Page 48 of In the Light of Sin

“I ain’t fuckin’ marrying her. Just walkin’ down to stand by Nyla.” Knight shot back at him.

V’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “So you think.”

“Jesus Christ.” Mitchell closed his eyes, pinching his nose to try to will away the nightmare picking his groomsmen was.

“Are you gonna defend walking me down the aisle like that?” I teased Sarge, who was just silently watching the aggressive display. He was nonchalant, hands in his hoodie pocket. I didn’t expect an answer from him as I watched on.

“I don’t gotta,” he said after a spell. “They try? They’ll see a bullet between their eyes.”

I grinned teasingly. “No man’s allowed to touch me but you?”

“Keep that smart lip up, Joslyn. I’ve cut off people’s hands before without a cause. I have no qualms about cutting them off for touching what’s mine.”

What’s his. Did this man even understand what he was saying?

But I couldn’t deny the warmth in my stomach at the thought of being Sarge’s girl.

Since Mitchell jumped the gun and decided to make Nyla his wife in the middle of the aisle instead of at the alter, Tyrant declared them married without even being ordained, and everyone just went with it. Nyla bit her lip, debating on what to do.

But she just threw herself at Mitchell again.

When the cheers got too loud, I had to excuse myself. One thing about wedding receptions was they were always loud—even with less than fifteen people, Tyrant and Knight with a few drinks in them could rival a sold-out football stadium.

Nyla offered to not have music at the reception for my comfort, but I adamantly refused. Nyla deserves to have her first dance with her husband and her father-daughter dance. I could handle the pain that came with it for one night with my best friend’s smile.

“Not gonna dance?” I teased when my body was shadowed by a much larger man.

“I don’t dance.” Sarge leaned against the patio deck fence with me. My eyes strained over to him, face directed towards the fenced-in backyard. The gate was a gray bricklayer with wiring at the top to prevent people from trying to climb over.

“I bet you have two left feet.”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “Do you like to dance?”

“By myself,” I admitted. When I was younger, I always dreamed of being a ballerina, like most girls. But… “Can’t exactly dance without music.” Just thinking of how loud music hurt my ears, the pain came back in full force. I knew he didn’t miss my grimace. He was by my side in a second flat. Hands to my ears, roughly removing my hearing aids for me. I began to rub soothing circles, unable to hear his voice anymore, only feeling the thumping of the loud music playing from the inside.

While I was trying to soothe my pain, my feet left the deck, and I’m sure I screamed as Sarge picked me up like a bride, standing still as I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself.

I didn’t know what I expected him to do, but it wasn’t the way he began to sway with me in his arms. Uneven and no posture, but he was putting in an effort to make sure I could do something I’d always loved doing on my own… together.

It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Boldly wrapping my arms around his neck, I felt him flinch slightly, his steps faltering, but he quickly regained his composure. Swaying to the beat of the music… or at least he tried. I wasn’t far off from him, having two left feet.

I didn’t need his words. I just needed him in any way he was willing to give me.

Sarge paused for a second, turning with me in his arms to reveal Libby. Her eyes widened briefly before she just turned on her heel and walked back into the party. My memory went back to the night after Sarge fucked me at the Catacombs, how he walked off with Libby. I looked up, concerned.

My mind went to the most logical reasoning, but if it was true… if people thought I self-destructed before? No, I would implode.

There’s no way Sarge would fuck Libby when he was with me… right?

Sarge walked through the party at the breakneck speed he used walking down the aisle. I felt eyes on us, but I could only focus on my thoughts. We stepped into the hallway before he settled me on my feet. I put my hearing aids back in before getting to the point. “Are you and Libby—”

“Ain’t fuckin’ Libby,” he stated adamantly. “She’s been helpin’ me with somethin’.”

“What is it?”

He stood there for a second before raising his hands, and my eyes unintentionally went to his disfigured left hand. He noticed before shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and twisting his neck to the side. “Nothin’.”

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