Page 135 of Killer Kiss

Riddick would probably snap her neck right here and now.

Quickly followed by my own.

Jez saw the expression in my eye and sat back, resigned.

I turned in my mother’s direction, stupidly hopeful she might see how much I didn’t want this and let it go at the last second.

The woman had her phone up, recording the ceremony with a huge smile plastered across her over-Botoxed face.

Of course she’d want proof our families had joined. She’d probably send the video out on the dark web just so everyone knew our family had a new connection. A dangerous one that should be feared and respected.

I sighed heavily. “Just get on with it,” I told the officiant.

With a pitying expression, she began, “Riddick. Do you take Ophelia to be your lawful wedded wife, in sickness and in health, ’til death do you part?”

“I do,” Riddick said proudly. His voice dropped, so only the officiant and I would hear. “’Til death, Little Ophelia.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Do you, Ophelia, take Riddick to be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and health, ’til death do you part?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Riddick’s fingers tightened around mine, but all I could see was me and Augie wrapped around each other in his little house.

Dirt-fucking-poor.

But happy.

I couldn’t give that up.

Even if Augie didn’t want me, I’d had a taste of what that kind of love felt like. How could I go the rest of my life, never feeling that again?

“Don’t embarrass me, Ophelia,” Riddick said, low and dangerous. “We made a deal.”

Banjo. I squeezed my eyes shut. My happiness. Or Banjo’s life.

There was no contest. I had to go through with it. “I d—”

The back door swung open so hard the glass cracked and splintered, falling to the paved ground in spears.

My brother walked in, gun raised, and without a second of hesitation, let off a single shot.

It whistled past me so quick I didn’t even register it was a bullet.

Riddick let out a grunt, drawing my attention to the crimson pool of red spreading across his white jacket.

Screams and shouts erupted around us. Another gunshot pierced the air.

“And you get a bullet,” Scythe said above the chaos, taking down one of Riddick’s guests who’d pulled a weapon. “And you get a bullet,” he cried, sending another shot into a man who lunged for him. He shot another two rounds into the sky, looking like the full-on psychopath I knew he could be.

With his hands raised like he was summoning a demon from the skies, he yelled, “You can all get fucking bullets if you want to keep this bullshit up!”

A hush fell over the crowd. All of us staring at the scene my brother had created.

He strode up the red carpet, stepping by the one man he’d killed and another who was on the ground writhing.

Riddick had stumbled back, unable to hold his weight with all the blood he was losing. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from shouting at his sister. “Do something!”