
“I guess his name doesn’t matter much when it comes to murder,” Dad offered like he was helping.
He wasn’t.
“Well, I don’t believe Luca is capable of something like, like . . . that.” Mom huffed and settled back in her seat while she glared out the window at the police. “And for them to do all this on your wedding day?” She gripped her leather clutch so hard it creaked. “Despicable.”
I patted her thigh. “It’s okay, Mom. Luca and I are already married.”
Her head whipped my way so fast I worried she hurt herself. “What do you mean?” she shrieked, brushing her auburn hair from her cheeks.
“We eloped weeks ago. Just in case.”
Mom blinked, her mouth falling open. “You expected this?”
I looked away, my reflection in the partition the perfect manifestation of the day. All the beauty of the morning was gone. In its place was a hot damn mess of smudged makeup and flat hair. “We knew there was a possibility we wouldn’t make it to the wedding day.”
She laid a hand on mine. “And you still married him?”
I jerked away and slammed into Dad. “Yes, I still married him,” I hissed, turning my rank breath into a weapon against my mom. “If you have a problem with me, my choices, or my husband, you can go.”
The limo eased out onto the street, but I kept pointing at the door because she could tuck and roll for all I cared.
“Sasha—”
“I don’t mean to be a bitch, Mom, but today isn’t the day for your shit. I get it. I know what I signed up for.”
She gasped, her lips flapping. “Greg, aren’t you—” Mom leaned forward to look him in the eye, her beaded gown dragging against the seat.
“No, Maggie. Sasha’s a big girl. She knows what she’s doing.”
Like hell I did, but it was nice Dad had my back. Mom’s gaze ping-ponged between the two of us before nodding. This wouldn’t be the end of her worrying, but it was nice to not add it to the day.
“At least you’re already pregnant,” she muttered.
