Hale Maree (25 page)

Oscar and I turn together, my eyes running
over the rows of heads, to find the one that is out of place. It’s
not hard to find her at all, standing like the blond Popsicle stick
she is, in the middle of the crowd of guests.

“
Amy,” Oscar growls. She’s
dragged her scandal all the way here, and now she’s going to make
sure to wave it around in broad daylight.

“
Go home, Amy, you’re not
welcome here,” Oscar says.

“
That’s a shame, Oscar,
because I think everyone would like to know about us.” Her smile
spreads, like marshmallows on a radiator.

“
What the hell?” My father
rises from his seat, swinging around to face her.

“
There is no ‘us’,” Oscar
growls again, ignoring the murmurs that pop up among the rows of
guests.

“
Young lady,” Mr. Maree
stands from his seat to face Amy too. I’m sure Oscar has told him
who she is. That’s probably why Mr. Maree looks so pale. “You are
not welcome to stay, if you intend to ruin my son’s
wedding.”

“
I’m here because he killed
a man, and tried to cover it up,” Amy blurts.

“
Where’s security?” my
father shouts. “This girl is nuts!”

“
Rick Tatum!” Amy shrieks.
“Oscar killed him!”

People’s heads are whipping back and forth,
trying to catch all the reactions.

“
Who the hell is Rick
Tatum?” Oscar says. “I don’t even know the person you’re talking
about!”

Technically, Oscar’s telling the truth, but
the whispers still hike up and somebody says, “Isn’t that the guy
that was killed at Modo’s Bar?”

I assume that the man who stands up next is
Modo. He’s a burly guy with long hair, tied back in a ponytail for
the occasion. He’s wearing a nice suit, and a scowl aimed at Amy,
as he says, “The guy that died outside my bar died of natural
causes. He had a seizure and clonked his head. The cops released
the autopsy report this morning. So, what are you talking about,
little girl?”

“
He didn’t hit his head! He
came after Oscar! Oscar did it!” Amy shrieks, but it’s obvious that
she’s losing ground. Her eyes dart around, and people point at her,
whispering things about sanity.

“
Young lady,” Mr. Maree says
over the murmuring, “are you accusing my son of someone’s
accidental death? I don’t take kindly to that.”

“
He came after Oscar!” Amy
shouts.

Someone in the crowd calls out, “How do you
know that, Amy?” The voice is familiar. I scan through the
unfamiliar faces and find the slightly familiar one. Sophia.

She’s standing in the back, in a pristine,
pink dress. And she repeats, like a brick wall, “How do you know
that he was after Oscar, Amy?”

Amy spots Sophia, and begins sliding past
people, toward the end of the aisle.

“
How do you know, unless you
sent the guy, Amy?” Sophia calls. The whispers jump up, and I catch
bits and pieces of insinuations and accusations pointed in Amy’s
direction, instead of at Oscar, or his father. The words
set up
drift through the
crowd,
and the acknowledgement bubbles up
over and over again, that the Marees are good men, solid men, not
men that would do this sort of thing. The final conclusion seems to
be that this poor young woman must be a jilted lover, who has come
to air her grievance over not being in the bride’s
dress.

Amy is shamed, and practically discounted,
before she even scoots out to the end of the aisle. She walks
quickly back toward the French doors of the main house, but Mr.
Maree raises his hand to one of the Security guards, and the guard
murmurs into his headpiece. Two more guards materialize, on either
side of Amy, and escort her out. Sophia takes a seat, demurely, in
the back, blowing a kiss off her hand to Oscar, and then another,
with a friendly wink, to me.

The Pastor leans down and says, “Are you
ready to resume?”

But Oscar lifts two fingers to the Pastor,
and the Holy Man nods and steps back, giving us as much privacy as
can be had, while standing in front of a hundred expectant faces.
Oscar bends, so his lips are near my ear.

“
You don’t have to marry
me.” he says. His voice cracks. “Tatum died of a seizure, not the
impact of the fall. I found out this morning. There’s nothing to
hide now. My father would deny the accident, but there is no
evidence against him anyway. I should have told you, but I didn’t,
because I was afraid I’d lose you, Hale. But this isn’t fair to you
either. I’ll see to it that your father is helped, and that you
have enough to go to a good college. You’re free to go. I won’t
hold you to a marriage you don’t want.”

“
You won’t?” I
say.

“
No.” His voice cracks
again, as he shakes his head and looks away. I look out over the
hundred guests, and then I glance over my shoulder at Sher, who
smiles a sad smile, like she’ll love me no matter what I do. I turn
back to Oscar, but his eyes are cast down.

I lean closer to him and whisper, “But what
if I said I want to marry you? What if I said I want to marry you
because I love the man that you are? What if I said I love you,
Oscar?”

He finally looks back up, meeting my
gaze.

“
Then I’d come running,” he
says.

“
Then let me,” I say.
“Because I love you, Oscar. I want to marry you, and be your wife,
and argue about children. I want everything about you. I
do.”

I drop my purple-and-yellow bouquet, and
forget all about what we’re supposed to do and say next. Instead,
in front of God and our hundred witnesses, I reach for my husband,
and he encircles me in his arms, kissing me, in a way that means
absolutely everything.

SPECIAL THANKS

Thank you, God.

Love and thanks to Pook, who takes on the
world for me, with me. You’re always my hero.

Thanks to Mom, who insisted on helping to
edit HALE. I love you dearly although we can never look each other
in the eyes again.

Thanks to Ma and Pa and Dad, for the
unwavering belief and the unspoken agreement at family
get-togethers that none of us have ever written or read this
book.

