Hard Ever After

  McAdams greeted the whole wedding party, then Sonya gave him a general tour of the outdoor space where the ceremony would take place. They’d process up the brick-­lined courtyard between chairs that were already set up for them, and the ceremony itself would take place on a raised brick patio against the backdrop of the rear of the gorgeous Carroll Mansion. A plain wide wooden arch stood there now. Tomorrow it would be decorated with flowers.

  As Sonya, McAdams, and Becca spoke, Nick couldn’t help but be on the alert. His eyes and ears were wide open, despite the fact that things were quiet. Exactly as they should be. And he wasn’t the only one. Every one of his teammates had their game faces on. Nick was fucking glad.

  “Okay, now that I have the lay of the land,” McAdams said, “I’d like to go over what you all indicated you wanted for the ceremony. Then we’ll walk through it as a group, and I’ll show you where to walk and stand, all that sort of thing. And then we’ll do an actual dry run, music and all if you have it.”

  “I have it on my phone,” Becca said.

  “That’ll work,” McAdams said. For a few moments, they discussed vows, wording for various parts of the ceremony, who was holding the rings, and how they wanted him to introduce them to the audience when the ceremony was complete. “Okay, let’s walk through it all. Anyone should feel free to interrupt this time with questions or suggestions. In fact, now is the main time to ask questions,” he said. “Becca, where do you want to start the procession from?”

  Sonya stepped forward. “If I might make a suggestion,” she said, guiding them back into the first floor of the inn. In the back corner, there were three doors. “There are two private party rooms here we’ve set up for the bridal party to use before the ceremony.” She let them into one and turned on the lights. The rectangular room had a long table that seated eight in the center, with old-­fashioned leather armchairs clustered in groupings along one wall. A floor-­to-­ceiling mirror hung at the far end of the room. “Both rooms are identical. These usually work nicely to allow for last-­minute preparations, privacy if the bride doesn’t want to be seen by the groom beforehand, and staging for the ceremony itself.”

  “Yes, that’s what we’d discussed. I don’t want him to see me until I’m walking down the aisle,” Becca said, smiling at him. Nick couldn’t fucking wait. “So then we’d be processing from inside?”

  “That’s right,” Sonya said, leading them back out to the main room. “The groomsmen will join Nick at the dais ahead of time. We’ll keep these doors shut until it’s time for the women to walk. When the music changes, we’ll open the doors and the bridesmaids will go one by one. And then the music will change again to whatever song Becca has chosen to walk to, and she’ll proceed as well. Is someone walking you down the aisle, Becca?”

  “Oh.” Without hesitation, she turned to Charlie. “Will you? Please?”

  Her brother’s face filled with emotion. “Yeah. Of course.”

  Becca pressed a kiss to Charlie’s face. “Thank you. I’m sorry that in all the craziness I didn’t think of this sooner.” He shook his head, clearly moved by her request.

  “Very good,” McAdams said. “Let’s head outside to see how we’ll arrange things at the dais.”

  As they walked the length of the courtyard, Sonya said, “Remember not to walk too fast, bridesmaids. It’s longer than usual, so everyone always wants to run up the aisle.” The women all laughed. When they got to the raised brick porch, Sonya directed each of them to where they should stand for the ceremony itself.

  After that, McAdams sped them through the words so they knew what would happen. And then Sonya was guiding them back down the aisle again to show them where to stand for the reception line they were going to form before returning to the porch for group pictures.

  This all seemed pretty basic to Nick, and frankly he was a little impatient with it. But that was just the broader situation talking. He tried to block it out as much as he could, especially since Becca seemed to be enjoying herself. And given what they were yet to face at dinner, he didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.

  “Okay, let’s do a full run-­through,” McAdams said. “Gentlemen, except Charlie, come with me.”

  Nick frowned and turned to Becca.

  She smiled and winked. “Go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “You’re already the prettiest bride there ever was.”

  “Aw, sweet man. I don’t care what anyone says, I’m going to run up this aisle to you,” she said as he headed for the door.

