Burn

by Jc Emery

  “Nervous?” Ryan is standing beside me in the nicest things he owns. Ma made a point to buy us each a new pair of jeans. She said that we had to dress up a little. Not that either of us have minded. I’ve caught wind of the things Ryan has been saying to Alex. He wants to marry her, but she’s not ready yet. It’s a damn good thing my brother is as closed off with his emotions as he is. The desperation is all over his face. Sometimes, when I look at him, I have to stop and wonder if this is real. For so long, neither of us knew we could want this kind of commitment. Settling down isn’t something we ever talked about. Pop always said it was something we would just do, like it’s not that big of a deal. And now, standing here, waiting for my girl to come to me, I know he’s right. This whole wedding is all for show, to give Mindy something she doesn’t want to admit she needs. And I’ll always give her what she needs.

  “Only because I have to say a bunch of shit you fuckers will never let me live down in front of all these people.” I peek over my shoulder only to realize everybody is still here, much to my dismay. It was Mindy’s idea to get married in the field between Ma and Pop’s house and ours, but it’s just too wet outside, so we opted for doing it inside the house.

  “Proud of you, brother. Don’t think I ever told you, but your woman and I had words some months back. She’s good people. I have no doubt that crazy bitch is gonna protect your six.”

  BY THE TIME the music starts up, I’m wiping blood from my mouth and glaring at my brother, who’s pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the nose bleed. Good thing Ma put us in black jeans and black button-downs. The blood doesn’t show as well as it would if we’d been in white. Harry’s gonna love this when he sees it. As it is, Mindy’s mom, Claire, is in the front row with the most displeased expression on her face. She mumbles something to Holly’s mom that earns them both a severe look from Ma.

  My palms are sweating and my heart rate has spiked. Fuck, I’m really doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t have a clue what Mindy’s wearing, and the longer the music drags the fuck on, the more nervous I get about it. What if she looks like a doily? Or worse—what if she looks like a marshmallow? I’m a shit liar with her. I can’t stand here and tell her I like her dress if she looks like something out of one of those bad TV movies she likes to watch. Fuck. We should have eloped. The next time I decide to be a good guy, I’m going to remind myself of this moment.

  Fuck this shit.

  I catch Pop’s eyes from his seat in the front row. His eyes wrinkle in the corners, a big smile graces his face, and I swear to Christ, the fucker might have a tear or two in his eyes. Ma’s scowl has turned weepy as she lays her head on Pop’s shoulder and wipes her nose with a tissue. Shit. Now she’s crying, and from the looks of it in the small crowd, so are half the women here.

  “Look what you did,” Michael says and elbows me in my side. Blood or not, maybe I shouldn’t have put this asshole in my wedding party. Ma looks at us fondly and blows her nose.

  “This shit is getting sappy,” Ryan complains.

  “It’s a wedding. Show some respect,” Michael says quietly in warning. These two assholes won’t ever get along, I just know it.

  “I’ll show some respect,” Ryan says tauntingly. “I’ll show some respect when I’m plowing your sister later.”

  I rub my hand over my eyes to block them out. One normal day, just one normal fucking day is all I ask for, and my brothers can’t shut the fuck up long enough to give me that. They’re bickering but trying to keep it quiet. Even Ma’s getting pissed about it.

  Mindy’s bridesmaids walk down the aisle in simple black dresses sans human escorts because these two assholes next to me fought over who’d walk Alex down the aisle and Holly thought she would walk with Grady even though I didn’t put him on my list of groomsmen. If I included my patched brothers, every fucker we knew would be in the wedding party, so we went nontraditional in a few ways. Not that anyone should expect any different from us.

  Alex has PJ walking beside her with flowers tucked into the poor dog’s collar. Holly comes down the aisle next with Moose, the Doberman I got to replace Tegan. He also has flowers in his collar. I knew Mindy was going to work the dogs into the ceremony, but I didn’t realize she was going to subject them to looking like walking bouquets. Joey is going to need to get pictures of this so he knows what his highly bred killing machines are up to.

