Spin (The Indigo Lounge Series) (14 page)

Three days before he was supposed to be released, an inter-gang fight broke out in Rikers. Twenty inmates and five guards were killed in the altercation that resulted in a two-day standoff with the NYPD’s Hostage Rescue Team.

When the dust cleared, Zach was gone.

The Day We Meld

Zach

I
’m not sure how I’m standing here, facing an altar and a priest, minutes away from saying the vows that will bind me forever to the love of my life, the owner of my soul.

All I know is that the shit storm is over, for now, and I’m here.

The bruises covering my back and shoulders ache like a motherfucker, but I’ll take the agony all over again, and ten times more, if destiny guarantees I’ll be right where I am in this moment.

I hear my mom sniveling behind me as she clings to her latest man for support. You’d think she’s the one with the three cracked ribs and a body covered in bruises.

Sure, I scared the shit out of her when I turned up at her hotel suite at the Indigo Maui, looking like a fresh corpse from an MMA fight, but there was no way I was going to miss marrying Bethany Green.

No fucking way in hell.

Bethany is my light. My world. I thank whatever almighty being is out there looking down on me for sending her my way. Without her, I’d be dead. I know this for a fact because I sure as shit came close enough in the past three months. I don’t shy away from the fact that everything I am, every breath I take, is because of her.

She holds my life in her hands. She holds my very being together. Pure and simple.

I almost killed for her. I’ve gone to jail for her. I’d do again in a heartbeat.

She is mine.

My Peaches.

My life.

My reason for existing.

Today, at last, I’ll put a ring on her finger. I’ll brand her heart with my name. I’ll shackle her soul to mine.

Today, Bethany will be my wife.

Organ music swells in the ballroom my fiancée decorated without knowing whether I would turn up. Each petal and string of lace that graces the pews and walls, each indigo candle that illuminates tiered chandeliers above my head, was placed there by my Bethany, without her knowing whether I was alive or dead.

The pain I’ve put her through, and the huge, terrible love I feel for her makes my heart pound so hard, I feel faint.

The music stops suddenly. I turn, and pain shoots through my body.

Mason, one of three best men drafted by Bethany for our wedding—on the off-chance that I made it here today—catches my wince, and lifts an eyebrow.

I send him a look that spells out exactly what I think of his concern—
You think I’m leaving here without a ring on my finger that binds me to the woman I love? Go kick rocks, asshole.

His smirk tells me he’s received the message loud and clear.

The familiar strains of
Yo Yo Ma’s Cello Suites by Bach
begins to play
,
and I’m thrown back to the day I saw Bethany dance for the first time in Morocco. My heart refuses to tell me the exact moment I fell in love with her—because it believes it’s always belonged to her—but I have the feeling I took that final, blessedly doomed step into love that day.

That she’s chosen this song for our wedding day, fucking overwhelms me to the point where tears storm my eyes. I grit my teeth to pull myself together.

Tears are for pussies like my mother, who likes to drown in over-the-top emotion.

Tears are for saps who’re lucky enough to find a deep well of unconditional love from a woman who gives and keeps on giving.

Fuck me
.

I shudder and blink hard, and the prickling stops. Which is just as well, because a little girl I don’t know and barely care about, complete with cute curls and white ribbons in her hair, skips down the aisle throwing fistfuls of rose petals with gleeful abandon.

She’s adorable, I’m sure.

But I only have eyes for one person.

When she fills the decorated arch, I exhale in a long, ragged rush. Three months of fucked up hell, wrong decisions and nights spent in harrowing loneliness, have brought me to this.

She’s stunning beyond comprehension, a heavenly vision above all visions. Her hair is threaded with indigo lace, the same shade as her bridesmaids’ dresses. I’m thankful that she’s not wearing a veil, because I can see her eyes.

I see the moment she finds me, and I watch her stumble. Her father catches her, but her blue eyes, wide and beautiful, and swimming with tears, stay with me. They anchor me, while the world is stripped away. I’m bare, and useless, except for one purpose.

My purpose is to love her. My Bethany.

I take one step down from the altar.

