Page 43 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)
LAGUNA BEACH, CALIFORNIA
The Last Wedding
Miguel and Julia’s wedding day dawned bright and clear with beautiful deep blue skies and nary a cloud in sight.
Last night after their rehearsal dinner, Julia had gone home with Brielle and the rest of her bridesmaids, while the groomsmen bunked with Miguel.
He needed his buddies to keep him steady, to keep him from falling apart because he was a nervous wreck.
As Justice adjusted his bowtie for him and Luca helped him with his tux jacket, Miguel commented, “I don’t remember you guys being this nervous.” He held out his hands. “Look, I’m shaking like a frightened puppy.”
His friends glanced at each other and burst into loud guffaws.
“Who caught the chicken that absconded with my wedding ring?” Hutch recalled. “Not to mention the nerves and the tears that Jiena’s missing wedding dress caused.”
“What about the hours the women went missing in Italy?” Luca chimed in. “You don’t remember how nerve-wracking that was?”
“Oh, but absolutely nothing tops a vindictive ghost haunting your wedding venue,” Finnigan point out. “I have bragging rights. Unless there’s a vengeful spirit roaming the Spanish mission where you’re getting married. Then, I’d say we’re even.”
Horror crept through Miguel. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, then you’re going to have a perfect, noneventful wedding like Justice and Brielle’s,” Hutch assured him. “Right, guys?”
“Right,” they chorused.
Julia’s brothers stood on the fringe of their circle and stared at them as if they were space aliens.
Luca beckoned them to join the circle. “You’ll get used to us eventually. Since you’re marrying into our family.”
“Uh, sure,” the oldest brother agreed. “As long as you all make Julia happy.”
Laughter erupted.
Owen clapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, man. That’s just weird. Only Miguel needs to make Julia happy.”
He looked confused. “But you said?—”
Justice’s cell phone buzzed with a notification. “The limo is here. Time to go, gentlemen.”
The others headed outside. Justice stayed behind for a moment with Miguel. “This is it, River. I have the rings. Do you have your wallet and plenty of cash?”
Miguel felt his back pocket. “Yes.”
“Cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Keys?”
“Yes.”
“Suitcase?”
Miguel pointed at it. Justice grabbed it. “Okay, my friend. I think we’re ready.”
“Justice, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“You changed my life the day you arrived in Laguna Beach as our Chief of Police. I don’t know why you chose me to be part of this team to have your back, but I’m eternally grateful that you did.”
“You’re one of the best men I’ve ever known, Miguel. Now, let’s get you married.”
“Yes, Chief.”
The women had already arrived at the Spanish mission.
Adrienne, Justice’s stepmother, had offered to coordinate the event to help the Washburns and the Riveras who had flown into California the previous day.
Adrienne gathered the groomsmen in a small anteroom where she and Franklin, Justice’s father, pinned boutonnieres to their lapels.
She ordered them to stay put until it was time to start.
Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long.
At precisely five o’clock, Miguel and Justice joined Father Dominguez at the front of the sanctuary.
Since Trey could play the piano and sing, he performed the traditional bridal march as the bridesmaids and groomsmen glided up the center aisle.
Dozens of roses in floral arrangements perfumed the air.
The music swelled voluminously when Julia appeared at the back of the church. Miguel’s jaw dropped when he saw her.
The bodice of her wedding gown was overlaid with delicate lace, interwoven with silver thread, and studded with pearls.
The silky skirt fell straight down her slender body, highlighting the gentle curve of her hips.
A long slit on one side revealed her shapely leg and thigh.
Her hair had been curled, piled on top of her head, and intertwined with small white flowers.
She had foregone a veil, which didn’t matter to him.
In her hands she clasped a lovely bouquet of cascading white roses adorned with greenery and babies’ breath.
As she grew closer, Miguel saw her dark eyes shining with love, hope, and faith.
Any doubts he might have entertained about the wisdom of this decision fled in that instant.
And when her father placed her hand in his, Miguel’s heart somersaulted.
He flashed her a confident grin. Julia’s mouth curved into an answering smile.
Before Father Dominguez began the traditional ceremony they chose, Trey sang Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero.” Julia’s eyes shimmered with tears. At the end of the song, she murmured, “You’ll always be my hero, Miguel.”
“I love you, Jules.”
“I love you more.”
After Trey joined his wife Kerry in the congregation, Father Dominguez began to speak.
“Dearly beloved?—"
From outside, the roar of motorcycles circling the mission interrupted the ceremony. Instinctively, even before they perceived the danger, Trey, his father Cameron McAdams, and Franklin McQuaid shouted in one voice, “Get down!”