  The moment Mindy and Harry come into view from the hallway, the air whooshes from my chest. I don’t know if I’m not breathing or what, but I can’t get any air. Harry is wearing his dress uniform, which makes people laugh and snicker when they catch sight of him. The outlaw marries the cop’s daughter, and of course Daddy has to show up reminding everybody of which side of the law he stays on. Missy and Punk walk beside them, with Missy definitely being better behaved than her son. Punk stops at every person he sees to sniff their shoes and growl at the scents he doesn’t care for. As he’s grown, the differences in the lengths of his legs has become more pronounced, and he kind of hobbles. He’s one of the most pathetic-looking dogs I’ve ever seen, but he’s ours. I can’t wait until the fucker grows up a little more though. He chews on everything, but even still, I can’t imagine coming home and not having him in our house.

  Our guests may be watching Harry, but it’s Mindy I can’t take my eyes off of. Instead of wearing white, my girl has on a dark red dress that hugs her figure to about mid-thigh, leaving her creamy legs exposed. She joked last night in bed that she was going to be easy today—I just didn’t realize she meant easy access. Fuck yes.

  It seems we don’t have a bit of white in our wedding, which is fitting, I guess. I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky to have this woman in my life, let alone to somehow convince her to marry me.

  The ceremony is short and goes by in a blur. The dude marrying us is the same guy who delivered the eulogy at Chief’s funeral. I don’t know whose idea that was, but as long as this marriage is legally binding when we’re done, I don’t give a single fuck.

  “You’re fucking beautiful.” The words just rush out now that she’s in front of me. Harry gives me a sad smile and walks to his seat beside his wife. Mindy has heavy eye makeup and bright red lips. I’d kill for the honor of touching her even just once. Not that I haven’t killed for her already, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

  My girl, my strong, beautiful, crazy girl, stares at me with tears in her eyes. She holds them back and smiles ruefully.

  “You promised that you wouldn’t make me cry,” she says and clears her throat.

  “I lied,” I say and kiss her forehead. There’s gorgeous and then there’s Mindy Mercer. I don’t care how much I sound like a pussy right now. I’m whipped, and I like it this way. I didn’t know I could have something like this. I was resigned to being alone. It didn’t bother me. I just didn’t realize what I was missing out on.

  It’s time for me to say my vows. Until last night, I was going to go with the standard shit, but it didn’t sit right. Fuck. What the hell am I doing here?

  “I don’t like the traditional shit they wanted us to say, so I’m doing my own thing,” I say nervously.

  “We didn’t talk about this,” Mindy says, anxious. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t have anything prepared.”

  “Wing it. You’ll be fine.” She’s only partially amused by my response. I do catch her eyes darting to Holly in a panic, though. She could go with the traditional vows if she wants—it doesn’t matter.

  “Mindy, you told me once that nothing and nobody will stop you from loving me. I don’t know that I believed it at the time. I thought you’d come to your senses at some point. Sometimes I still wonder if I’m just too stoned to realize this isn’t actually happening.”

  Mindy’s mouth quirks up in a smile. I rarely get high anymore. I still drink occasionally but not too often. I won’t be the reason she relapses, and I won’t be a reminder of a time she would rather forget.

  “I used to worry that I
’d never find the words to tell you what your love and loyalty means to me, but then I remembered something my pop said to my ma when I was a kid. He told her he knew she’d never believe a word that came out of his mouth, so instead of trying to convince her that he was serious, he’s spent every day of their lives walking through fire for her. I know of no better way to tell you how serious I am about what we got.”

  I have to clear the knot in my throat to be able to finish. Rage, my grandfather, is in the back row, and even he’s looking a little emotional. His wife, Sylvia, died just a few years after I met them. Rage changed then, and I know he won’t ever be the same. As hard and ornery as he’s gotten, his heart is still as big as ever. He’s going to die with a hole in his heart where Sylvia once was. He gives me a nod that makes me feel proud. The man doesn’t give his approval very often, but when he does, he’s loyal to it as fuck. I’m distracted from Rage by Ma’s wailing in the front row. Even Pop’s face is a little red, though nobody’s going to call him on it. Not until he officially hands the gavel over to Wyatt anyway.