  “I won’t object to that at all,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the mansion.

  And then Sonya guided the women back inside and closed the doors behind them.

  Chapter Eleven

  “THIS IS SO exciting, Becca,” Sara said, looking around at the elegant room. “This place is so gorgeous.”

  “I know. I fell in love immediately,” Becca said. The beautiful summer night, the sweet fragrance of the garden flowers, the ambiance provided by the historic architecture. Tomorrow was going to be amazing.

  Assuming it happened.

  No, it was happening. Becca just had to believe it.

  “Becca,” Sonya said. “If you have your phone, I can hook it up to the sound system so it plays in the courtyard. Just show me what songs you want.”

  Becca opened her wedding playlist. “This is the music that can play while ­people are being seated,” Becca said, pointing to a list of songs. “This one is for the bridesmaids’ procession, and this one is for mine.”

  “Very good.” Sonya hooked up the phone. Classical music immediately filtered in from outside. Sonya had Becca line the women up in the order in which she wanted them to march, and the music changed for the bridesmaids. “And now we’re marching,” Sonya said as she opened the doors. The warm twilight air spilled in. White lights twinkled in the trees and on lines strung across the courtyard. It was magical.

  One by one, the women walked out the doors. Jenna, Sara, Emilie, then Kat. And then it was just Becca and Charlie left to walk down the aisle. She turned to him. “I’m so lucky to have you as my brother, Charlie. I just want you to know how grateful I am that all of this has brought us closer again.” Next to finding Nick, that was one of the brightest silver linings in everything that had happened.

  He gave her a small smile. “I feel the same exact way,” he said.

  “Okay,” Sonya said from beside the doors. “Now I’ll change to the wedding march, and it’ll be your turn.”

  “Shut the fucking door,” came a deep voice from behind them.

  Becca whirled. She recognized the voice immediately. Woodson. For real this time.

  “Who are you, sir?” Sonya asked. “You can’t be in here.”

  He brandished a gun directly at her. “I said, shut the fucking door. Now.”

  As the blood drained from her face, Sonya hastily pushed the doors closed.

  Becca fumbled for her purse, but the decorative metal clasp stuck.

  “Don’t move, Becca. Don’t even fucking breathe. In fact, toss that bag down. Now.” Woodson stalked closer.

  Which was when Becca realized he’d lost a lot of weight since she’d seen him two months ago. His eyes and face had the sunken, haggard look of an addict. He’d let his hair grow back in, too. He was no longer bald. “It was you. On the street the other night.”

  “Told you I was gonna show you. And when I found out about your wedding, I thought, what better time. Was gonna wait ’til tomorrow. Do it up right for the big crowd. But I figure, I got you now for sure.”

  Charlie moved just the smallest amount to angle himself in front of her, and Woodson tracked the movement like a hawk. He trained his weapon at Charlie’s head and arched an eyebrow. “Get down on the floor,” he ordered Becca’s brother. “You, too.” He glared at Sonya, who rushed to compl
y. Charlie sank down more slowly, and Becca could feel the anger and frustration rolling off of him.

  Becca needed to distract Woodson from whatever he planned to do. Delay him, at the very least. At some point Nick was going to realize something was wrong—­she had faith in that into her very bones. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. So she just had to hold on for a short while.

  “I told you to drop the bag. Do it now,” Woodson barked out, punctuating his words by jabbing the gun at the air.

  Her belly sinking, Becca dropped the purse next to her feet.

  Woodson gave her a droll stare. “Don’t fucking play me. Kick it away.”

  She did, a little of her hope going with it as it slid across the hardwood floor. “How did you know about my wedding?” she asked, wanting to keep him talking.

  “Yeah, that was some lucky shit, wasn’t it? For me, anyway.” He stalked closer, slowly, like he was paranoid despite the fact that he was the one with the weapon. “Little sister of a Churchman who was killed works in housekeeping at the hospital. Guess someone left an invitation out in the staff break room.”

