by Teagan Kade
I’m tired, exhausted in more ways than one. I thought I’d be more upset, but it’s like I’ve come to accept it in a way.
Carrie offers to come home, but I’ve got my mother, happy to tuck into her like a baby bird on the way home and cry for the first time in years.
I got out of there as fast as I could, ignored Nolan’s family entirely, poor Alissa’s platitudes, but I just had to go, to get away.
So, it’s done.
Stood up on my wedding day and not a damn way to pretend it didn’t happen.
There’s nothing else to do but forget Nolan and move on—painful as it might be.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NOLAN
Rainbows, I realize. Why the hell am I seeing rainbows?
I lick at my lip. It feels fat and heavy, like a slug attached to my face. There’s grit in my mouth, something hard between my teeth.
And the world is sideways. Why is the world sideways?
I push two hands down and lift myself from the ground, immediately regretting it when a wave of hot pain washes over the side of my head all the way down to my neck and shoulders.
The hell?
I do my best to take in my surroundings.
I’m in a tunnel that runs from the Academy parking lot to the street adjacent The Turtle. Someone’s drawn in rainbow chalk on the ground— ‘Vegan: A crazy idea that animals shouldn’t suffer’. There’s a ribbon of blood running through it. I trace it along the ground, up my leg and realize it’s dripping from my head.
I grunt as I stand, the world swimming back and forth out of focus. When I reach for my head my hand comes away wet with blood.
I do my best to replay what happened.
I finished practice, got dressed for the wedding…
Shit. The wedding.
I drop to my knees, the pain suddenly twice as intense. I want to sleep.
“Hey, buddy, you okay?”
Someone’s got me under the arm, crouching beside me. He’s wearing glasses like Harry Potter, doesn’t appear to be anyone I know.
“That’s a nasty bump you’ve got there, my friend. What happened?”
“I…don’t know,” I tell him, words thick and syrupy in my mouth. “I was walking through here and then…” The urge to sleep is overwhelming.
“Let’s get you to a hospital, hey?”
The world starts to swim between black and white. Panic fills my head. I’m searching around with my hands, half slumping back to the ground when I notice someone else arriving, a woman.
She’s trying to talk to me, says something about being a nurse.
But she’s not wearing a uniform, I think to myself.
I can’t seem to keep track of time, feel numb and limp when the two strangers help me towards what looks like a cab. They tell the driver to take me to the hospital, but it’s like the conversation is under water, completely distant. There’s an argument of some kind, the driver talking about the blood.
I pass out before I hear more.
*
“Can you hear me?”
Someone’s shining a light into my eyes and it’s really irritating.
I try to swat it away. “Yeah, I hear you just fine.”
“You’re in hospital, Mr. King. You’ve taken a nasty hit to head. Do you understand me?”
I nod, but it feels like my head wants to fall off my shoulders.
I reach up and note the bandage in place, take in the hospital room.
The doctor is young. He points to the table beside me. “We’ve placed your belongings right there, including your cell if you’d like to call anyone.”
“Thanks,” I reply, mouth dry.
“I’ll be back shortly to run some tests. For now, just rest, okay?”
I reach for my cell when he’s gone, dialing Peyton.
He answers. “Fuckwad, where the hell have you been? You do know you were getting married today, right?”
“I’m in the hospital.”
His tone hardens. “What? What happened?”
Good question. “I wrapped practice, showered, got dressed… I was coming to the wedding… I guess someone attacked me from behind in the tunnel, I think, maybe hit me? Fuck, I don’t know. It’s unclear.”
“You okay?”
“My head feels like a fucking cantaloupe, but yeah, I’ll survive.”
“I’ve seen you checked by a freight train before. You’ll be fine.”
I hear Phoenix in the background asking where I am, Peyton lifting the phone away from his ear to fill him in.
“Is Linnea there?” I ask. I don’t know why I didn’t call her first.
“No, but we can find out where she is, bring her down.”
“I should call her.”
“I…don’t think that’s a good idea, bro. Let me sweet talk her a bit first, yeah? She’ll understand.”
I’m too tired to argue. “Thanks.”
“You need us to bring anything? Reading material, liquor, someone’s head?”
Even smiling hurts. “We’ll talk when you get here.”
“Try to stay conscious.”
“I’ll do my best,” I reply.
