“Tell me what? You’re scaring me. Did you two have a fight? Is that why you’ve been so sullen today?”
Huh. Maybe my mask hadn’t been quite as effective as I’d thought. Norma always could read me like a book, though. “We didn’t fight.” Well, we’d argued. “He’s decided to take the offer for protection.”
Her shoulders sagged. “The shooting was related to the trial then? I wondered as much. You’re probably not supposed to tell me anything, are you?”
“No, I’m not. But you already knew part of it.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s not a surprise. Honestly, I was half-expecting you to already have taken off. Will you disappear right after the wedding? Leave for your honeymoon and not come back?” Her voice was even, but I knew her well enough to detect the sadness in her tone.
And why shouldn’t she be sad? She thought her sister was about to disappear from her life.
At least my bad news meant that I wouldn’t have to leave her. “No. There isn’t going to be a wedding. He’s already gone.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not going to show.” A tear slid down my cheek. “He left without me, Norma. I’m supposed to pretend to be surprised when he doesn’t show up today, and I…I just can’t. I can’t do this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Of course he showed.” She pulled a hankie from her bra—only Norma—and dabbed at my face.
“No. He’s gone.”
She tucked the linen back in its hiding spot. “You’re delirious, Gwen. He’s already here. He’s waiting for you at the other end of the aisle.”
“Stop saying that.” I was frustrated now. “I’m telling you—”
She cut me off, pointing toward the carousel. “Would you just look?”
My heart began to pound, and a bubble of hope formed in my chest. Since we’d planned a short ceremony, we’d elected not to provide chairs, so I had to step out of line to peer around the audience.
But as soon as I did, I saw him. He was standing in front of the carousel, my brother at his side, looking sexy as hell in his tux as he waited for his bride to join him. God, he was such an asshole. Such a wonderful, amazing asshole.
And, oh, how I loved him. That fucker.
“Well, then,” I said, stepping into my place at the back of the line. “Guess I’m getting married.”
I blinked the tears out of my eyes and smiled for the first time all day.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Yo-Yo Ma arrangement of “Appalachian Waltz” began playing over the carousel’s loud speakers, and as if on cue, butterflies began fluttering in my stomach. It felt like an eternity passed as Laynie first walked down and then Norma.
Then the music changed to the acoustic version of Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Wedding Song,” and it was my turn. I stepped into the aisle. Immediately, my eyes locked on JC’s. It took everything I had not to run to him, and I concentrated on matching my steps to the slow beat of the music. I’d chosen the song, but I hadn’t realized how fitting the lyrics were until I heard them now. JC was the breath that I breathed, and though I’d learned that I wouldn’t literally die without him, I thought the singer’s sentiment was appropriate.
Finally, I made it to him, and I fell into his arms, not caring about what we were supposed to do at that moment or the audience behind us. Or maybe he reached for me. All I knew was he was holding me, gripping me to him with his one good arm as though he’d never let me go.
“I couldn’t go without you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I tried. I swear. I wanted to be the guy who could give you up to keep you safe, and I wasn’t strong enough.”
I clutched just as fiercely to his lapels, my face wet. “I love you, you piece of shit. Don’t ever leave me again, or I swear, I’ll fucking kill you.”
He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands. “Never. I could never leave you again.” Then he covered me in kisses—my nose, my cheeks, my chin. He pressed a final kiss on my lips, lingering for long seconds.
Our minister cleared her throat. “You aren’t supposed to kiss the bride until the end.”
The crowd laughed, and reluctantly, we let each other go. But JC found my hand and clutched it between us, tightly, even though it was the side that had been injured, as if daring anyone to tell him he had to relinquish it.
“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “Gwen, are you ready for this?”
He was reminding me I had the choice, I realized. Just because he’d shown up, just because we had all our friends and family watching, it didn’t mean I had to go through with this. It was good, at least, that he understood I might not want to after what he’d done. Ideally, I’d have a chance to get all my anger out in the open before saying I do. But, that wasn’t an option, and out of the options I did have, the one I chose was marry him. Love him, be with him, marry him. Every time.