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The creak of the wooden floors downstairs. The branch against my window. Even the sound of a car backfiring a mile away. Every little sound makes me tug the covers up tighter around myself.
Is it Spade coming back to take me?
Or is Doc here to yell at me again?
Or something else entirely meant to test me?
I roll onto my side and clutch a pillow to my chest. It’s been a long time since my anxiety has gotten the better of me, but right now I can barely breathe through the panic in my chest.
I should have fallen asleep hours ago. After all, I haven’t slept since the night before last. My body is exhausted, but my mind is wide awake, and that’s the problem.
Every moment of my life feels like it’s replaying on a loop.
The night Miles got Bree and me our first fake ID. The first time I let myself go. The first time I took the little white pills that made me numb. The night I saw Bryant after so many years. The first time we danced.
It all plays on a loop as I try to find the exact moment that found me in this position. The memories that used to make me smile, now have dread washing over my clammy skin. Regret eats away at me, the familiar feeling of panic clawing at my chest until I can barely drag in a breath.
I reach for my phone and sigh.
Three in the morning.
Only six hours until I become Mrs.…
I don’t even know his last name,the thought crashes into me. I’m about to marry a man I don’t know a thing about other than that he’s responsible for my aunt’s death.
The phone vibrates in my hand, and I almost drop it in surprise. Who the hell is messaging me at this time?
Bryant: My dad just told me about the wedding…
My fingers dance over the keys as I try to find the words to reply. We were never right for one another, and I knew that from the first moment we locked eyes, but he’s my friend. I don’t know how to talk to him about this any more than I did when I told Bree.
Isla: I thought I’d have more time to find a way around it.
Bryant: I’m sorry things worked out like this. I wish there was something I could do.
Isla: It is what it is. I guess I just have to learn to live with it.
Long minutes pass, so long that I begin to think he’s not going to reply at all, but then my phone lits up in my hand again.
Bryant: If you ever need anything, a friend, someone to talk to, an escape plan, I’m only ever a text away.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I press my eyes closed to warn off the tears that threaten to fall.
I have no idea what awaits me in my new life, but I know I’ll always have people in Boston that are in my corner, and that allows the tiniest bit of hope to take root in my heart.
CHAPTER NINE
DOC
Itug restlessly at the suit I bought an hour ago from a local tailor.
I hate wearing these things, especially because they never fit me well. Something the tailor bitched about to no end as he pawed through his inventory looking for one that would fit both my height and my brawn.
I’m much more comfortable in jeans and a Henley, but apparently that’s not appropriate attire for a wedding. Even one I want no part in.
It wasn’t hard pulling this together at the last minute, but then again, not much is when you work for the Saint James family. One call from any of the siblings and people are falling at their feet to make shit happen. Which is why I called Snow, the youngest of the siblings, to help.
After I fielded her hundred and one questions, she was straight on the phone, pulling everything we needed together like she’d done it a hundred times before.
