Chapter Sixteen
AYDA
Organizing a memorial in three days was so much easier when you hated the son of a bitch who was being mourned. The fact that every man riding behind the hearse would have rather set the coffin inside on fire than put it in the ground was neither here nor there. We’d had several ATF SUV’s following us through Babylon, and we’d had to make our mourning convincing. Owen was supposed to be one of us, so we’d sold it as best we could.
Drew had taken the whole thing in his stride, and I’d ridden behind him, my arm’s tight around his waist. He stroked my hand with one of his and steered with the other as we rode. Calm, but stoic because that’s what had been expected of him. When we’d pulled into the cemetery we’d found as far away from Babylon as we could without being suspicious, Drew removed his helmet and gloves, and he led me in without a word.
How the boys didn’t just throw the casket in the hole was beyond me. If anyone noticed that Owen’s box was missing the adornments that Harry’s had, they didn’t say anything. Inside and out there was no reference at all that he’d ever been part of The Hounds, and there never would be. This was one morething that the ATF and people of Babylon didn’t need to know. It wasn’t like any of them had been there to compare the two.
Autumn and I hadn’t even bothered to have the ceremony overseen by a religious figure. Though Autumn had suggested finding a Satanist to ensure his worthless soul was sent to the right part of Hell where he would suffer for the rest of eternity. I felt it was a waste of money, and Drew had agreed with my assessment. In fact, his response had been that I should spend less time on that fucker’s hole in the ground and more time on our wedding.
We’d talked about our wedding a lot since we’d decided to move ahead with the ceremony. In those moments when it was just he and I, Drew seemed to have an odd sense of peace surrounding him. He was composed, levelheaded, but never complacent. He seemed to understand that this was the calm before the storm but was confident that all the moving parts were doing what needed to be done. Jedd and Eric were back in their roles, but Rubin was nowhere to be seen. Something else Drew didn’t seem too concerned about, as it had been a part of the plan set in motion the night of the fires.
I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Drew. He’d always been relentless and in control of every piece of the machine that was his club. Since he’d come to the conclusion that he was losing control, he was more open to discussing what was happening next and spending extra time in the war room with Eric, Jedd, and Slater to discuss how they needed to proceed. That left Autumn and me free to use his office to plan the wedding.
Which was how I ended up standing in the middle of a bridal shop in Waco.
There was so much white and tulle in one place, it made me anxious. Autumn insisted that we make a day of it, and Deeks was currently in a bar across the street killing time so he didn’t have to be a part of thiswomen shit,as he so gracefully put it. Drew and he had decided that Deeks would take up his role asunofficial bodyguard again until the shitstorm had been dealt with. I was about five seconds away from following Deeks to get a shot when the over-helpful attendant pushed a tall glass of champagne into my hand.
“Oh, thanks, but I can’t...” I didn’t bother finishing. The glass was swept from my hand by Autumn and traded for a simple but stunning white gown. It was an off-the-shoulder dress in what was called a mermaid cut. There were beads, sparkles, and a train that looked like a deathtrap. “What’s this?”
“Cocaine.”
The assistant looked almost shocked by the response and took one step back, attempting to appear busy by organizing some of the dresses Autumn had stacked on a rolling rack for me to try. No two were the same either. She had corsets with full skirts, empire waists, princess, ball gowns, and some with so much tulle it looked it had been made from a cloud.
“You know what I mean.” I snorted.
“None of these are your style.”
“Right.”
“It wasn’t a question,” Autumn said, grinning at me. “I already know what dress I think you should get that will knock Drew off his feet.”
“But…”
“I’m asking you to indulge me. You have a figure that I never had and never will have. You’re getting married, which I never will do or want to do.Andyou’re the only daughter I will ever come close to having. You see where I’m going with this?”
“You’re seriously going to make me do this?” I whined playfully, holding up the dress and studying it. Autumn already knew I would do anything for her, but when she held her silence, I was forced to glance back at her.
“Not make, sugar. I would nevermakeyou do anything, but beg? Blackmail? Guilt into? Abso-freaking-lutely.”
I studied her and let my shoulders sag. There was a part of me that said this could be fun, but that part was tiny and insignificant—the same part that had said goading Owen into bitch slapping me was a fantastic idea. That part of my brain was the den of bad decisions. I eventually conceded anyway.
“Fine. Pick five of your favorites, and then I want to see your serious pick.”
Autumn did a victory spin on the back of her cowboy boots and waved me toward the changing rooms with the champagne glass, while she headed to the cart with a dozen dresses already hanging from it.
I moved to the changing room with the gorgeous butnot memermaid style dress. I stripped out of my jeans and tank with hesitance, looking down at my black lace bra with a rebellious grin. Staring back up at the dress, though, and that sense of victory quickly died. This was going to be a long afternoon.
Five dresses and two hours later, Autumn seemed nowhere near ready to give up on her escapades. I, however, was exhausted. Wedding dresses were not light. You had to be a contortionist to get into some of them, lacing, buttoning, or hooking your way into the confines of them was nothing less than a full on pain in the ass. The corseted princess dress, with thousands of blinking beads and a fuller-than-full skirt, was my last indulgent dress. Though I admittedly felt pretty and looked the part of a bride, I was ready for the torture to be over.
“Wait. Tiara and heels to finish the look. Get up on the little stage with the mirrors.” I hesitated and glared pitifully at Autumn. “What? We have to do pictures of this one, too.”
She’d thrown veils, heels and every other bridal accessory imaginable with every dress before sending me to a small raised dais in the middle of a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree mirrored room. Then, she’d taken pictures.
Seeing that much of myself was not good for the ego.
“My God. Are you doing this to bribe me later in life?” Iasked petulantly.