  “So she’s how you got the stuffed animal in to me,” she said, her voice shaky. She hadn’t been freaking out for nothing after all. Woodson really had been lurking around the edges of her life. For how long she wasn’t sure. But what a lesson to trust her instincts.

  His grin was sadistic and cruel. “Enjoyed my little calling card, did ya?” He didn’t give her the chance to answer, because as soon as he was close enough, he roughly grabbed her arm and tugged her against him. He spun her so her back was to his front, then he dragged her away from Charlie’s reach. His forearm pressed savagely into her throat, choking her as she struggled to keep her heels under her. “Because of you,” he hissed into her ear, “I lost everything I had. And now you’re going to see how that feels, starting with him.”

  Woodson lifted the gun.

  Becca had to do some—­

  The syringe!

  In her rage and terror, it seemed to her that he moved in slow motion. And that she did, too. An eternity seemed to pass as he took aim and she reached into the pocket of her maxi dress. Uncapped the syringe. Jabbed it into Woodson’s thigh.

  The world froze for an eternity.

  Woodson shouted.

  The gun fired.

  She stumbled as he did, his arm still squeezing her throat.

  And then she was falling, falling backward with him, as the gun fired again.

  NICK WATCHED AS the women made their way up the aisle. When Kat got closer, she grinned and made a face at him, but then her gaze shifted to his left. To Beckett. And hell if the look his sister was giving his friend wasn’t how Becca sometimes looked at Nick. For as much as Nick had been thrown by Beckett’s interest in Kat, the two of them had proven to be damn good for each other.

  As Kat took her place, Nick searched for Becca. And found the doors to the first floor closed again. He frowned. Maybe it was to allow the bride to make a grand entrance once the wedding march began? Nick stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. Probably made him an asshole, but he really wanted this rehearsal to be over.

  He stared at the doors. The same music continued on. A prickle ran over his scalp. He looked to his teammates, standing at his left. But his gut had already decided. “I don’t like this.” No, more than that. “Something’s fucking wrong.”

  The men took off as a unit. “Kat, get everyone in the limo and keep them there,” Nick heard Beckett say. “Go.”

  Becca. Jesus Christ, Becca. Where are you?

  Nick full out sprinted down the courtyard. Two security guards spilled out from the gatehouse and filled in behind them.

  “Go around to the side and take the shot through a window if you have it,” Nick called. Easy and Marz broke off. Guns in hand, the remaining three slowed as they approached the doors. Curtains covered the glass, keeping Nick from seeing inside. In a quiet jog, they hugged the building as they got closer, then Nick used hand signals to communicate the plan. Him on one side, Beckett and Marz on the other. Beckett would force entry, Marz would provide sweeping cover and fire, and Nick would take out the target—­assuming he had a shot. There were three friendlies inside.

  It was the only way he could think of Becca as his brain shifted to ice-­cold operational mode.

  Gunfire. One shot. Then another.

  And it didn’t fucking sound like it had come from the exterior of the building. It had come from inside.

  No! Not Becca! Not my sunshine!

  With a violent kick, Beckett exploded open the doors. A scream from inside.

  Nick swept in to witness something he would never forget for the rest of his life. Becca on the floor on top of Woodson. She wrestled a gun away from him, then rose on stumbling, unsure feet, the gun trained right at the man’s head.

  Nick didn’t know whether to be terrified, proud, or completely fucking dumbfounded.

  Gun trained on Woodson, Nick slowly came around so he had a clear view of the man and of Becca’s face.

  “Becca, are you okay?” Nick asked, his heart a goddamned freight train in his chest. Seriously. The adrenaline coursing through him was strong enough to knock him off his feet, and as strong as the relief he felt at seeing Becca on hers. But she didn’t seem to hear him. “Becca.”

  “I should kill you,” she said, the tone of her voice something he’d never heard before. “I should.” Despite the shudders racking her body, she gripped the weapon stably, competently. Her finger sat on the trigger.

