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The cold shower had worked, a little. Enough for me to go out in public without frightening children or old ladies with the size of my wood. I snuck through the suite, nodding to Law, who was standing guard in the hallway. Yeah, the club has it’s very own lawyer. He was another guy who served multiple clubs and was welcome in just about any of them, just like Doc and Preacher.
Honestly, we probably kept Law the busiest, considering how fast and loose most of us lived, especially on the road. Though Doc spent a whole hell of a lot of time sewing us up and Preacher was needed for weddings, births, and funerals. The other two were needed for everything in between.
I desperately needed some air. I was so grateful for my brothers at that moment. I wouldn’t have been able to leave my woman alone without them patrolling the hallways. After all, her family knew exactly where we were. There was a chance they might try and take her before the wedding. Renege on the deal.
Deep down, though, I trusted the fuckers. I could not have told you why, but there it was. The Aslanov brothers appeared to be honorable. Ruthless and brutal, but loyal and honest to a fault.
So, I took the stairs down, nodding to a couple more of Cain’s guys that were monitoring the hallways and grounds of the hotel at all time. I figured I could see the Untouchables who were here for the wedding. Thank them properly for getting us here alive.
Get the temperature on what was going on with her family and the rest of the Russian mob.
Find out who the hell had been following us and how they had spotted us.
I found the guys on the back deck, overlooking the ocean. It was dark, but you could hear the ocean. You could also hear loud Russian voices, crisply demanding another bottle of vodka. A harried looking waiter rushed past me.
He looked scared.
I didn’t blame him.
I knew that seeing the three hulking brothers should not have reassured me. They had men here, watching and waiting, just as I did. I watched their hands to make sure they didn’t text the order to snatch my bride-to-be before approaching.
“If it isn’t the lucky groom,” boomed Alexei, sounding far too jovial. The other brothers smashed their glasses together and they all drank whatever wasn’t spilled, raising their glasses to me before pounding them on a high bar table.
Preacher cocked an eyebrow at me and winked before my crew did the same. Only judging from the bottle, they were drinking tequila.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” I demanded.
“We are drinking your friends under the table,” came the arrogant Russian tinged reply. I glared at Anton, then gave my ‘friends’ the stink eye for good measure.
“You are matching them? This is a goddamn drinking competition?”
“Drink for drink,” Trace said with a grin. Cain raised his hands, muttering something about being the judge. I pointed a finger at Preacher, Hunter, Mason, and Connor, who must have just arrived.
“Drinkydoodles,” Preacher said, sounding a bit giddy. He didn’t drink much at home. I guess he was off the leash tonight. I wondered what Cynthia would have to say about the slur I heard in the old man’s voice, I thought uncharitably.
“Did everyone forget I have a wedding tomorrow? A wedding you have to officiate?”
“I’ll be fine,” Preacher said, gesturing grandly as if he would say something more. He looked vaguely confused and trailed off.
“For fuck’s sake, you are out of practice, you old rue. And you,” I said, giving Connor a pointed look. “Wouldn’t the office frown on fraternizing with known criminals?”
“Which ones?”
He lifted a newly filled glass to me and smiled. We all knew that our club used to be nearly as criminal as the damned Russians. Everyone hastened to lift their own glasses. They really were going drink for drink. With Russians. It was insane.
“Well, this is not at all reassuring. I am going to bed.”
“Do not touch her!” Andrei shouted cheerfully as I stalked away.
“Not until tomorrow,” Alexei added.
“Fuck you both,” I threw over my shoulder.
“Sure, just don’t fuck our cousin if you want to keep your balls!”
Everyone laughed. Even my so called friends. The traitors.
I took the stairs back to our suite. Law was still there, picking his nails with a very sharp looking hunting knife. This time I didn’t say a word. I was just glad his ass was sober.
I hoped he was, anyway.
My bride-to-be was peacefully sleeping, having no idea of the anarchy that was happening not too far below the open window. I closed it, wincing at the faint sound of laughter. I watched her for a while, eventually forcing myself to leave her alone, if only for a few hours. I rolled myself into a blanket on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
