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I sit in the prison chaplain with the warden as my witness and Jynxson as my best man. The priest rocks back and forth on his feet, looking like he’s suffering the first stage of alcohol withdrawal.
Bowing my head, I drum my fingers on the pew. I shouldn’t feel so damned nervous. Everything’s going to plan… Mostly.
I spoke to Amethyst this morning. The Armagnac and cake she ordered arrived yesterday. She already has the little black outfit I want her to wear, but is still waiting for Mom’s locket I sent her last week. According to her it will probably arrive latertoday in the mail, but I’m not so sure. She never received that first dildo, which was no big deal, but that locket is the only thing I have of Mom.
The door at the back opens, and my heart skips several beats. I turn around, expecting to see a five-foot-five woman in a black bodice, but Officer McMurphy slithers inside with a sneer.
Jynxson glances over his shoulder and groans. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
My jaw clenches. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of being acknowledged, even though she wasn’t invited.
Minutes pass, and I glance up at the clock. Amethyst is twenty-five minutes late. The priest shifts on his feet, rubs the back of his neck, and rolls his shoulders, acting like he’s the one who needs to fret about being jilted.
Jynxson opens and closes the ring box, the sound grating on my nerves.
“Stop,” I hiss.
He stiffens.
They’re probably giving Amethyst shit through the security check. Even though the warden gave her permission to bring a wedding cake and alcohol, I doubt that the idiots at the gate will let her through with so much contraband.
I glance across the pew at the warden, who sits with his legs stretched and his arms folded over his chest. Is this why he’s here? So no one can reach his office when they call him to confirm the concessions he made for Amethyst?
My jaw tightens. If this is some kind of setup to keep us apart, then I’m killing everyone, starting with him.
At half-past, McMurphy clears her throat. “Another couple needs the chaplain.”
My shoulders tense. “She’s coming. They can wait.”
The warden rises. “Be reasonable, Greaves. We have three other prisoners waiting to be married. After that, the priest needs to be at the execution chamber to administer sacraments.”
“I don’t want any last rites,” I snarl.
When the door opens again, I stand, hoping to see Amethyst, but McMurphy lets in a prisoner from the general population andhis pregnant bride-to-be. They’re flanked by four officers to add to the quartet already in the chaplain.
I glance around the wood-paneled room, my heart pounding. “Where’s Amethyst Crowley?”
“Looks like you’ve been stood up,” McMurphy says with a shrug, her eyes glimmering.
“Looks like you bastards held her up,” I snarl.
Jynxson stuffs the ring box in his pocket and places a hand on my arm. “Calm down, Greaves. Nobody?—”
My fist lands on his jaw, making him stumble backward and hit the wall. Two other officers rush in from either side, and the four McMurphy let in charge down the aisle.
I shove past the priest and grab the warden’s throat, only for a pair of guards to jerk me back. Jynxson appears in front of me and punches me in the eye with a left, then a right, making my vision fill with stars.
“Not the face!” the warden roars.
Using the men grabbing my arms as leverage, I jump up and kick Jynxson square in the chest with both feet. He falls to the ground with a satisfying thud.
I roll forward, throwing one guard over my shoulder and elbowing the other in the ribs. His pained roar is a symphony to my black heart. I glance around for the warden, who darts out through the exit. McMurphy stands on a pew, recording the fight on her phone.
The other four officers rush forward to grab my arms, but adrenaline pushes me forward. With a primal roar, I deliver a roundhouse kick to the one in front. He falls on his colleague like a domino.
I launch into berserker mode, fighting off a small army of assholes. Then a sharp jolt of electricity courses through my system, bringing with it a paralyzing pain. As my body seizes, I’m struck with another barrage of shocks. Agony takes control of my muscles, and I convulse, trying to stay upright against the onslaught.
“What did you expect, Greaves?” McMurphy yells over my screams. “Women find men like you disgusting.”
