Page 46 of Theirs

***

The venue is the most over the top place I’ve ever seen.

Which means the family of the bride must be loaded. Possibly more loaded than my parents. Mac told me that the bride comes from a family of high-end hotel ownership, and the groom’s family was the inventor of some product that most people use on a daily basis. I had zoned out, too distracted by the double spiral staircase in the entry, and the two-story library to the right of us.

I allow Mac to walk me through the venue and try to pay attention as he escorts me to the room that will hold the ceremony. We take our seats and Mac greets a few of the guests that he knows.

“So how do you know the bride?” I ask, vaguely remembering him telling me that he didn’t know much about the groom.

“We uh,” Mac says, pulling at his collar. The first time I’ve seen him struggle for words. “We dated for a short while. A very short while.”

I whip my head to him, feeling angry that he brought me as a guest to his ex’s wedding. “Mac! What the hell?”

He squeezes my hand and whispers. “Behave, Kitten. You are mine, and I am yours. It was a long time ago that the bride and I dated.”

I can’t say anything else, because the music begins then. I try to pull my hand out of Mac’s, but he squeezes it and won’t let go. The bridal party filters into the room, followed by a lovely blonde in a gorgeous white dress being escorted in by her father. She doesn’t look at anyone in the room, just keeps her eyes on the man waiting for her at the end of the aisle, tears in his eyes.

The woman doesn’t have a visible tattoo or piercing to be seen. Her tan skin is flawless, her makeup perfect, even though some tears fall from her eyes. She’s the opposite from me. As she passes, I notice how petite she is, shorter than me, even in her heels. I stand almost as tall as Mac and the rest of my guys. I wonder what it is about me that Mac actually likes. He must notice me questioning our relationship because he snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me to him.

“Darling, stop that pretty little head of yours from trying to push me away,” he whispers. “You’ve got four men who think the world of you.”

I glance up at him, and try to fake my best smile, but I feel my lips shake. He holds me closer and presses a kiss to the side of my head.

“One day you’ll believe us,” he promises. “One day you’ll allow us to all love you.”

Love? I think. Impossible. Four men can’t love me at the same time, they can’t all want me for more than what I let them do to me in the bedroom. It’s not possible. However, I glance at Mac as we take our seats, and instead of watching his ex getting ready to say her vows, he stares over at me, a smile on his lips. It’s possible, but it feels way too early to get comfortable with the idea.

***

“It was nice meeting you, Miss. Sullivan,” says a kind couple that Mac just introduced me to. We’re waiting for dinner to be served, enjoying some wine and hors d’oeuvres while greeting some of the guests that Mac knows.

So far, most of the people I’ve met have been kind. Their eyes linger on my body modifications, but no one gives me the stink eye. Mac proudly shows me around, but then I hear something that catches my attention while we’re outside of the reception hall admiring some artwork. My body goes rigid at the commotion.

“Mother, I don’t care if he’s the last man on the planet,” says a scared female voice. “You can’t make me marry him! I’m only sixteen, and he’s nearly thirty.”

“Gisele,” says a woman in the other room through clenched teeth. “You must allow him to court you. When you turn eighteen you will be marrying him, that’s the end of this conversation. Now be a good girl, and go speak to him. You should be so lucky for him to ask for your hand in marriage. Stop behaving like a spoiled brat, and go act like the woman I raised you to be.”

My body tightens with tension, my mind flashing back to the time that I was being forced into a marriage I didn’t want. I got out of it though, before he could sink his teeth into me with that contract, but not before he took my innocence without my permission. The second I turned eighteen, I ran and haven’t seen my parents since.

“Mama,” pleads the young girl. “Please, don’t make me do this. I want to choose my own husband. I want to fall in love.”

Her mother lets out a wicked laugh. “Dear, there’s no such thing as love. You marry someone who has the money to take care of you. You make him a happy husband, and he won’t send you to the curb.”

“I hate you,” says the girl, and my heart breaks for her. I stand stick straight as she walks out of the room and brushes past us, making a beeline for the restroom as tears stream from her eyes. Her mom never emerges from the room, wise choice, I would love to punch her in her face ‘on accident’ if she walked by me.

I turn around without thinking and start to go to the bathroom. The young girl needs someone, but I’m stopped by Mac’s hand on my wrist.

“They’re getting ready to seat us for dinner,” he says.

I nod. “I’ll meet you at the table Mr. MacKenna. Just need to go touch up my makeup.”

He reluctantly lets me go. “Be quick, Darling.”

I lift up my dress so I don’t trip on the hem as I make my way to the bathroom. I hear the girl’s muffled cries coming from behind a stall, I gently knock on the only closed stall in the bathroom and her cries pause.

“Leave me alone, Mom!” she says.

“Hi,” I say softly. “Not your mom. I heard what happened, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

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