“Fuck, man, you’re supposed to wait,” Gabriel Antonelli, my other best man, growls from my left. “You ruin this for her, and you’ll never hear the end of it.”

I take another step.

Todd, my soon-to-be father-in-law, sends me a look of half-exasperation, half-resignation.

Behind me, the Tongan priest clears his throat.

My gaze consumes my love from head to toe. Her gorgeous body, wrapped in diamond-studded cream silk, glows with vitality.

But I notice she’s lost weight. The reasons for that threaten to destroy me. Murderous rage mounts beneath my skin at the thought of what we’ve been through.

I don’t regret the path I took or the punishment I delivered when Bethany was attacked. But I do regret that my actions took me from her. That my absence has caused her pain, flays me. With a heavy heart, I push it back. I choose, instead, to bask in the love and hope shining in her eyes. A love I once dared to think I deserved, but I know now I could live a million years and not deserve an ounce of it. A love I intend to drown in, nevertheless. Because I’m fucking selfish that way.

I don’t deserve Bethany.

But she’s mine.

Mine to adore.

Mine to fuck.

Mine to worship.

I take the last few steps down the aisle. I reach her, and slide my fingers through hers. She grips me tight in return, and my soul sighs.

“Peaches.”

Bethany

“Hey, Zach,” I croak, unable to believe he’s here. Truly, wonderfully here. In front of me. And not an apparition sent to sooth my tortured, wasteland of an existence. “You’re here.”

He gives one solemn, heartbreaking nod. “I’m here, baby.”

The deep affirmation of his words sends a shudder through me. My whole body judders, as if finally, blissfully letting go of the shackles of frantic self-preservation.

I want to touch his lean, beautiful face. Trace with my fingers his hollow cheekbones, his sensual mouth, that horrific bruise on his jaw, while uttering a prayer and offering a sacrifice for him to be real.

His fingers tighten harder around mine, infusing me with the reassurance I crave. “And I’m never leaving again. Ever.”

My throat clogs with a million more unshed tears. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

His eyes close for a split second, and his chest moves. “Please do. God, please hold me to it.”

Several throats clear. My father pointedly holds out his arm, and Zach reluctantly releases me.

He stays on the other side of me, his hand clutching mine, and we step onto the altar together.

“Are we ready?” the heavyset priest with world-weary eyes glances at us.

Zach studies me. “Are you ready to be mine?”

My heart bursts with what I feel for this man. “I’ve been yours from the moment you frisked me.”

My words move through him. Grey eyes, already gone dark, turn gunmetal, and he swallows hard before he nods at the priest. “And I’ve been yours from the moment you let me. We’re ready.”

A lifetime ago, we toyed with vows, whether we wanted to write our own or go traditional. I don’t remember what we settled on, because so much has happened since that foolishly idyllic, ephemeral day.

So much has happened to bring us here, that I want to rush through it, while freezing each moment in clay.

I don’t remember...so I open my heart. “Zachary, from the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to see no other, touch no other, love no other. I will stand by your side, love you through the rough tides, and be your home. For always.”

“Bethany, you are the pulse that reminds my heart to beat, the sky that allows my sun to shine. I live for you. I am useless without you. My love. My Peaches. I am yours.”

The Afterburn

Bethany

W
e sway under the setting Hawaiian sun, not letting each other go for fast music or slow. The speeches and toasts have been made, the Chinese lanterns set free. Zach’s helicopter pilot is behind the controls of the chopper sitting on the hotel roof, ready to take us to our private island twenty minutes away.

Zach grips my hand, and his platinum and black opal wedding ring glints in the sun. I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. When I lift my head, the back of his hand is wet with my tears.

He makes a rough sound at the back of his throat. “Don’t cry, baby. Please.” He trembles as he gathers me closer to his chest.

I listen to his heartbeat for a moment, strong and steady, and it calms me. “I can’t help it. These past three months, I was forced to think about what it would be like to live without you. Zach...I wouldn’t have made it.” Talons of residual fear grip me, and I’m thrust back into that churning black vortex, wishing for death.

He places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I know. Each day has been agony for me. But I’m back now. Let’s begin our life today, Peaches. Right here, right now. Let’s promise to never spend a night away from each other.”