  “You’re stuck with me babe. I own your ass.” Shit. My eyes sting. I hate fall allergies. Ma needs to dust this place more often.

  Mindy lunges herself at me, totally ignoring the officiant’s comments that we’re not legally married yet. When he gets her to pull back, her red lipstick is smudged, and I just know it’s all over my face.

  “Ian promised me he wouldn’t make me cry today, and he didn’t tell me he wanted to make up his own vows, so bear with me. As usual, I have no idea what I’m doing.” The crowd laughs at her, but I don’t see anything humorous in this moment. I just see a tough-as-nails woman who, against all odds, fought to pull herself out of total darkness, and I’m fucking amazed, once again, that she’s stupid enough to settle for me.

  “I love you, Ian. I love every piece of you, even the ones you hate. I haven’t talked about it, but I chose this date because of something you taught me. You taught me that the pain can only win if we let it. You’re the only reason I’m here today. I thought my damage would kill me. It was swallowing me whole. Today marks the one-year anniversary of the worst day of my life.”

  “Babe,” I whisper. She doesn’t have to do this. Fuck, I don’t want her to do this.

  “I won’t let them take any more from me,” she says. Her voice shakes, but her perseverance humbles me. “Baby, you spend every day walking through fire for me, and I’ll spend every day showing you the beautiful light spots in your soul that you forget exists.”

  We’re married just moments later, but I’m barely paying attention. The only thing that matters is standing right in front of me, strong as fuck and more determined than ever to live. I didn’t know I could love her more than I did the day she agreed to marry me, but I do.

  I so fucking do.

  The End

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you first and foremost to my readers. Your excitement and loyalty amazes me. When I started the Bayonet Scars series, I knew where I was going with it, but I didn’t know how I would get there. Ian’s character was one that I knew was pivotal to the series story arc, but I didn’t consider giving him his own book until you spoke up and asked for it. On top of everything you’ve given me, you’ve now given me this as well. Getting to know Ian was a joy and I’m only sorry that his story can’t go on forever.

  Thank you to my publicist, Danielle Sanchez, for her never-ending patience. I’m so grateful to you for having my back and becoming such a great friend. To my mother, Cindy Emery, without whom I might not have the courage or endurance to keep going when nothing is working right—thank you for being the bossiest, pushiest bitch I’ve ever met. Never wonder where I get it from. To my sister, Brittany, for pampering me while I wrote this fucked-up little fairy tale. One day you might need that lecture on human corpse decompensation rates and variants according to climate. Say the word and I’ll bring the shovel!

  Thank you to a dear friend, Kaz Blonde, for being so generous with your time and thoughts. The Toffee Crisps don’t hurt, but what I really love is your snarky attitude. To Dawn Johnson who was unable to help with the execution of this book, but was no less valuable in its inception and development. Your fingerprints are all over this series. To Brenda Gonet for designing a gorgeous cover, once again, but also for so much more. You were the very first person to read my work and believe in my ability to publish it. To Amy Shearer for enduring so much book drama—again. I’d say next time will be different, but it won’t be. To Amanda Jones for always being so supportive and willing to pitch in when I need it. Just relax and keep on growing my niece, mmkay?

  Thank you to Michele Milburn, my amazing editor, for getting this thing done despite everything that stood in your way. You’re boss and I adore you. To my beta readers—thank you for sticking with me. I love you all! You’re ready for Crave now, right? To all my writing buddies, you’re freaking fantastic.

  And last, but not least, thank you to Charlie and Lola, my feline support system. You’re my favorite kind of jerks. Your cat tree is on its way. To anyone I forgot, I get my jerkiness from my cats. Blame them.

  Thank you.

  About the Author

  As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the bad-ass bikers, sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head. A San Francisco Bay Area native, JC has also called both Texas and Louisiana home.

  These days she rocks her flip flops year-round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate more beautiful. Her dream is to own her own Harley and she feels compelled to tell you that she is Team Peeta all the way. JC is the author of the Bayonet Scars series, the Ladder Company series, and the Men with Badges line.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  About the Author