A Mayhem Wedding (The Knights of Mayhem Book 6)

by Brook Greene

  “Maybe. I’ve never really thought about it. I’ve offered to help but she shrugs me off.”

  She smiles and pats my arm. “I’ll find out if there’s anything, okay?” She sits back down, just as Hollis comes down the steps and into the kitchen.

  Now I feel like a damned idiot, and I know it’s only my stupid insecurities making me see something that really isn’t there. She comes to a stop by my side, taking up the mug of coffee I’d poured for her. I lean in, kissing her temple, as Emily studies us both.

  “Morning,” Hollis greets Emily before taking a sip of her coffee. Noticing the tense air between us, Hollis looks to me, and then back to Emily. “What’s going on?”

  Emily stands. “Oh, nothing. Let’s go get this done.” She turns for the door.

  Hollis kisses me. “Bye, love.” She smiles at me before exiting fast on Emily’s heels. I watch her go, letting out a long breath, hoping against hope I’m not losing her again because I don’t think I could live through it this time. I run my hand through my hair, making my way back up to our room, worries weighing heavy on my mind and tension weighing down on my shoulders.

  Chapter Two

  Hollis

  “So, is everything okay with you?” Emily asks as we pull into the parking space in front of the lawyer’s office. We sit there with the engine running, silent, just looking at each other. I know there’s no way I can hide anything from her probing eyes. She’s already seen the hesitation I know is written all over my face.

  “Did Roman put you up to this?” I ask with a hint of aggravation in my tone.

  “No. I offered after he voiced his concerns about your mood the past couple of weeks.” She shifts in her seat to face me. “Is there something going on he needs to know about?”

  I wave my hand through the air, trying my best to conceal my worry with nonchalance. “No, Emily, he has it in his head there is, but there isn’t. I’m just a little overwhelmed with all the wedding planning and stuff, that’s all.” Lying to a friend is bad, but lying to Emily is like having to choke down a spoonful of dog shit. I’m going to have to do better at covering up my misgivings and fears. It isn’t something the people around me need to concern themselves with. It’s all mine and I can deal with it. I’ve dealt with it my whole life, and this time isn’t any different than any other time.

  Emily, being who she is, and the things she’s lived through because of me, takes my words at what they are and leaves it for another time. “If and when you want to talk, talk to somebody. Don’t let, whatever in the hell is obviously pulling you apart, fuck up what you have with Roman. You’ll regret it.”

  I could never voice my worries because that might give them a chance to come true, at least that’s what I have my sick little mind convinced of. I know the feelings I have are ridiculous and completely unfounded because I’ve never been given one reason to feel this way. For the past few weeks, a hole has started to form in the middle of my chest, and it has nothing to do with Roman.

  The whirlwind blowing through my body all stems from my childhood and the complete betrayal of the one woman who I thought I could trust. Even though she’d died years ago, the actions that took her life over a man were a slap in the face to me, her daughter.

  I keep saying it’s nothing when asked, but if I had to tell myself the truth, it’s bothering me now more than I would like to admit. And it’s like she’s haunting me, making me fear the happiness I have with Roman is going to be taken away.

  Emily clears her throat, interrupting my thoughts, and I realize there’s been a prolonged silence between us. I blink a few times, getting my thoughts and emotions back in check before I turn to her.

  Her features soften when she sees I’m not going to tell her anything, so she reaches her hand out, laying it on my forearm. “I’m here if you need me. I’ll listen and never judge you for the things you’re going through.” She doesn’t remove her hand when she finishes, and I don’t want her to. The feel of her comforting touch is easing the battle going on in my head, and I fight the tears of stress and pain. It would be so easy to tell her, and to hear her tell me I’m being ridiculous.

