Page 112 of Beautifully Reckless

“As you can see, she’s doing okay. Probably high on drugs and living her best life getting pushed around in a fucking pram.”

Abbey slaps her hand over her mouth as a laugh bubbles up.

“I’m sorry. That’s not funny.” She looks mortified that she laughed.

“What’s really funny is that Molly is getting better treatment than Celina.” I chuckle, and she giggles again, shaking her head at the madness of it all.

Thenshe falls silent again, taking a moment for that to sink in.

“So, because of me, Ayden’s parents and your club are suffering.”

“Uh-uh. Not because of you, but I’ll get to that in a moment, because it’s not just the Mitchells and my MC. The cops hit some of our biggest business associates, like the Marx family.”

Her eyes practically bug out of her head.

“You mean… Those guys in suits? Their family?”

I nod, as I stroke her pink strands behind her ear.

“Exactly.”

“But why?”

“To ruin the Southern Sadists’ rep,” I explain. “If our allies start turning against the club, it’ll weaken us. We’ll have no one to back us up, and provide extra protection for you.”

“So itisbecause of me,” she deadpans, looking pissed like I’m lying to her.

“Angel, it’s partly because of you, but the raids have more to do with me because I kind of… threatened Donny Allen and told him to tell his uncle that Ringo was coming for him.”

She blinks.

And then blinks some more.

“What? So now Ian Allen has made it personal because of you?”

“Pretty much.” I nod.

For a long beat she contemplates what I’ve shared with her, and I know the moment her confusion returns by the pucker of her brow.

“None of that explains why everyone is here to celebrateourwedding.”

“That’s the next part of this shit show, Angel.”

“Of course,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There are only a couple of ways to mend the damage done with our associates to show them we are serious about our business.”

“Well, let’s choose the way that doesn’t mean I have to marry you,” she rushes out, and fuck, why does it hurt so fucking much every time she rejects the idea of marrying me?

“You know, you’re giving me a complex with how much you hate the idea of becoming my wife, Angel.”

She rolls those gorgeous eyes again. “What are the options?”

Standing from the edge of the bath, I toe off my boots and step into the tub, folding myself down into the other end, bringing us face to face. She shifts a little to let my legs slide on either side of her, and her delicate hands come to rest on top of my denim clad knees, her touch alone showing me I haven’t lost her, despite her anger.

“Option one, is the option I’mnotwilling to do. But, if you must know, it’s casting you out and washing our hands of you.”

Her eyes instantly redden, like she’s fighting back the threat of tears.

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