Page 28 of Brutal Devil

“Good,” he allows grudgingly. “Don’t tell Priest I said that.”

Is that some brotherly rivalry I detect? This could work in my favor. I can use it to my advantage.

“Why should he care?” I ask.

“Because you’re his.”

I bite my lip to keep from denying it. The urge is strong. So strong.

“Are you seriously telling me that the ceremony is taking place today?” I add, stalling. “Don’t the bride and groom have to apply for a marriage license in this state?”

“Maybe.”

His voice suggests he doesn’t care.

“I’m pretty sure they do,” I venture, hope gaining steam. “And since I never applied for a license, there can’t be one, and since there isn’t a license, we can’t get married today.”

I realize I’m stroking my hand over the dress, and I straighten. That shit’s made of poison. I can’t wear the dress. I can’t get married. Panic mode has yet to leave the building. It’s like I’m in shock and mindlessly doing stupid things.

“Wrong.” The door gets kicked open.

Saint is standing there, gun in his hand, barrel trained on me. “Look, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you pushed me too far. Get into the fucking dress, or I’m going to have to put it on you. And neither of us is going to want to explain to Priest how I stripped you out of your pajamas and helped you into your panties and bra. I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I don’t want to die today.”

I lick my lips, panic settling in. The good-natured-mobster act is gone. The feral maniac staring at me right now will shoot me if I don’t do as he says. I can read it in his stance, in the way his trigger finger is resting, in his cold and dead eyes.

But I can’t get married.

“Do you?” he demands, nodding toward the dress on the bed.

I swallow. “What?”

“Want to die today?”

I shake my head nervously. “No.”

“Do you want your father to die today?”

“No.” Unconsciously, I lift a hand to the tender part of my jaw and cheek where he hit me the day before.

“Then get dressed. No more stalling. No more questions. Got it?”

I hold his stare, feeling ice settle into my veins. “Got it.”

How the hell am I going to get out of this mess?

Chapter 9

PRIEST

I pace in the sacristy, blowing out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This is a rarity. First, that I’m in a church at all. And second, that I’m alone. On any given day, I’m surrounded by people. My brothers. My men.ZiaMaria. Customers at our private clubs. Every day is a sea of faces, of obligations, of problems.

But this day isn’t quite like all the rest.

Becausefuck, this is my wedding day.

It feels heavier than I thought it would, the realization settling into my bones. Not unlike the day my old man died—the knowledge that from this moment forward, life will be forever changed.

A double knock at the closed door tells me Rocco is here.