The wedding guests didn’t hesitate and hid themselves between the pews. The Laguna Beach cops and Finnigan drew their guns. The thought that they shouldn’t have them flitted across Miguel’s mind as he grabbed Father Dominguez’s arm and yanked him down, then shoved Julia behind him.
The sanctuary doors blew open as if a tornado had struck.
Axalia Anderson, eyes wild and mouth salivating like rabid animal’s, rushed inside the mission with an AK-47 in her arms. She screeched something unintelligible, something insane, and pointed the rifle at Julia and Miguel.
“You killed my brother! You killed my entire family! And now I’m going to kill ALL of you! ”
The Laguna Beach cops fired. A hail of bullets struck her. Her body danced like a puppet, then collapsed.
Eerie silence followed in the wake of the gunfire.
Then, a man dressed in black leather pants, a death metal T-shirt, black leather jacket, and a variety of chains stepped through the open doorway.
He didn’t carry any visible weapons on him.
The stranger lifted Axalia’s bloody body into his arms and cradled her, as if he were a parent mourning the loss of his child.
His familiar eyes landed on Miguel. Justice. Owen. Hutch. Luca. Tawny.
“It’s over. Finally. For all of us.”
His gaze met Trey’s. A look passed between them, and they nodded at each other. The intruder left with his gruesome burden.
No one moved or spoke.
Eventually, Miguel murmured, “Holy Mary, Mother of God. Nash Carter .” So, he hadn’t hallucinated him after all. Questions ran rampant in his mind.
Leave it to Finnigan to break the ice or the horror or whatever the wedding guests were feeling after witnessing the shooting.
“Well, Miguel, I think a real live, crazy, vindictive bitch crashing your wedding trumps a ghost crashing mine. Congratulations! You win.” He glanced at Father Dominguez who was frowning in disapproval. “Sorry, Father, for cursing.”
Nervous laughter echoed in the sanctuary as the wedding guests slowly returned to their seats.
The ceremony resumed without any more unnerving interruptions.
When Father Dominguez pronounced them husband and wife, Miguel claimed Julia’s mouth in a hot kiss and dipped her, much to the audience’s delight.
A photographer took the obligatory round of photos while the guests headed to the reception being held at the Waldorf-Astoria Monarch Beach Resort seven miles south in Dana Point.
Miguel and Julia were also spending their brief honeymoon there but planned to take a romantic trip in December, after the election was over.
Due to March being an off season for weddings, they were able to reserve the Avalon Ballroom on the fifth floor of the resort for their reception.
Of course, it hadn’t hurt that the Secretary of State Barbara Washburn herself was the one inquiring about using the facility.
Miguel and Julia made their grand entrance after the bridal party amid clapping and cheering.
They took their places at the decorated head table, and the toasts began.
As Miguel’s best man, Justice not only had the guests laughing but damn near brought them to tears, too.
Afterward, the DJ opened the buffet table where event staff hovered nearby.
While getting drinks at the cash bar, Miguel confronted Trey about Nash Carter’s unexpected involvement with the Jalisco motorcycle gang. “What the hell were you thinking, Trey, by dropping Carter undercover into a drug cartel?”
Trey reached for his shot of whiskey, and they moved out of the line.
“Actually, Miguel, as soon as Nash heard about the Andersons’ escape from the mental hospital, he showed up at Quantico and offered to help.
When we realized the siblings were headed to Mexico, it wasn’t too difficult to place him with the Jalisco cartel.
They’re relatively new to the game and not too careful yet.
Nash even tried to rescue you and Julia in Tijuana.
It went somewhat awry, didn’t it? Who knew you and Julia would fight to protect Alfredo and Juan? You almost killed Nash, by the way.”
“Jesus, Trey. We had Julia’s cell phone. You couldn’t have given us a heads up?”
“He wouldn’t let us. But don’t worry about him. Agents will be getting him out of Mexico within the next twenty-four hours. He’s free in more ways than one.”
Thirty minutes later, Miguel and Julia moved onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. He’d chosen “A la Nanita Nana.” As the music began, tears sprang into Julia’s eyes.
“Oh, Miguel, you couldn’t have chosen a more perfect song. I think that night I knew I could fall in love with you.”
He placed a tender kiss on her lips. “Your tears that night broke my heart. All I wanted to do was kiss them away.” One slipped down her cheek, and he caught it with his lips. “Have I told you that you are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen? You steal my breath.”
Julia’s mouth curved into a lovely smile. “Thank you, Miguel.” She brushed a piece of lint off his shoulder. “And you were right. In your tux, you’re even sexier than James Bond.”
“I told you so,” he bragged with uncharacteristic pride.
She laughed and brought his head down to meet her upturned mouth.