  Nick glanced to Woodson to find him unconscious, then all his focus narrowed in on her, even as his teammates moved around the room. Still vigilant, Nick moved closer. “Becca, it’s me. It’s over.”

  She shook her head. “I should,” she said again, her face crumpling.

  God, his heart was fucking breaking. “No, you shouldn’t. No matter how much he deserves it, you don’t want a death on your hands. Any death. You don’t want that. And I don’t want that for you.”

  Beckett moved around behind Becca, poised to disarm her if he needed to, but Nick gave a single shake of his head.

  Nick crouched to force himself closer to her line of sight. “Becca. Sunshine. Look at me.”

  Shattered blue eyes cut to him, but her gun remained trained on the unconscious man who’d wreaked such havoc on their lives. “Is . . . is Charlie . . .”

  “I’m okay,” Charlie said, sitting up against the wall by the door. “I’m okay, Becca.”

  Nick spared a quick glance to her brother. Okay, but hit in the shoulder. Shane was taping gauze to the wound from a kit open on the floor beside him. Jeremy was crouched on Charlie’s other side, his head against the guy’s good shoulder.

  “He’s okay?” she asked, like she wasn’t quite processing the information.

  “Yeah. Charlie’s okay. It’s all over.” Slowly, Nick reached out toward her, his hand gesturing for the gun. “You did so good, Becca. You took Woodson out. You saved Charlie. Let me take it from here.” The how of it all, Nick didn’t yet know, but there was no doubting that Becca had saved this fucking day.

  Nick’s hand fell on the barrel of the gun. Exerted pressure. Forced it down and away.

  Finally, she let it go.

  It was like the gun had been holding her up.

  Her legs went out beneath her. Beckett was right there and caught her as she sagged to the floor.

  Nick was to her in an instant. He handed the gun off to Beckett and took Becca into his arms.

  “Charlie,” she rasped.

  “He’s right here,” Nick said.

  She turned within his embrace, a tortured gasp spilling out of her when she saw her brother. Blood had soaked a crimson circle through the gauze.

  “It’s just a scratch,” Charlie said. “I’m fine.”

  Movement in the d
oorway. Chen and his team. “I got here as fast as I could,” Chen said. “Are you all okay?”

  Hell if Nick knew. “Can you stand?” he asked Becca. He wanted to get her out of there, away from Woodson.

  “Yeah,” she said as he helped her up. She needed the help. Adrenaline had her shaking like she was freezing, and her teeth were chattering.

  Nick shrugged out of his suit coat and wrapped it around her.

  “What’s that?” Chen asked, pointing at the floor by Woodson’s leg.

  A syringe.

  “Diazepam,” Becca said in a weak voice.

  “Smart,” Chen said in that deadpan way he had.

  Not smart. Fucking brilliant. When had she done that?

  As they watched, one of Chen’s men cuffed Woodson’s hands.

  “Can we go home?” Becca asked, her voice taking on a flat, odd quality. “I just want to go home.”

  His arm around her, Nick pulled her in against his chest and stroked her hair. He looked to Shane and Charlie.

  “He needs stitches, but not surgery. Went clean through the meat above his collarbone,” Shane said.

  “Can you fix it up at home?” Charlie asked Shane.

  Shane pressed his lips into a tight line. “The job will be neater and less painful if we take you to the hospital.”

  Shaking his head, Charlie looked from Shane to Nick. “I don’t care about that. I want to take Becca home.”

  “Your call,” Nick said to his best friend.

  “Okay,” Shane said after a moment. “Let’s get you up.” He and Jeremy both helped Charlie stand.

  “He was gonna kill all of you. That was his plan,” Becca said out of nowhere.

  Chen’s gaze swung to Becca, as did several of the other men’s. “Did he tell you how he knew to come here?”

  “Just that someone in housekeeping at the hospital found one of our wedding invitations and gave it to him,” Becca said. Well, that answered some questions right there.

  “He came from the basement,” Sonya said from where she hovered with her security team at the door.