  I cover her hand with mine, giving her a smile. “I know, and thank you, but there really isn’t anything to bother with.” I turn toward the door and exit her vehicle, wanting away from all these feelings. I turn to Emily, who hasn’t moved yet. “Let’s get this done. We have a big afternoon.” I slam the door, blowing out a breath as I head for the office.

  ~~~~~~

  It didn’t take long for us to clean the office, and nothing more was said about the way I’ve been acting or what’s bothering me. Which is good because it kept my mind off of it, if only for a little while.

  I stand at the counter in our kitchen, making things to take to the cookout at Emily and Cowboy’s later, when I feel him come up behind me. He lays his hands on my hips, digging his fingers into the soft skin. His chest is against my back and his lips are at my ear. “Hey, baby,” he whispers, his hot breath rushing across my skin, making me warm at the simple sentiment. I dry my hands on a towel and turn to him, snaking my arms around his neck as I lay my head against his chest.

  The action almost brings me to tears, along with his level of caring he displays toward me. His arms tighten around me, and I know he feels how I tense. “Tell me, baby, please?” His tone begs me to unload my shit on him. “Is it me, us?”

  I shake my head no against him, swiping at a rogue tear that’s sneaked out of my eye. He takes me by the shoulders and tilts me back. “You gotta tell me. Otherwise, I can’t fix it.”

  I cover his hands on my shoulders with mine. “You can’t fix everything, Roman.” I look up into his crystal blue eyes and they break my heart. The uncertainty I find in them is all my fault, and it makes what I’m carrying all the more painful. This man has gone out of his way and has done more for me than any other person I have ever had in my life.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “We don’t know until you tell me what it is.” He drops his hands from me, seeing my hesitation. Leaning his body against the island, he casts his eyes down. “Hollis, don’t do this to us.”

  I step to him, cupping his downturned face in my hands, lifting it so I can see his sad eyes. “It’s not you, Roman, it never has been. It’s all me and the things in my head.”

  His big hands surround my head. “Then let me have it, let me help you carry it. Please?”

  I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to form the words I want to say in my head. “It’s stupid.”

  “No, it’s not. Nothing you feel is stupid.” He rests his forehead against mine, then kisses me before releasing my head. He pulls out one of the barstools and pats it.

  He says it’s nothing now.

  “You sit and I’ll pour.” He crosses to the small wine cooler I have nestled in between the counter and the fridge. He shows me a bottle. “Red?”

  I smile at him and his efforts at trying to lighten the air around us. “Always.” After he pours me a glass of wine and gets himself three fingers of bourbon, he sits beside me, scooting my stool closer to him.

  His big legs surround mine and he cradles my face in his hands, lifting it so that I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “Tell me.”

  “You’re not gonna like it.” I try to drop my head, but his firm grip doesn’t allow me to.

  His shoulders slump. “Is it about the wedding? ’Cause if it is, baby, there’s no pressure.” The docile look on his face breaks my heart, and the knowledge of the lengths this man will go to for me has me wanting to forget everything that’s been weighing me down the past couple of weeks.

  “No,” I say quickly, then sigh. “Well, kinda.”

  “Whatever it is, we can fix it, or do something about it.” He tries his best to assure me.

  “I want you to find my father—my birth father,” I blurt out, taking myself, right along with Roman, off guard. “I mean, I want to know why he didn’t want me.” I take a big sip of wine a
nd almost choke at the expression on Roman’s face. “See? I told you it’s stupid.”

  He takes a slow drag from his tumbler before setting it down on the bar. I lay my hand on his thigh, wondering what he’s thinking. He looks up at me, seeming a bit confused. “Can I ask why?”

  I look down at my nervously swinging foot. “I just want to know who he is.”

  “And this is all coming from where?” His confusion is being marred by something that looks a lot like anger.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the wedding, us getting married. I really don’t have any family, no father to walk me down the aisle, no sister to be my maid of honor.” I pause, taking another big sip of my wine. “Or a mother to fuss over me or help me plan.”

  He stands up, pushing off the stool so hard, I have to quickly reach to catch it to keep it from falling to the floor. “Now you’re mad.”

  He spins around. “No, I’m not mad, Hollis, I’m fucking confused as hell.” I watch him pace back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck. I bite my lip to keep my mouth shut because I’m sure me speaking would only make this whole shitstorm worse. He stops intermittingly to look at me before he begins pacing again.

  I heave another sigh at him and stand, no longer able to keep my mouth shut about this. “What is it? What the hell are you thinking so hard about? You asked and I told you what’s been bothering me, and now you’re acting like I just told you I don’t want to get married at all.” I throw my hands up in the air.

