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Outtake #1
I’M STANDING JUST outside of Javier’s hospital room with a man I’m all too familiar with.
I caught him here, wandering down the halls and stopping just outside this room where I have just enough space between the door’s opening to witness what’s happening inside.
My little cousin is incredible, and I smile.
“She’s always done things her way,” I say, and the man tries to answer but I push the barrel of the gun deeper against his neck. “You should be proud of the woman she is, Uncle.”
“Let me go.”
“To your death, sure.” The wedding officiant begins to speak, and I listen, taking in the goofy smiles on their faces and the way her eyes light up with laughter when he pokes her side. And while I’ll never admit this to her, hiring—arranging that first meeting with Javier has been my wisest decision to date.
He’s good to her. Has taken away the sadness that lingered in her eyes for so long after Lane and her parents betrayal.
“You need to stop this. That man—”
“Is your future son-in-law, although you’ll never meet him.”
The man dressed as a priest begins to read from his bible about love. He explains that the emotion is given freely and is honest—it’s not jealous and does not boast nor does it strike down or hurt the other person. He talks about kindness and hope. Of unity and family.
A tear falls from Mariah’s eye and she catches it before Javier notices. His eyes are on the officiant while my cousin shows a moment of weakness, of missing her family, but when he looks over and sees her frown, his concern erases all traces of hurt.
He mouths, are you okay?
And she replies, always with you.
“The rings?” the man asks, and both have sheepish grins. “You don’t have any?”
“This was a last-minute thing, and she proposed.” Javi shrugs, his grin cocky. “Ms. Mariah here stole my thunder, once again.”
“I did not. You’re just slow.”
“You two will be just fine.” He produces something from his pocket that looks like small rubber bands and places one in each hand. “Now, repeat after me and use these as place-holders. I’m sure you’ll have your real sets before the week is over.”
“Guilty.” Javier looks at Mariah with a soft expression. One you don’t see in men who hold no qualms in ending a life. Who’s itching for revenge. “I brought my parents set home with me. I’d like to use those for now.”
“I’d be honored, babe.”
“You see that, asshole?” I hiss into my uncle's ear, my finger pulling the trigger but no bullet dislodges. The clip inside has three at the most, and he got lucky this time. “That’s love. That’s the look she’ll wear on her face for the rest of her life.”
“He’s not worthy.”
“And these are your last few minutes on this earth,” I remind him. “I’m considering this a wedding gift to the happy couple after all the trouble you’ve caused with your deceased whore.”
“What?” The gun is pressed so tight to his jugular that it comes out a low garble. “What did you do to Mildred? Where is she?”
“Dead.” Javi looks over and I catch his minute nod of approval. The evil in his eyes, a quick flash that’s gone before Mariah notices the exchange. “The same your friend—the supplier of the black roses—will encounter. Mariah killed Mildred. Javier will end Grant.”
“No. No, she can’t be—”
“By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Their lips meet, and I hit my uncle across the forehead with the butt of my Desert Eagle, creating a nasty gash right across the bridge of his nose. And as they kiss, I drag him back toward the stairwell where Carmelo stands guard. He sees the unconscious man and jumps into action, carrying his weight like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.
“Where to?”
“My home. I’m in the mood to play.”
