Page 66 of Knot Yours

An organizer requests guests to join the reception inside the home’s grand ballroom while the newlyweds share a private moment. I suppose that private moment is to learn if I passed Dario’s test or if I’m going to hell tonight.

When Dario orders his men to remain by the pool instead of coming inside with us, I breathe a little easier.

Until Dario orders me upstairs.

Austin

I consider it a small mercy that Marisol is walking away from me for the ceremony. If her face displayed one ounce of the misery I saw in the gossip article photos, I don’t think I could have kept from shooting up the place and grabbing her. I’m barely hanging on as it is, knowing she has to have lost all hope by now.

The sick feeling in my stomach worsens with each step she takes toward Cruz. As much as I wish I didn’t have to see any of this, I’ll endure it because she has to.

My fist nearly flies through the window when that bastard slips a ring on Marisol’s finger, and I’m even more tempted when I have to watch him put his filthy lips on her. Guilt shreds me over being unable to stop this wedding from happening. Cruz has tainted a moment that shouldn’t have been his.

The ceremony ends, and I’ll finally learn if I’ve guessed right or wasted an entire night on a wrong decision.

Thankfully, my strategy pans out. Cruz and Marisol march down the aisle together, continuing over the pool bridge. It appears I have some deity on my side as Cruz instructs his men to remain by the pool. Sensing this may be my best, if not only opportunity, I send a text to Ruiz to give me five minutes and then provide me with some kind of diversion. He replies immediately with a thumbs up.

It’s just you and me now, motherfucker.

I open the attic access carefully, dropping soundlessly to the floor. Piper jumps down to me, and I signal her to be silent and remain seated when I set her down. I peek over the balcony as Marisol and Cruz walk in, my whole body tensing when he orders her upstairs.

I’ll be dead before I let him put a hand on her. I dart over to the opposite side of the room, pressing my back against the wall, waiting for the right moment. Cruz’s voice carries up the stairwell, sounding a lot like a dead man. “You did well, Marisol.”

“Don’t touch me!”

Sounds of a struggle precede feet shuffling awkwardly up the remaining stairs. My grip on the pistol is bruising, aching to end the bastard. I’m surprised I don’t hear the bones in my hand snapping as hard as I’m squeezing the weapon.

The two near the top of the steps and Marisol’s panicked appeal nearly breaks me. “Please. I thought you said you’d leave me alone.”

Cruz’s answering chuckle is sinister. “I know, but you, my bride, are just too tempting not to have one taste at least.”

Marisol whimpers, but the sound is cut off by a gasp when she reaches the top step. “Piper?”

“What the hell?!” Cruz thunders.

I step away from the wall and press my gun to Cruz’s temple. “Get your filthy fucking hands off her.”

“Oh my god! Austin!”

Marisol rushes forward, but I want her away from Cruz. For all I know, he’s armed to the teeth. We’ll be screwed if he puts a knife to her throat or a gun to her head. “Stop. Listen, Olowa, take Piper and get downstairs. Piper, wache.”

Cruz laughs and turns so the barrel of my gun sits squarely between his eyes. “You won’t shoot, boyfriend from Virginia. This place would be surrounded by my men in seconds. I’m afraid you wasted your time coming here. You won’t leave this place alive, and Marisol won’t leave at all. She’s my wife. My property.”

I move my finger from the side of the gun to the trigger. “She isn’t your fucking anything.”

“The piece of paper the priest has says otherwise.”

The prick’s triumphant grin tempts me, but Cruz is right. I won’t shoot. If only I had a suppressor and subsonic rounds. I back off the trigger but gouge the barrel into his skin. If I could, I’d shove the gun into his skull.

“Marisol, hurry,” I urge, ignoring the asshole shooting his mouth off.

Her lip wobbles, all her hope and fear clashing in her dark eyes. “My father—”

“Is safe. No one can get to him.”

“You Bastardo!”

Cruz jumps back, pulling a knife from his belt. He’s an equal distance from Marisol and me. I can’t let him get to her. “Marisol, go now!”

---