Huge thanks to PepsiCoke (J Nunez); 4AM (M
Anderson); Candace; Novels on the Run’s Michelle; my Debbie
Ulbrich; Michelle Leighton; Annie (all rosies) (AM Hargrove);
SupaGurl Heather; Flyleaf’s Heather R.; M. Smith (my fave Book Nerd
in America); Love of Book’s Christy; Supernatural Snark’s Jenny;
Tess; Globug & HootieGirl; H. Rosdol; my absolute fave Tsk Tsk
girls Kathryn & Shelley (I’ll bring David back soonish!
Maybe!); Kat Ellis; Shelly Crane; Mark “McThrashbone” Morgan;
Fighting Dreamer Cayce; Rainy Day Heidi; Captivated Reading
Christy; Jen Kromer; Turning Pages Angela; EJ Wesley; Reading Angel
Angela; Book Addict Tee; Clare Davidson; Lita; Howie; Kristina;
Autumn; Rebecca E; M Fita; KSauce; J Betcher; Sue & Chris
Salah; Dani; Pam Heintz; L Zera; Starla Huchton who has a voice
like absolute buttah; Soda & Brend...and to all those I missed,
but am eternally grateful~ you know who you are.

And thank you to you, with your eyes on
these pages, for reading. I hope this story brings you joy.

Now, please enjoy an excerpt from A.M.
Hargrove’s latest book, Dark Waltz, a Praestani Novel, to be
released November 2012.

Dark Waltz, A Praestani Novel

by A.M. Hargrove

“
Going somewhere?” that
husky voice asked.

Crapitty crap!

She sucked in her breath and dropped her
annihilator, as his voice startled her. Before her brain could
comprehend what was happening, she felt her body swirling through a
vortex. She finally came to rest in another place.

Disoriented and dizzy, she tried to focus on
her surroundings, but everything seemed to tilt sideways. She
reached out her hand to stop herself from falling, but only
succeeded in grabbing a fistful of air. Not knowing which way was
up or down, she tried, unsuccessfully, to break her fall. Instead,
she felt her breath leave her body in a whoosh as she slammed into
the ground.

Fighting for oxygen, her diaphragm wouldn’t
cooperate with her brain’s commands. Worse yet, she felt a pair of
hands latch onto her waist, drag her to her feet and ram her back
into a wall. Her head hung down as she fought to draw in precious
oxygen, yet found she was still unable to do so. Then the asshole
had the nerve to jam his arm straight into her diaphragm and start
demanding things of her.

“
Who do you work
for?”

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like
a poor fish that had been hauled out of the water, desperate to be
thrown back in.

“
I’ll ask again, who do you
work for?” he bit out each word with precision.

Things began to turn grey and hazy as the
lack of air finally took its toll on her brain. She knew she was
going to pass out.

Double crapitty crap!

Her head lolled to the side and...blink,
lights out.

Jurek looked at her and cursed, “What the
fuck?”

He hadn’t realized she was so close to
losing it. He laid her out on the floor and looked at her for a
moment. She wasn’t beautiful in that traditional, cookie-cutter
sense, but there was something about her that enticed him. Her
chestnut mane for one, and Jurek had always been a sucker for women
with beautiful hair, but those hazel eyes of hers were something
else. Her full lips were kissably soft, he thought, as he ran his
thumb along her mouth. He finally placed his hand on her forehead
and in seconds, she came to, moaning.

Her eyes fluttered open and when the
recognition in them flickered, those hazel eyes shot sparks of
gold. Hovering before her was the dark haired man from the bar. She
wouldn’t have had to open her eyes to know it was him since every
cell in her body was on fire with his power.

Soft black hair hung close to his shoulders
and he wore it brushed back off his face. Liasare briefly wondered
if it would feel as soft as it looked. He had a bit of scruff on
his face; he obviously hadn’t bothered to shave in the last couple
of days. His lips were full and sensuous and definitely made for
kissing. In fact, Liasare could imagine running her tongue along
that lower lip of his, tugging on it and gently sucking it. What
made her nearly lose it were his eyes. They were extraordinary.
Lavender, rimmed in indigo with flecks of silver swirling within
their depths, Liasare had never seen anything so stunning in her
life.

Regaining her senses, Liasare flew to her
feet and threw a right uppercut that connected beneath Jurek’s jaw.
Had he been a lesser man, it would have laid him out. Then she spun
on her heel and began the motion for an intended groin kick, but
his quick reflexes caught her leg before it connected and he
flicked it off with his hand.

“
You flaming asshole. Who do
you think you are? You fucking knock the wind out of me and then
you do it again for shits and giggles? Who the hell do you think
you are?”

“
Watch your language and I’m
asking the questions here.”

“
Not anymore,” Liasare
hissed as she turned to head out of the building.

Before she could take another step, an arm
snaked out and grabbed her around the waist. He pulled her tightly
against his chest and whispered huskily into her ear, “I asked you
a question. I want to know who you’re working for and I don’t
intend to let you go until I get an answer.”

His voice washed over her with that
electrifying intense heat. She felt her skin erupt in a million
goose bumps as every hair on her body stood at attention.

Damn him, she thought. How can he have this
kind of power over me? Fuck!

“
You have no idea
Brownie.”

“
Brownie?

“
Mmm. Brownie. For that
glorious mane of hair you have.” His hand spanned across her
stomach and she felt a million butterflies suddenly erupt as he
hugged her tightly against him.

“
I’ll bet you taste better
than one too.” If she could have turned around she would have seen
the corners of his mouth turn up as he baited her.

End of preview

You can find A.M. Hargrove and more
information about Dark Waltz and her other books at her website

www.amhargrove.com

or

www.amhargrove.blogspot.com