My heart swells and I nod. “I promise. For as long as we live, you’ll be the first and last thing I see every morning and night. I love you, Zach.”

He makes the same promise, then kisses me, long and deep, until we can’t breathe.

A throat clears behind us, and we turn to see Keely. “Hate to interrupt the Hallmark moment, but it’s time to hit the road, guys.” Her voice is brusque, but her eyes are misty with tears.

I smile and leave the heaven of Zach’s arms to hug my best friend. “I love you, Keel. I thank God every day for you.”

She hugs me tighter. “Me too, B. Me too.”

We’re crying when we part, and Mason, who’s hovering protectively close, tugs her into his arms.

I look at Zach, and he’s smiling, his devastatingly handsome face a little gaunt, but no less drop-dead arresting. “Shall we, Mrs. Savage?”

“Yes, please, Mr. Savage.”

We say our goodbyes and head into the hotel. In the elevator heading up to the roof where the chopper waits, I stare at my husband, my heart thundering at finally being truly alone with him. He returns my look, and I see the shadows and exhaustion etched into his face.

I quickly make up my mind. “Zach?”

“Yes, Peaches?”

“I want to go home.”

“That’s where we’re going.”

“No, I mean home, back to San Francisco.”

Relief washes over his face, and I know I’ve done the right thing. Of all our numerous properties scattered across the globe, our home in San Francisco is the place where I’ve seen Zach most at peace.

He looks at me with gratitude blazing in his beautiful grey eyes. “Home is wherever you are, Peaches, but yes, I’d very much like to return to San Francisco too.”

He takes out his phone, and even before we take off from the rooftop, the new travel arrangements have been made. I lie my head on his shoulder, grateful beyond words for the solid reassurance of Zach next to me.

His exhaustion is more pronounced by the time we board our plane. We both refuse champagne and caviar. After take off, I take his hand and lead him to the master suite at the back of the private jet.

Ferocious hunger burns through his eyes as he shrugs off his jacket. When his gaze rakes over me, I feel the naked flame of his adoring lust and encompassing possession, and his hand trembles as he tugs off his cream silk tie and unbuttons the first stud on his wedding tuxedo.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, Bethany, but knowing you’re my wife, that you truly belong to me...” he shakes his head. “I hope you’re ready, because I intend to fuck you until my ownership of you is imprinted on you inside and out. Every fucking guy who sees you from now on will see my mark on you. I’m going to stain you with my love, and own you with my cock.”

I shudder hard, and that arrogant smile that cut me off at the knees the moment we met, flattens me again. I sway toward him. “Yes, Zach. I’m yours, completely.”

He catches me to him and my arms slide around him. We kiss like the very air exists in the meeting of our mouths. His cock is rock hard against my stomach, and I writhe against him with an aching need built from endless tormented nights without him.

“God, baby,” he groans, his tongue sliding hot and hard against mine. “I need you. So fucking much. Tell me that beautiful cunt of yours is wet for me?” he pleads.

“It is, Zach. So, so wet,” I whimper.

His hand slides up my ass and he searches frantically for the zipper of my wedding dress. “Shit, I love your dress, but it needs to come off, right fucking now!”

I take a deep breath and reluctantly pull back. “Zach, wait.”

When I take another step back, he grasps my wrist. “What the fuck are you doing, Peaches?”

I smile inwardly. My domineering Zach is back, and my happiness is
almost
complete. “I want you to fuck me, my darling. So much I can’t bear it. But you’re exhausted—”

“Hell,
the fuck
, no,” he growls. “Don’t even think about it, Bethany.” He yanks me close, and I hear his hiss of pain when I slam into him.

“Zach, Philip told me what happened to you in prison three days ago.” My voice trembles with the recollection of what Zach’s personal assistant had recounted. “You were knocked unconscious and ended up in the infirmary, for fuck’s sake.”

Anger twists his face. “And my fucking lawyers didn’t bother to let you know where I was until this morning. I’m so sorry I put you through that, baby.” His features gentle for a moment, before they harden again. “Believe me, I intend for a few heads to roll once we get back.”