Page 36 of Malicious Wedding

“Don’teverput yourself in danger like that again, okay? Please, Fulco. Promise me.” I stare at him, heart racing. That could’ve gone so much worse. Fulco’s probably lucky he’s still alive.

He nods, looking abashed.

“You’re in the wrong line of work,” Carson murmurs from his position near the door. “You should’ve joined my organization with courage like that.”

Which prompts everyone to realize he’s there.

“Well, hello, big man,” Keely says, her mouth falling open. I swear she’s salivating and steam’s bursting from her ears. I watch as every woman in the room instantly gapes, fawning like they’re in the presence of a movie star or something. It’s like their ovaries take over as their minds turn to mush.

It’s more than a little frustrating.

And I know exactly how they feel. Even now, Carson brings that out in me.

I stand between the horde of horny, traumatized ladies, and my gangster protector-slash-killer, hands on my hips. “Everyone, this is Carson Crowley. Carson, this is everyone.”

“Hi, Carson. I’ll be whoever you want me to be if you’ll take me home and make me forget this shitty day,” Keely says, beaming.

Carson coughs. “No. But thank you. Very kind.”

I glare at her. “Get it together.”

Jamila takes my arm, pulling me aside. “I know that name,” she hisses softly, glancing back at Carson. There’s panic in her expression.

Keely and Bernie join the huddle. Fulco remains where he is, drinking beer and glaring down at the bar like he wants to beat it up.

“I’d like to get to know that name,” Keely murmurs, still staring at Carson. I’m pretty sure she’s drooling now.

I elbow her ribs. “Stop looking at him like you’re going to dry hump his leg.”

“More than dry hump, hon.”

“Seriously,” Jamila presses. “The Crowley family. They’re, like, big shots. Is that guy really one of them?”

“Yes,” I admit. “Unfortunately.”

“From the look of that suit and that watch, I’d say he’s most certainly connected to something,” Bernie says, her eyebrows raised.

I snap my fingers to distract them. “Hey, everyone, focus up. Carson’s a friend, okay? He’s going to… he’s going to help this situation. Jams, can you tell me what the guys that came in here said?”

“They kept asking for you,” she mutters, looking frightened. “They threatened us. Didn’t steal anything, just… waved guns around and broke stuff. Ash, what’s going on? Are you in trouble?”

“Yes and no.” I chew on my lip. “Can you tell all that to Carson?”

“I will,” Keely offers helpfully.

I whack her arm. “No, Keely, I don’t trust you to play nice. Jams? Please?”

“Sure,” she says, smiling uncomfortably. “I’ll gladly go tell that stupidly hot, wildly rich Crowley guy over there what happened. It’ll be easy. I’ll form words. Make sentences. Speak good. Tell him story.”

“Jams, you’re going caveman,” Bernie says, sounding worried.

“Sorry. Hot man make dumb.” Jams rubs her face. “I fine. I mean, I’ll be fine. Fuck. Okay.” She takes a deep breath and marches over to Carson. I glance over as Jamila waves her arms all over the place like she’s a demented octopus. Carson stares at her, a bemused expression on his face.

Bernie squeezes my arm. “What are you gonna do, Ash?”

I look at Keely. Despite her salivating over Carson, I can see the fear in her eyes. I turn to Bernie, frowning at how pale she is, at the way her hand trembles. I glance at Fulco, the bandage on his forehead, his blood still splattered on the bar.

All of it my fault.

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