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Finding out she was getting married was like being hit by buckshot, the pellets tearing multiple tracks through my muscles and flesh. Waiting was agony, but it had to be done. Holding off until the wedding was the best way for us to get to Effie and hit the governor at the same time.
I’ve been posted on a bench in the park across from the governor’s city residence for the better part of an hour. The Campbells own a large estate elsewhere, but the governor keeps this luxury townhouse in June Harbor for intown business. I stand up when I see the first black armored vehicle arrive.
More SUVs with government plates start lining up around the block. A deep sense of satisfaction takes shape in my gut, the kind you can only get when a plan comes together perfectly. While Effie is somewhere getting ready to marry his son, her plan to take down the governor is in full swing. Despite the fact that the thought of her preparing for the wedding feels like a hundred arrows to the chest, I am incredibly proud of what she started withLes Arnaqueuses.
The men in tactical gear lining up outside the townhouse will soon break down the door to find rare, stolen masterpieces from our cache that we planted early this morning.
The crew meticulously planned every detail to ensure that there will be no way he can wiggle out of the charges or get them brushed under the rug. They leaked small details about a potential raid of long-lost art in press circles and circulated information through sources in the police to get the FBI looking at the governor.
It only takes a few more minutes before I start seeing the satellites of news vans arrive around the block. Eagerness bites at me and I wish I could stay longer, but I have a wedding to crash and a wife to take home. I would have loved to see the FBI march out the lost masterpieces to a hoard of news cameras. Every second of the bust will be publicized, the people will demand accountability and scream corruption.
But as much as I want to see Governor Campbell’s demise unfold before my very eyes, nothing compares to my desire to have Effie back in my arms.
I leave the park and hop on my motorcycle to race back to Cash’s place.
“How did it go?” Hadis asks me as I take off my helmet in the underground garage.
“SWAT and news are flooding the street. Everything went according to plan.” She smiles, satisfied, and I turn my attention to my brothers who are loading our soldiers into SUVs. Roan is barking instructions, divvying up the men appropriately, while Lochlan straps more magazines of ammo to his belt.
I wait to walk up to Cash until he is done having a goodbye kiss with Harlow, like he’s going to fucking war. “Remember to go straight for the priest. It will be our best point of leverage. Luciano will sacrifice just about anyone else in that church.” The Mafia’s hypocrisy when it comes to religion always amused me. They will treat clergy like living saints then turn around and make a living off sin.
“I know she’s your girl, but I swear to God, Finneas, if you remind me one more time about the priest I’m going to blow your fucking brains out.”
I roll my eyes. “Then don’t fucking forget.”
I’m last to roll up to the church. A decoy call has already been dispatched to the governor’s security posted in the front of the church, so there’s no one to stop me from walking straight up the steps and inside. Now, I’m in the foyer and the object of all my thoughts, desire, my will to fucking live is behind those doors about to marry a stranger. I spark like a livewire as soon as I hear the first screams, my signal to move.
I use both hands to swing the sanctuary doors wide and step into the aisle. My brothers have the governor’s son and the priest at gun or knifepoint. Effie looks heart-wrenchingly beautiful in white, eyes round and full of surprise.Didn’t she know I was coming for her?
“Did we already get to the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’part? Because I object on account that EuphemiaFoxis already married. To me.”I stride down the aisle at a cool pace, plucking my leather gloves off and tossing them into the pews with smug indifference to the people sitting there. At Cash’s orders, everyone in the pews is on kneelers and placing their hands on top of their heads.
I drink her in with every step I take toward the altar. Her chestnut hair swept up and off her neck. Angelic body covered in satin and lace that I can’t wait to rip off. Amber eyes igniting with deviant flames.
I reach the bottom of the steps of the altar and extend my hand. She bites her lip, holding back a shocked smile. “You came…” she stutters and places her hand in mine, and for the first time in days, there’s solid ground under my feet.
She hikes her dress off the ground and looks at me with a shy grin. She looks ready to run, but instead I swoop her up and carry her down the aisle and straight out the door. I never got to walk out of the church with my wife the first time, and even if this isn’t quite the same, there’s an unrivaled satisfaction, holding her in my arms.
There’s a limo parked in front of the church, streamers and cans tied to the back,just marriedpainted on the windows. Alfie is tugging the driver out of the front. “You wanna die for this car? You know how many people have probably had sex in this thing? Gross. You should be thanking us for taking it off your hands. Now, Jesus Christ, get out of the fucking car before I shoot ya!”
Alfie sees us running down the steps and shrugs. “Ope, time's up.” He shoots the driver in the knee and then shoves his crippled frame out of the car. I open the passenger door, and Effie hops in. I slide in behind her and bark at Alfie to raise the partition.
We pull away, cans jingling, just as rows of police cars, sirens blaring turn down the street behind us. The blue and red of their lights is so bright, it breaks through the tinted limo windows and dances across Effie’s scared features. “Your brothers,” she gasps.
“They’re not coming for them.” I lean back in the deep seat, unable to take my eyes off her.
“Then who?”
“This morning, the FBI found certain Van Gogh and Renoir paintings at the home of one Thomas Campbell,” I wrap my hand around her wrist, my fingers brushing against her hammering pulse.
“You found the phone.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners in a soft smile.
“I did, and I lov—” My words are swallowed whole when Alfie slams on the brakes and we fly forward in the back of the limo, my arms leaping out to catch her and pull her back to me.
“Oy, back to the nursing home if you don’t know how to use a crosswalk!” he hollers.
She looks up at me, cradled in my arms, with heavy eyes. “When I told my father, I didn’t know—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I cut her off.