  This brings him to an abrupt stop. His cool blue eyes make my skin goose flesh as he levels them at me. He rounds the island and comes to a stop, standing toe-to-toe with me. When he looks down, his eyes cut me, almost making me shy away from him out of fear. He roughly takes my arms, looking like he’s resisting the urge to shake me, but he doesn’t.

  “You have a family, Hollis.” His voice is low and controlled. “Hugh and Kent are probably the best two fathers any girl could’ve hand-picked for themselves. And Ima loves you like she was the one who gave birth to you.” He stops, squeezing my arms for emphasis. “The girls love you, and that’s something I thought would never happen.” He drops his hands from me and takes a step back. “And the boys would die for you. It don’t get much more family than that.” The more he talks, the more his face twists into a sneer.

  The accusations that I don’t appreciate the family I’ve come to love over the past months, has the anger I’m not used to rise up inside of me. I step into the space between us, balling my fists at my sides to keep my hands from shaking. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I love every single person I’m blessed to have in my life. How dare you accuse me of not being grateful for what they’ve done for me?”

  He throws his hands in the air. “Oh, I don’t have a mother to fuss over me and help me plan,” he says in a condescending tone. Now he’s just pissing me off. I lunge, pushing his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

  “You’re being an asshole,” I say through gritted teeth.

  He takes my wrists and holds them tight. “What if we find him and he’s a druggie, Hollis? Are you going to offer him a room in our home?”

  “Why does your mind automatically go to him being a druggie?”

  “Uh, hello, have you forgotten I knew your mother and you?” I try to pull loose from him, but his strength is so much greater than mine, and my struggle against it is useless. I never thought I would feel hatred toward Roman, but in this moment, I could claw his eyeballs out. “I don’t want you around that ever again, and I will do everything in my power to keep it away from you.”

  “Thank you for the vote of fucking confidence, Roman. You, more than anyone, knows I’m not that girl anymore. Have the past months not proved that to you?” I scream, trying my best not to let the hurt from his words show on my face.

  He pulls me to him by my wrists, getting down into my face. “Once an addict, always an addict, even if you’re not using, Hollis. I’m a DEA agent and I’ve seen it all. How many people do you think I’ve seen promise to stay clean, only to fall right back into the lifestyle when life gets hard or doesn’t go the way they want it to? Too many to count, and none I want to think about because most of them are so strung out right now, they don’t know their own name and the rest are dead. That’s not what I want for you.” He flings my wrists away from him, effectively pushing me away. “Just the thought of it…” He goes quiet, but I’m nowhere near done with him.

  “You’re getting pissed at me and saying things you have no way of knowing will ever happen. And yes, my mother had a type and I learned that from her. But I have so much more to lose now than I ever have in my life. And if you think I would give up what you’ve given me because I’m weak, then fuck you, Roman. You’re the weak one for not having more faith in the woman you want to be your wife.”

  I turn on my heel, leaving him standing in our kitchen. I run up the steps to our room, choking back the sobs forcing their way out of me. My chest aches as the words he’d spewed replay in my head. I slam our bedroom door behind me, locking it, and turn, resting my back against it. The man I share a home with and love with all my being doesn’t know me at all. He obviously never has.

  I’ve seen the angry side of Roman, and I have on more than one occasion been on the receiving end of his hateful words, but this time it’s different. The things he’d said cut me deeper than anything else he could’ve said. He had, in not so many words, called me a fucking junkie. I haven’t used in years, I’ve not wanted to, and I never want to again. I’m certain about that, which at this point is the only thing I’m sure of.

  I lay down on our unmade bed, wrapping myself up in the covers that hold the scent of the love we make. Burying my face in my pillow, I finally allow the tears to spill free and know it will be a while before they stop.

  A faint knock at the door echoes through the emptiness of the room. “Hollis?”

  “Go away, Roman,” I yell at him, my words muffled by my pillow.

  I hear a thump against the door, and know he’s let his head fall against it. “Hollis, please?” His voice doesn’t hold any of the anger it had only moments ago, but I’m still burning with my hurt and fury.

  I jerk up to face the door, which I had thankfully locked. “Get the fuck away from the door and me. I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say. I think you’ve said enough.” I throw myself back into my little cocoon of self-loathing.

  I don’t hear anything else from the hall except the echo of the front door slamming, as Roman does as I’d asked and leaves me the fuck alone in our home. Alone with the pain he’d offered up and then tried to take back, but once he’d given it to me, I could never return it. It was mine forever.

