Page 19 of Hunted Vengeance (Alpha Nights: Unlikely Heroes #2)

Chapter Eighteen

MERRICK

When the crowded parking lot seems to clear of the vendors’ arrivals, it’s time for us to go. Keeping my gun in my grasp, I hold it against my thigh so it’s camouflaged and I can slip into the church without being noticed… too much, at least.

Theron goes left, and I head right. I assume that Colette is in the bridal room getting ready, and thankfully, Boden is able to find a back entrance to the room so I can slip in without being noticed.

Once I reach the door, I gently slide it open. I can hear women’s voices in the distance, none being Colette’s, as I take a step inside. Thankfully, there are some curtains and even a dressing accordion set up, so I gently close the door behind me, twisting the lock into place when I do.

The lock is flimsy as fuck, just like on all pocket doors, but I’m not going to be caught off guard if someone tries to come in here behind me. Only I’m allowed to spy on Colette. I want to barge into the room but decide against it.

As much as I want to drag her out of here, I also need to ensure that we are able to disappear for a while before her being missing is noticed. We need to be able to get away as quickly as we can and travel as far as possible before anyone starts looking for us.

So I stay back and listen. I wait to hear her voice, hoping that she will say something, anything, so I know she is okay. Seeing her appearing so thin and disheveled sent my anxiety through the fucking roof as it is.

I need to know that she is okay.

I need to hear her voice.

I’m not sure what the women are all talking about. I’m finding it hard to concentrate, but when I hear one of them ask Colette if she’s excited for today, that’s when I hear her voice. Her tone is soft, as it always is, but her voice sounds raspy, almost like she hasn’t used it in a while and is out of practice. But I do hear her.

“Not really.”

Though this situation warrants no smiles, my lips still curve up into a grin at her response. I’m glad she’s telling the truth. Nobody responds to her words, and a few moments of complete silence later, another voice asks her to look in the mirror.

“You’re all finished, and it’s flawless,” she says.

Colette doesn’t speak immediately, but I can hear her shifting around before she says something.

“My hair and makeup look gorgeous,” she murmurs.

I can hear the sincerity in her voice, even if she isn’t happy about marrying this piece of shit. She appreciates these women and their hard work. As they pack up their things, I can hear them calling out to her as they leave the room, and then the door opens and closes.

Tilting my head to the side, I wait to hear if they’re all gone, and just before I get ready to step out and reveal myself, the door opens again, and I hear another woman’s voice. She practically sings as she walks into the room, and I pause.

“It’s time for your dress,” the woman practically squeals, and I then realize who it is.

It’s the wedding planner. I’ve been watching her for long enough to know nobody else is that excited about this wedding. This bitch wants Colette out of the picture because she thinks she’s going to be the next Mrs. Bellucci.

She wants to sign her own death wish. That’s on her. She can have Adriano all to herself because I’m taking Colette out of here, and she will never be back. I hear the rustling of fabric, and as much as I don’t want to think of Colette in a wedding gown, that’s exactly what image pops into my mind.

I never did get to see her in a real wedding dress because our marriage was so rushed. We didn’t have a true wedding. I should give that to her next time. When this is done and we’re back home, when she’s safe, I’m going to give her the wedding she wants. Not this over-the-top shit, but what she wants.

Because Colette deserves everything she wants.

COLETTE

Marina helps me with my dress. The naked dress. Once she zips it up, she makes a noise in the back of her throat. I take that moment to lift my gaze to my reflection in the mirror.

It’s too big for me.

In fact, it’s almost so big that you can see the parts that the strategically placed appliqués are supposed to cover… like my boobs, my pussy, and my ass.

“How the hell did you lose this much weight?” Marina snaps. “You know, if you had bothered to show up instead of being too fucking busy and selfish, then you would have a dress that fits properly. You’re going to ruin the entire aesthetic of this wedding,” she snaps.

I’ve offended her by being kidnapped, chained to a bed, and given one meal a day for the past three weeks. Frankly, I don’t give a shit about Marina or her being upset or happy. I couldn’t care less about her as a person or her opinion.

“You don’t have to be here or put your name on it,” I say. “You’ve already been paid and fucked.”

