Page 26 of Bombshell Brides


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“Shit,” Gianni breathes, and I nod. There’s a ten ton weight on my chest. “We need to get everyone out of there before they realize.Shit.”

I open my mouth to give an order. Then close it again.

So there might be a bloodbath in this church. Fine. I have more urgent concerns, and right now, she only has a small head start.

“You deal with it.” I stride into the bathroom, reaching up to tease the scrap of lace away from the window frame. My words echo against the tiles. “Get everyone back to the compound and hole up. Put the word out that it’s not safe.”

The wispy fabric is soft between my fingers. The Serpicos won’t take her back after this, and she’ll have nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“You’re—you’re leaving?” Gianni sounds winded.

“Yes.” I turn and fix him with a smirk. “I’m going to fetch my bride.”

Mia

Ikick my heels off three blocks from the church. Normally I’d rather stab a fork in my eye than run barefoot down these sidewalks with their burning hot paving stones and specks of sticky, ancient gum. But I’ve always thought I’d rather die than betray my family too, and it turns out I don’t mind at all if they betray me first.

Itoldthem. I said I’d never marry Leo Palladino, not while I draw breath, and what did they do? How did they treat their beloved Serpico princess?

They told me that my breath is optional.

Well, I pick secret door number three: getting the hell out of here. Stealing a credit card and climbing out of that window. Those assholes can face Leo Palladino’s wrath alone.

Puffy white skirts tangle around my legs as I run, beaded embroidery jingling and feet slapping against the sidewalk. There’s a stitch in my side and this bra isnotintended for support, but I won’t slow down, not for anything.

If I know Leo Palladino—and despite only sharing one brief conversation, I think I do—he won’t simply let me go. He’ll come after me, and I need to be far, far away from here when that happens, because I’ve served him a terrible insult. In our world, he’d be in his rights to kill me.

Sprinting away from the church, my reflection whips across shiny boutique storefront windows. I’m a blur of white skirts and a trailing veil. A true runaway bride. And this is no good, because every asshole in the area is staring at me, shielding their eyes against the sun, and I couldn’t be more freaking noticeable if I tried. If Leo comes along here asking about me, he’ll find me in ten seconds flat.

A shop bell jingles. I fall into a clothing store, breathing hard, spots floating in my eyes as I adjust to leaving the bright sunshine of the sidewalk behind.

“Miss?” A young guy blinks at me from behind the counter. His hair is dyed pink and shaved on one side, and a steel ball glints in his eyebrow. The name tag on his black t-shirt says Kyle. “Uh. Are you alright?”

I rummage in the front of my dress and his eyes go wider, but Kyle slumps with visible relief when I pull out my aunt’s stolen credit card. What did he think I had down there, a gun? Or was he afraid I’d pull my tits out? Calm down, Kyle.

“I need a new outfit. Right now.” I march across the polished floorboards, bare feet sticking to the wood. “Shoes too. Something practical. Something I can run in.”

Kyle sucks his teeth, peering around the racks of clothes dotted through the store. There are sparkly dresses and layered skirts. Sheer blouses and leather pants. Not a ton of sportswear. “I don’t know… this season we’ve really gone for more of a glam punk vibe…”

I smack the credit card down on the counter. “If you find me a suitable outfit in the next three minutes, you can buy one item for yourself, too. No price limit.”

A hungry gleam comes into the young man’s eyes. I know that look. Kyle looks at the summer blazers over my shoulder like Leo Palladino looks atme.

“No limit?”

I prop my hands on my hips, still out of breath. “Your time starts now. Get my shit first.”

He lurches up, stool skidding over the floorboards behind him, and I slump against the counter, rubbing what I really hope is not a heart attack.

* * *

The leggings are ‘wet look’ and the gray crop top has a flapper fringe, but at least I’m not in a wedding dress anymore. Add some white space-suit sneakers and one of Kyle’s coworker’s abandoned zip up hoodies, and I’m set. Starting my new life in… well,someone’sidea of style.

I keep off the main streets, ducking through side roads and alleys. By now, there will be two families hunting me. The Palladinos and my own. I’m not sure who I’d rather catch me.

Neither. Definitely neither.

The credit card is long gone, too easily traced and therefore abandoned in a trash can in an alley, and now a wad of cash weighs down my hoodie pocket. I keep one hand pressed against the fabric, holding it tight to my hip.

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