  ~~~~~~

  Roman

  I sit in my truck just staring at our house, not knowing what had come over me or how to undo what I’d just done. The words I’d said to her in the heat of anger were inexcusable. I’d all but called her a junkie and thrown all the hard work she’s done to stay clean in her face. And the truth she’d said to me about having faith in her cut me to the bone. Because the way I’d acted was the way I had a little over a year ago, when she’d called me, needing me. I’d practically spit in her face. Slapping her would have done less damage than my words.

  I look down at myself, and all I have on are flip flops from the hall closet and a pair of gym shorts. I’m thankful the weather is accommodating to my attire, but the bright afternoon sun does nothing to warm my cold heart. I’m owed this misery for what I’d just put that wonderful woman through. At this moment, I’m no better than Markus had been to her.

  She didn’t deserve my anger; she was simply doing what I’d practically begged her to do. I acted like a fucking asshole when she told me something I didn’t want to hear. I’ve just ruined any chance of getting her to trust me with her thoughts and worries again. I start the truck and aim it in the direction of Dalton and Piper’s. I’ll get clothes and a shit ton of grief there.

  ~~~~~~

>   I sit at the dining table in the posh home I’d given to my sister and Dalton. She’d kept most of our mother’s things, but she’d also put her own spin into the mix of overdone decorations. I let my eyes drift around the room, the slight nag of Piper’s voice, the soundtrack in my little blast from the past moment. She was rambling on about how I’d been more of an ass than usual, so in other words, telling me things I already knew.

  I’d made the mistake of unloading my fuck up on her when she’d asked why I needed clothes. I’d hoped Dalton would be home alone, but just as my day has been going, I wasn’t that fucking lucky.

  “What the fuck were you thinking, Roman?” Piper shrieks at me, jerking me back to the hell of the moment. “Huh? You were the one who pressed her to tell you.” Piper paced along the wall of windows that looked out over the large pool in the back yard. The sun shined through them, lighting the room, but not warming it.

  I rest my elbows on the table, cradling my head in my hands. As Piper continues to assault me with her vulgar-filled, shrill voice. I chuckle at the thought that only a year ago, we were having to hold Piper back from beating the shit out of Hollis, and now she’s cussing me up one side and down the other for my actions. The saying is true; they travel in packs.

  Finally I’ve heard enough and hold my hands out. “Piper, stop. Don’t you think I know I’ve fucked up?” Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms over her chest, giving me an ‘eat shit’ look. “I do, and I don’t need for you tell me how bad I’ve messed this up.”

  She begins to tap her foot, shooting daggers at me with her eyes. “So what are you gonna do about it?” Her tone is sharp and has no feeling in it whatsoever. Hell, an outsider would never know she and I were brother and sister, and for the most part, close.

  I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I resign myself to the fact that I have to do something to make this right. It will be a hard and painful road to travel for me because I want to keep Hollis all to myself. And if, and that’s a big fucking if, I do find her father and he’s what I’m afraid he will be, it will take everything in me not to kill him just to keep him away from her.