I almost cover my mouth in surprise that I’ve said what I did out loud. Honestly, I can’t believe I just blurted out those words, but then again, why the hell not? Because for the first time in my life, it feels good to just get it out, and I won’t be able to again, probably ever.

It’s not like I’d ever be able to smart-mouth Malcolm. He’d slap me into next week, I’m sure. Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I lift my chin and look down my nose at my reflection. I hate myself right now.

The way I look from head to toe is so fake, except for the bruising around my neck. That is the only real part of me right now. Marina snorts, then leans forward, her lips beside my ear before she whispers.

I know that this is only an attempt to intimidate me. It doesn’t work. This woman couldn’t intimidate me if she tried. The fact that she thinks she has some kind of hold over my father because she spreads her legs for him is pretty hilarious.

“This is the last day I have to worry about you,” she hisses. “I can’t wait until you go to Malcolm, where you’ll be fucked by anyone and everyone who pays him. I hope he sells tickets to watch. I’ll be the first in line.”

I’m not sure how her words make me feel. I know they’re supposed to scare me. She’s saying everything I am dreading about this new life of mine. She doesn’t realize that while I’m scared to death of what is awaiting me as Malcolm’s wife, I’m more concerned with the talk of luring boys.

I cannot stop thinking about it and what he wants with them. What kind of luring is he talking about, and what awaits these boys? Biting the inside of my cheek, I keep my spine straight and my body loose.

I refuse to show any emotion in front of this bitch.

Marina believes that she’s somehow delivered a blow and takes a step backward. Her eyes hold mine in the reflection of the full-length mirror. Then her lips curve up into a snarky smirk. I give her nothing, mainly because I think nothing of her.

Whatever she knows isn’t going to matter in a few weeks when my father gets tired of her. She’ll be dead. Women don’t last long in his presence when he’s done using them for whatever it is he wants. I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I just watch as she walks out the door, finally leaving me alone.

Turning my back to the mirror, I close my eyes as I take a moment to just breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Then I feel warm air wash against my cheek. Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn my head toward that warmth and exhale a long breath. Warm lips touch mine. It’s easy to imagine them to be Merrick’s, but that’s impossible. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to wake up from this nightmare.

But I have to. Because reality is going to slap me in the face in just a few minutes. When my eyes open, so does my mouth, and I start to make a noise, but he presses his palm against my lips.

“Shhh,” he rasps.

I nod, my eyes widen, and I try not to scream with excitement. I want to scream and tell the whole world that he’s here to save me. But instead of pulling me against his body, he takes a step backward, his hand falling from my mouth.

I watch as he turns around and walks toward the door. I hold my breath, watching as he walks away from me. I want to run after him, but I don’t think I could in this dress and heels, even if I wanted to. So instead, I watch him, waiting for him to leave me—again.

He doesn’t open the door, though. Instead, he flips the lock in place, locking us in this room. Turning around, he faces me. I watch as his eyes darken. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as he moves toward me.

One step after another until he’s so close that he can touch me. I press my lips together, closing my eyes slowly before I reopen them. He reaches out and wraps his arms around me, his fingers gripping the back of my loose dress. He tugs on the fabric, pulling it tight around my body, and drags me closer to him.

“You’re here,” I breathe against his mouth.

“And you’re mine.”

Before I can deny his words and tell him that I’m not, he shoves his tongue into my mouth and tastes me. Fully. Completely.

He tastes me like I’m his.

And I am.

His.

Fully.

Completely.

That is exactly who I am. It’s all I’ve ever been. Lifting my arms, I cup his cheeks as I melt into him. His kiss consumes me. Slowly, he breaks the kiss, his teeth nipping my bottom lip.

“I’m going to fuck you in this dress, in this church, baby.”

“Please,” I rasp.

I want him to defile every part of me in this church. I don’t care how wrong it is. He’s here with me. He’s got his arms around me, his mouth touching mine, his voice raspy and sexy. His hands release my dress before he grips the fabric at my thighs.

Slowly, he grasps the beaded lace material as he gently glides it up my body. “This dress is ugly as fuck,” he rasps against my mouth.

“I hate it,” I state. “It’s ugly as shit.”

He chuckles, touching his mouth to mine again. “Yeah, it is, but I’m going to fuck you in it anyway. Who do you belong to?” he asks.

“You, Merrick. I am yours.”

“Damn right you are.”