Page 24 of Declan

“Dearly beloved…”

9

Coming to Terms

Declan

Iftherewasevera moment in time where I wanted to pound my chest and crow in victory, this would be the time.

Of course, since I’m currently standing beside a woman who didn’t technically want to marry me, I will refrain.

I grasp her hand in mine, squeezing a touch more firmly than I normally would so she won’t get the idea that she can let go. I turn to face the small crowd, my side standing and clapping while the people on her side are slowly starting to rise with looks of bewilderment and confusion.

Issa is standing silently beside me, gripping my hand as if it’s a lifeline, and I can’t decide if she’s trembling from nerves or rage—or maybe both.

Regardless, this doesn’t dull the excitement simmering in my veins, and even if she turns on me the moment we step behind a closed door, aiming for my jugular, my spirits are high.

She squeezes my hand again, drawing my attention to her face, and the look she gives me is questioning, bordering on panic. I smile, stepping into her and dropping my head so I can whisper in her ear, “How about we skip the reception and go hide?”

She nods emphatically, whispering back, “Yes, please.”

Since this was my plan all along, her easy agreement is the icing on an already perfect day. I figured she’d insist on attending the small reception she had planned, or she would want to avoid it while also avoiding me, so I have a plan for any and all avenues on standby.

I turn to Dare, who’s standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me to give him the signal. When I show him two fingers, he nods and then turns and strides swiftly down the aisle, our small group of people falling in behind him.

I turn back to Issa and ask, “Do you need to say anything before we leave?”

She looks out at the people still standing there looking befuddled and then turns back to Jessica and says, “Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll be in touch.”

Jessica says nothing, but she’s obviously trying to fight a smile and failing, so I ask, “Would you like me to make a spectacle of myself?”

Jessica’s small smile immediately broadens, and she nods. “That would be awesome. If you’re so inclined.”

Now, everyone knows that Declan Hughes loves himself, and I am always inclined, but this particular moment will be a great pleasure for me.

Issa eyes me suspiciously and attempts to take a step away from me, but my hand gripping hers prevents her from moving too far. She narrows her eyes at me and says, “What are you going to do?”

I give her my best predatory look up, then step into her without warning, stooping down and placing my shoulder at her hips. I stand, taking her with me so she’s facedown over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, careful that her dress is secure so no embarrassing pictures will end up on the internet. I turn back to the crowd and say, “Thank you for coming. I’m going to take my bride and go.”

I waste no time making my way down the stairs, walking with purpose down the aisle and out the door into the sunshine. Dare is waiting there with our getaway car, the back door open, and I don’t pause as I deposit Issa into the back and climb in behind her, slamming the door.

Since I haphazardly tumbled her into the car, it takes her a moment to right herself, and she turns on me, glaring as she sputters, “What the hell, Declan? Was that really necessary?”

I’m still smiling, and I know I likely look like a self-satisfied fool at this point, but I do not give one single fuck. “Maybe not,” I reply agreeably. “But at least now, Jessica has several ways she can spin it, using those newsreels to her advantage.”

“Bobby is the one who’s gonna be using this news in his favor,” she mutters rather petulantly.

I laugh, sitting back in the seat and stretching my arms up over my head so I can then drop an arm behind her, inching closer. “Bobby can try, but it won’t work. Everyone knows that Bobby is a fucking shit bag, and if he says too much, the few people left who don’t know will find out, and he can’t have that.”

She straightens in the seat, and I move a tiny bit closer, relieved when she doesn’t immediately move away. She reaches for her bag that she just noticed sitting on the seat adjacent to her and pulls her phone out, frowning at it. “I can’t believe he hasn’t even sent me a message. He doesn’t show up to the wedding he fucking insisted on, and he doesn’t even send me a message. Fucking unbelievable.”

I give up pretending I’m not trying to be close to her and drop my arm on her shoulder, giving her a little squeeze as I say, “He’s a spineless fucking asshole, doll face. Sure, it probably still stings, but before too long, you’ll accept that you dodged a bullet and will be happy he didn’t show.”

She looks me over with a suspicious look on her face. “And you’re not just another bullet?”

I laugh, squeezing her again as I reply, “Oh, I’m a bullet, darlin’. But I’m not a bullet you’ll be able to dodge.”

Her laugh is short and bitter, and then she mutters, “I can’t believe I fake married you.”