Page 6 of Reaper Flame

Smothering him in the meringue skirt would be a breeze. Damn, I could even use it to conceal his body, too. The Blackbird edged closer to a muscled guard for protection like the cowardly piece of shit he was.

“Ready, Kitten?” Hiram asked, his fingers digging into my arm.

“As I’ll ever be,” I murmured through gritted teeth.

When Hiram set his mind to something, there was no way to change it. He steered me out of the front door and straight into a waiting car before I could take a gulp of fresh air. He left nothing to chance. High-security prisoners getting escorted to jail were given more freedom.

Heading to your wedding was a moment people waited for all of their lives. The journey should be filled with nerves, excitement, racing pulses... instead, the atmosphere was more depressing than a funeral march.

“Is security really necessary?” I asked, looking out of the window to see a fleet of Hiram’s men surrounding us on bikes and cars.

“Nothing will spoil my Kitty’s special day,” Hiram purred.

What did he seriously expect to happen? The twisted son of a bitch was enjoying every moment of my discomfort.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in a huffed silence as a numb acceptance took over. I may have no choice over who I was marrying, but I’d make damn sure the only thing mygroomwould kiss was my fucking fist.

We didn’t speak again until the car came to an abrupt halt. A tiny part of me still hoped this was another of Hiram’s sick jokes, but rolling up outside an old church extinguished any suspicions. Seeing the stained glass windows slammed me back to reality like a kick to the gut.

My mouth fell open. “A church?”

“The priest was very grateful for my generous donation,” Hiram replied with a casual shrug. If the devil could bribe a man of God, then there was no hope for the rest of us.

Maybe I’d be lucky and the wedding wouldn’t go ahead? The guests should ignite in flames the second they step over the threshold. A wedding was meant to be the best day of your life, not a sordid occasion that swapped bullets for bouquets and vows for death threats. Who needs a wedding registry when your guests could give you the best drugs and arms in the state?

Guests filed into the church, and I squinted to get a better view of their faces. I recognized many of them from working with Hiram over the years. Someone needed to blow up the church and purge the fuckers!

“Come on, Kitten,” Hiram urged, turning the door handle and stepping out of the car. He turned back to me and extended his hand. “You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Grudgingly, I shuffled out. A nearby guard thrust a bouquet of black roses into my hands, then turned to Hiram. He bowed his head as he handed over a matching boutonnière. Every last detail had been meticulously plotted.

Fuck.

This was happening.

This wasreallyhappening.

I counted to stop myself from spiraling into the pit of emotions rising from my core.

500...

Don’t show them your weakness, Candy.

493...

Do what he wants.

486...

After fastening the flower to his jacket, Hiram looked at me with a deep intensity that made me squirm.

“You look beautiful, Kitty,” he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes misted over, then, just as fast, his jaw clenched. His voice lowered into a menacing growl, “Don’t even think about doing anything stupid.”

472...

Suddenly, a conversation I had with Crystal years before came to mind. After a night working at one of Hiram’s parties, she’d returned with a black eye and busted lip. During that period, bloodlust ruled my senses. I couldn’t understand why she hadn’t fought back. Sure, she was petite. But Crystal had grown up on the streets, and the crazy bitch could fight like a wildcat.

“Candy,”she’d said after I demanded to know why she didn’t defend herself,“you have to pick your battles. If he thinks he’s won, then he won’t see it coming next time.”

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