Linnea is the first through the door twenty minutes later. She looks distraught, hand over her mouth.
“That bad, huh?”
She comes to the side of the bed, takes my hand. “No, no, just a shock.”
Peyton and Phoenix enter behind her, standing back while we talk. I expect to see Titus until I remember he flew out this morning.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it,” I tell her. “Really.”
She shakes her head. “No, I am sorry, for assuming the worst.”
“You really thought I’d do that to you? I can be a real asshole, I know, but…”
“You can make it up to me.”
“Hey, if you two are going to get it on we’re out of here,” says Phoenix, pointing between himself and Peyton.
“You didn’t have to come,” I tell them.
They approach the bed behind Linnea, Peyton speaking, “And miss out on seeing you lie there looking like an Egyptian mummy? Fuck yes we had to.”
Linnea’s not in a joking mood. “They said someone attacked you. Did you see who it was?”
I blink, a sudden jolt of pain pressing me forward from the pillow. “No. They hit me from behind, with something long and hard, I think.”
Phoenix sniggers, collapsing against Peyton. “Oh, man, wait until we tell your team you were attacked by a flying dildo.”
I give him the finger. “Keep that up and you will be the one in this hospital bed.”
“Bro, you’ve never been able to take me. Besides, it’s two on one.”
Linnea smiles at me. “Two on two, actually.”
Peyton laughs, nudging Phoenix. “Pretty sure Linnea could kick your ass, man.”
“Probably,” he concedes. “What is it about all these King women being so damn tough and gnarly?”
“I guess they’re just attracted to the cream of the crop,” I reply, watching Linnea and wishing I wasn’t in bed, with a head injury…and an audience.
Still, she seems certain to get to the bottom of what happened. “Are you sure you didn’t see who it was that attacked you?”
“No, sorry.”
“It has to be Rex or one of his goons,” Peyton pipes in. “Who the hell else would it be?” He nods to my wallet next to my phone, a couple of bills clearly sticking out. “They didn’t take that, did they?”
It’s a solid point, which only further confirms Rex’s involvement. I recall the incident in the locker room prior. He had motive, too. He doesn’t want me to marry Linnea. I should be thankful I’m not dead.
“All I remember is the pain and then waking up to Harry Potter.”
My brothers look at each other in confusion.
“You sure you’re all there, man?” asks Phoenix.
I wave my hand around trying to explain it. “No, like… The dude who helped me, he was wearing… S
hit, never mind. Point is, a man and a woman helped me, called me a cab.”
“What do you want to us to do?” asks Peyton, crossing his arms. “Because I’d love to bust in some heads, personally.”
I look at Linnea, can see the pain in her eyes at seeing me like this. “I know what we have to do,” I tell her.
She’s struggling to hold it together. “What?”
“We get married, right here, right now.”
At first she laughs. “You’re serious?”
“It’s the only way I can protect you.”
Linnea looks behind herself to Phoenix and Peyton.
“It’s your call,” they tell me.
“You should focus on getting better,” Linnea tells me. “It can wait.”
I squeeze Linnea’s hand, speaking aloud. “No, it can’t. Call Dad,” I tell Peyton. “He knows the officiant from the ceremony. He can get this happening.”
Peyton takes out his cell. “On it,” he says, heading out of the room.
Phoenix pulls his out. “I’ll call Alissa, see if she can help.”
Soon it’s just Linnea and me left in the room.
“It’s the right call,” I tell her. “It won’t be the wedding you hoped for, I know, but at least this way it’s done. After this, there’s nothing your father can do.”
She nods. “I know.”
I look back towards the door. “Don’t suppose you brought your wedding dress?”
*
It takes less than an hour to arrange everything.
It’s quite a strange set-up having so many people crammed into this tiny hospital room. Phoenix and Heather are here, Peyton, all dressed up to the nines. Dad showed up with Alissa, brought along an officiant he told me this was far from the most unusual ceremony he’s attended. Alissa even had a truck load of white flowers delivered, turned the place into a secret garden of sorts.
The Doc’s only condition was that I remain in bed, which did make getting into my suit quite difficult. Phoenix and Peyton tried to help, but they struggle dressing themselves let alone someone else.
I look at Dad as we wait for Linnea to get changed down the hall. She headed off with Erin half an hour ago. God knows what they’ve been getting up to.
