Page 13

Chapter Twelve

Genesis

I rummaged through his drawers and put on a pair of boxers that I had to roll up to stay on my hips and a wife-beater that basically only covered my nipples. I used a rubber band to tie my hair up in a bun and grabbed all his hair products off the bathroom counter.

“Thank fuck he’s a metrosexual type of guy.” I grinned like the manic I was acting like as I pulled the microwave off the counter in the kitchenette and placed it on the chair by the door.

I plugged it in, opened the door, put the cans of hairspray and shaving cream inside, and set the timer for two minutes.

I had already flipped the bed, so I rushed behind it for cover, scrunched down in the furthest corner of the room, covered my ears, and waited.

The explosion was louder than I expected, and the mattress tilting back and falling on me was a shock. The heavy thing trapped me, causing difficulty breathing, and no matter how much I pushed, I can’t move it from my current position.

A fire alarm starts to ring, followed by shouting.

I coughed and wheezed, trying to breathe as I started to feel crushed under the heavy memory foam. I struggle harder as the voices grow closer. I did all this so I could escape, not trap myself, but the more I move, the harder it gets to breathe.

“GENESIS!” I try to turn my head, but can’t manage it.

“Help,” I can barely hear my own plea, so I know whoever is calling out can’t.

“What the fuck happened in here?” A strange, deep, angry voice yells out, followed by a spraying noise.

“Grab that side, Knight.” That voice I do recognize, and it sounds worried.

The mattress is lifted off me, and I can finally get a lungful of air that I desperately need.

“What the fuck were you thinking!” Zek grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me.

“That death was better than being forced to marry you!” I choke the words out between coughs, and all the activity in the room seems to stop so that the men can all look at me.

“Pirate?” Knight checks in with his friend, who is staring at me like he’s going to have an aneurysm.

The vein above the eye patch is throbbing, and if he grinds his teeth any harder, they’ll all crack. His lip is curled like he wants to talk, but is biting back the words while his fingers dig into my skin painfully.

“PADRé!” The word flies out of his mouth so abruptly that everyone jumps.

“Yeah, Prez?” A young man walks up to us wearing a clerical collar, and I frown.

“You have a priest in your club?” Someone near me snorts while another hisses another his breath.

“He’s our Chaplain. Don’t we deserve to have our sins heard?” Knight slaps the poor boy so hard between his shoulders that he almost face plants.

“Did they kidnap you, too?” I reach out to help him stand up straight, but Zek pulls me back and into his arms with a growl.

“He volunteered.” I glance over my shoulder at his words.

I’m staring into his good eye, which is looking at his Chaplain harshly.

“The fuck I did!” Padré curses at Zek before turning to me with a boyish little grin that ain’t fooling anyone in this room.

“Yes, I was. Dragged out of my nice warm bed in the middle of the night before I could finish school and take my vows.” He crosses himself and kisses his fingers as the room erupts into various forms of laughter.

“That bed was in the nunnery, Padré.” Knight crosses his arms while he watches on from his lean on the wall.

“As I remember it, you were so drunk that you were trying to marry one of the poor sisters so the act you’d performed wouldn’t land you both in hell. Or so you were saying when I pulled you out of the window so the Archbishop wouldn’t see you, and I believe the term on your expulsion papers was 'excommunicated.’” Zek says, causing Pardé to shrug.

“I may have been drafted.” How did I end up in this mess?

“Marry us,” Zek says abruptly, causing another bout of silence.

“Um, Prez. That shit’s permanent.” Padré leans in to whisper.

“The Catholic church has recognized divorce for ages!” I protest as I try in vain to dislodge myself from Zek.

“Mujer, you almost blew yourself up trying to escape me. That shit stops now.” He turns me so I have nowhere to look but at his face.

We’re both breathing hard as Padré clears his voice.

“Actually, that’s a common misconception. The Catholic Church does not, in fact, recognize divorce. Well, not in the sense of dissolving a valid marriage. It teaches that the Sacrament of Marriage is a lifelong commitment, therefore making divorce a big fat fucking no. So again I say, are you sure ’cause this shit is soul deep permanent.” I see his head moving back and forth between us, but neither of us looks his way.

We’re both way too busy in this battle of wills to blink, let alone look away.

“Do it,” Zek grits out.

“Dearly beloved,” he starts, and someone slams something, making me jump, finally breaking off the stare.

“You might want to read this first.” A tall bald man slaps a folder on the counter I got the microwave off of.

That’s when I noticed the destruction I had caused in the room. I covered my mouth as I surveyed the room. Zek moved to see what had been brought in, but didn’t let go of me for a moment.

The death grip he has on me is both comforting and annoying at the same time.

“This changes things,” the bald guy says.

“Nah, this makes it even sweeter.” Zek sounds excited, and that sends a chill down my spine.

“That paperwork is about me, isn’t it?” His grin doesn’t budge when he turns back to me.

“Sure fucking does and it’ll only cost you two words to find out how.” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Fuck you?” He chuckles with a nod.

“Close, I do.” He nods at Padré, who starts the classic wedding speech all over again.

“Dearly beloved...”