Page 50 of Keep Me (Rebel Hearts Heists 2)
Unfortunate Commitments
Sloane
As we make our way down to the tender, not particularly looking forward to going toward the yacht, I’m handed a life jacket and a glass of champagne. That kind of makes me giggle. Bond girls never have to worry about health and safety but international criminals obviously are careful not to get sued.
The short boat ride feels like nothing and all too soon we’re walking onboard. We’re directed toward where I assume the wedding will be held on deck. The woman who leads us seems fairly friendly but I find myself annoyed when she points to where I’ll need to go to be with the bride before her big day. I mean don't get me wrong, I know that is fairly common … if you’re friends or close to the person. However, that’s not the case with Alicia, so I just find this frustrating if anything.
The protests are on the edge of all of their lips but instead of being difficult, figuring I want to talk to her anyway, I decide to roll with it. Not giving a fuck about her being there I step up to each of my boys, feeling oddly off, a weird sense of premonition weighs on me. I sort of figure that at this point if this lady says something I’ll just be marked as crazy for being with so many men or she’ll have some tasty gossip to spread around the staff. I kiss and whisperI love youto each of them, before winking at their surprised faces. I slip into the cabin she pointed at and let the door silently shut behind me.
Almost immediately, that feeling comes back. I freeze hearing the soft sound of crying, my steps taking me silently across the soft carpeting. My brow dips as I come across a sight that will probably be stuck in my brain for some time.
Alicia is sitting at a large vanity, flowers surrounding her in bright tropical pink and white. The stunning woman has her head down on the vanity top, hair spilling over her shoulders and her tan skin highlighting her stunning wedding dress. It’s tight and mermaid style, covered in diamonds that actually look way classier than I expected. As if hearing me, she looks up and I wince noticing that her perfect makeup is ruined by black mascara staining her face.
"Oh my." She swallows and grabs some tissues blotting her makeup. "Sorry, Sloane. I guess I just am a bit nervous and I get very emotional—"
Yeah, this shit isn’t cold feet. There’s definitely more to it here.
"Hey." I walk closer., "It's totally fine, you don't need to explain yourself to me. Really. Come on, let me help you with your makeup. It's a bit streaky."
She offers me a thankful look and sits up straighter. "Sloane, thank you, I am really thankful that you are here, I was so worried that Blaine wouldn't want to come."
I nod, smoothing concealer over the streaks, as her eyes close allowing me to fix the rest of it. I speak softly, "Blaine is your son, Alicia, of course he wants to be here."
And because your son may or may not be a high-level criminal that needs to clear his name … but who is judging, right?
"I wouldn't have blamed him for not wanting to …" She sighs and looks authentically regretful. "I have put him through a lot and well, his biological father was never around to begin with so I felt like I just continued to try to find someone to fill that place for him. Well, that and keep our heads above water. Has Blaine ever told you about his childhood?"
"A bit," I hedge. I wonder what the hell she'll say.
"You must think terribly of me," she mumbles. "Growing up we lived on the streets, homeless for a bit and I'm ashamed to admit that I may have done some things that weren't exactly what a good mother would do …"
"Oh." I blink realizing her meaning.
"But you know all about that Sloane," she says, her voice softening, "about having to do things you don't want to? To keep someone safe?"
Before I can respond, a sense of premonition washes over me, my breath catching as the sound of a gun’s safety clicking off has me paling. Alicia won’t meet my gaze and as I turn to face the gunman her soft words echo through the space.
"I'm sorry, Sloane."
No words can describe the terror I’m feeling as my knees buckle, and I grab onto the vanity in hopes of trying to keep myself afloat from the insanity.
"Sloane." A voice from my worst nightmares echoes., "It's time to come home."
Pierce. Fucking Pierce.
* * *
Royce
Something here is very, very wrong. Call it intuition but I have a horrible feeling and it revolves around Sloane’s sexy ass not being here next to me. I’m sitting on one of the chairs lined up for the ceremony and I can feel the others are on edge as well. I squeeze my fist slightly, my knuckles cracking as I look around.
"Where is Sloane?" River voices, sounding concerned.
"With my mother," Blaine says looking confused, because River was literally there when that occurred.
"Your mother is back there," Kaden states looking over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to see that the bride is in fact standing in the back laughing and talking with a group of people including her soon-to-be husband. Isn’t that supposed to be bad luck? Then again, they live for goddamn bad luck. The two of them together are bad luck incarnate.
"I am going to go see what's going on." Blaine stands up as my eyes track toward a flash of pink. The exact same pink of Sloane’s dress. What the hell is she doing over there? Without saying anything, I stand and cross the deck towards the back looking out at the expansive shoreline. I frown tilting my head as a head of dark hair and a pink form fitting dress stands out to me.
