Page 47 of In the Light of Sin

Nyla smiled back at her, Victoria stepping out of the room with Claudia following after she promised to see us out there. Nyla inhaled shakingly, her hands trembling as Oakley and I stepped by her side. I put my hand on the small of her back, doing my best to smile at her reassuringly. “Ready to go marry Mitchell?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She laughed in disbelief. Marriage was always a foreign concept. Her goal was to attend school to become a nurse. Men weren’t ever in the plans until well after she graduated with a steady career. But life has ways of throwing what you thought you didn’t need at you when you needed it the most. “What if he says no?”

“I’m pretty sure Darrell will kill him,” Oakley spoke nothing but the truth. Mitchell would have a comfortable place at Hellbound if he ever hurt Nyla.

“He won’t say no.” Mitchell was obsessed with his future wife. Their relationship was rocky at first, and some days, it felt like the turmoil was too much for either to handle, but just like the beginning, they got through it–together. Marriage wasn’t always fifty-fifty. Some days, it was eighty-twenty or even ninety-ten. Not everyone had the best days, but a supportive partner to support you during your darkest times made the difference between giving up altogether.

There was nothing the two of them couldn’t survive that they hadn’t already. Nyla told me about the days Mitchell would have a far-off look all day, how he would glance at the spot on his arm he used to favor with his addiction. He was still scarred there, a forever reminder of who he used to be. He was better, but even love didn’t cure the demons that we were plagued with.

My lips twisted ruefully.

But I wished it did.

* * *

Everyone was seated in the chairs in the main room of the clubhouse–well,almosteveryone. As predicted, Tyrant and Knight have had ten beers between the two, the evidence scattered by their chairs in the middle row as I looked from the open front doors. Law sat in the front row with an arm around Claudia’s shoulder, who was sitting by Victoria, chatting her up with a silent Libby by her side who was devoid of all emotion as she stared hauntingly at the alter. Hex and Husk were nowhere to be seen–I understood why Hex wouldn’t show up, but I was a bit surprised to see Husk wasn’t here. He usually participated half-heartedly when everyone got together.

I wonder why he didn’t want to come to a wedding?

Mitchell was already up there, sneering and holding himself back from snapping at his special family on his special day while his groomsmen–Sarge and V of all people–stood outside with Oakley and I. V was close by a nervous Oakley’s side as she fiddled with the messy bouquet of flowers, while Sarge leaned against the front of the clubhouse wanting to get this over with. They weren’t dressed in normal wedding attire. They were dressed casually like Darrell was–cuts with black denim jeans on.

I bit my bottom lip, looking at how the jeans hugged Sarge’s thick thighs–nothing about this man was small. Hidden parts included. Darrell stepped around the corner, pocketing his phone. He excused himself a few moments earlier when he got a phone call. He grabbed the lapels of his cut, adjusting it before he looked menacingly at me, which made me inch back. Sarge, who noticed everything about me, stepped in front of Darrell. “Don’t.”

Darrell didn’t say anything as the music started. I wasn’t going to let Darrell’s distrust in me ruin my mood for Nyla’s wedding. She deserved a special day. Instead, I walked over to Sarge, placing my hand on his forearm and looking up at him as he dipped his head to me. “Ready?”

His head was pointed down in my direction, and I felt his eyes on me a fraction longer than normal. In typical Sarge fashion, he didn’t speak. He just started walking as I tripped over my feet and tried to stand upright. His legs were much longer than mine, and I basically had to jog to keep up with his pace down the aisle.

“Hey, asshole!” A voice called. No doubt in my mind, it was Tyrant. Because who else would be bold enough to call Sarge that? “You’re supposed to walk slowly. You’re basically running!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sarge growled, and I couldn’t help but thank God that this was a wedding only the Souls were invited to. If this was a wedding that the public was invited to, I think everyone would end up in a ditch or a jail cell before the reception even started. But thankfully, Sarge did quiet his steps at a pace I could keep up with. We separated at the end of the row, him standing beside Mitchell and me standing by myself on Nyla’s side.

I stood there looking for the next pair to walk down the aisle. I could see how red Oakley’s face was from here. V held out his elbow, and I swore I heard Claudia tell Trevor to knock his shit off when Oakley tentatively reached for it.

It was odd seeing V like this. Usually, he was uncaring. Some would even say he was lifeless and unhinged with the way he worked. But the way his eyes were soft around the edges as he made sure Oakley had a good grip on his elbow was a sight I don’t think we’d ever witness again.

There was a fifty-fifty chance he would kill you if you ever brought it up.

V was much more cautious of Oakley’s steps than Sarge was with mine. She held onto his left arm. His baseball bat was being dragged by his right, messing up the train of flowers purposely placed. The petals scattered around the bloodstained bat.

“Did you really have to bring that fuckin’ bat!” Trevor shouted at him from the chairs, and I swear I saw Mitchell’s hair gray a bit as he pinched his nose, trying to keep himself together. But honestly, everyone was better behaved than I would’ve expected.

When the wedding march played, and Mitchell saw his bride, his hazel eyes welled as he formed a fist and brought it up to his mouth to try to keep it inside.

Nyla was radiant. She rivaled the moon in her white dress, a sweetheart cut that flared like a princess dress at the waist. Darrell was proudly by her side as the wedding march sounded.

Mitchell ran down the aisle, making Darrell and Nyla stop in their trek as he ran towards his bride, cupping his hands on her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers. Nyla may have been wide-eyed and still holding onto Darrell’s elbow, but she reciprocated. Even if Darrell looked pissed. “You’re supposed to do that after the vows, you know!”

Mitchell lifted his hand, sticking his middle finger up to the general direction of where he heard the comment come from.

I had a feeling this was how a typical Souls wedding would go. It was the first one in the club’s history. I snickered as the shouting started. I couldn’t hear their words, but it brought me back to last week’s altercation between the men. Mitchell didn’t want any groomsmen, but Nyla wanted Oakley and I by her side, so he relented with two. When Tyrant and Knight stepped up—Sarge and V shot them down.

I still grinned every time I remembered the exchange.

“You know I’m the one gettin’ married, right?” Mitchell reminded everyone. “I get to decide who’s by my side and who ain’t.”

“Well, we know that.” Tyrant crossed his arms, a pointed look at Sarge and V. “But they don’t.”

“I’m walkin’ with Oakley,” V declared, lifeless eyes pointed in Tyrant and Knight’s direction as he lifted his baseball bat from the ground, pointing it at them. “You try? You die.”

---