Light music, again supplied by Alissa, is playing, Phoenix and Peyton beside me with their hands clasped in front of themselves, Heather on the other side making eye sex with her better half across the room.
Dad hasn’t said anything, but I know loosely what’s he thinking, that this was all too fast. Maybe? It’s hard to know the mind of Stone King, but I am thankful my brothers have loosened up this path for me. In truth Dad probably thinks of this more like a transaction, a way to keep Linnea safe. He might be many things, but he has become soft on matters of the heart these last couple of years, even to his own detriment at times. If he can grow, become a better version of himself, hell, anyone can.
Erin arrives in the doorway smiling, entering the room, letting Linnea fill her space. In that instant, I am breathless.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.
The dress Alissa helped her pick out features a deep, plunging neckline with bare shoulders, simple and elegant. There’s not a hint of tomboy. What I see before me is all woman, all beauty, and all I’ll ever need.
I see her and know this is the right decision. I look into her eyes, see her smiling, and I never want to look away.
“Wow,” I say, when she stands next to me, taking my hand. “You look incredible.”
She’s nervous, I can tell, but it only makes her more endearing.
“You scrub up pretty good yourself,” she whispers.
The officiant steps forward. “Shall we start?”
It’s a simple ceremony. Everything’s running along smoothly, but when it comes to the vows, I panic.
“I don’t have my vows,” I tell Linnea.
“Neither do I,” she replies, recalling them from memory.
I’m not so gifted, forced to improvise.
Silence fills the room. I know no one’s going to expect me to recite a Shakespearian masterwork, but I still want to speak my mind and make it somewhat elegant.
I take a moment to compose myself and look to my bride-to-be. “I remember the first time I saw you,” I begin. “I got the feeling you were someone I wanted to, no, needed to know,” I correct. “I remember your first words to me, our first kiss, waking up to Michael Jordan.” This is met by a few bemused looks around the room but laughter from Linnea.
“Waking up to you, I knew,” I continue. “This was the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and yeah, you’re smart and funny and a complete badass who’s oddly gifted at sports of every kind, but I want you to know my love for you is real, that you are that person I dream of coming home to. Forever and always, my heart is yours, Linnea Marsden. Do with it what you will.”
She breaks down. Wiping away tears, her eyes fluttering. “I don’t want to ruin Erin’s makeup,” she laughs.
Erin speaks up from the back of the room. “I’m no expert. You’re probably doing it a favor.”
Panic returns when we come to exchange rings, but Phoenix reaches into his pocket and passes across the ring Mom left for me, one for each of us brothers and this the last. I almost tear up myself thinking about her, how proud she’d be standing there seeing Linnea, seeing me so happy.
Grace fills that spot. I think she’s crying enough for everyone combined.
We exchange rings, a hearty round of applause when we kiss and the marriage is made official.
There’s nothing Rex can do now, I realize.
Linnea’s mine, she’s a King, and she’s safe.
*
After the celebrations are completed—apple juice for me, champagne for every else—it’s just Linnea and me, the door closed and nothing but the soft hum of a working hospital.
Linnea’s lying up on the bed beside me, arm over my chest adjusting my bandage.
The pain has dropped off, or maybe it’s just the drugs.
I play with her hair. “How does it feel to be married, Mrs. King?”
She holds her hand up, ring glinting in the moonlight from the window. “Pretty damn good, truth be told.”
Her hand falls back to my chest, runs under the blanket and finds my cock through my underwear. It’s a hell of a lot better than the paper panties I was wearing when I woke up in here. She rubs at my length lightly. “It’s a shame we can’t consummate the marriage.”
I take the blanket and pull it, throwing it over her and keeping an eye on the door. Nurses have been coming in and out all night. I don’t want them to see what I’m about to do.
With one hand I gather up the wedding dress, pulling it until I have access between her legs. Her hand stops moving against my crotch. “What are you doing?” she slurs.
My fingers dance over the lace of her panties, wedding lingerie I would have liked to see in a different light, but this will have to do.
My fingers creep over the waistband and tuck inside, searching.
She gasps, head falling back to the pillow. “You do realize where we are, don’t you?”
“Do I realize someone could walk through that door at any moment?” I tell her, my hand inside her panties, fingers splitting the soft lips of her sex. “Of course I do. It would be dangerous, risqué, wouldn’t it?” I slip a finger inside her. “Reckless even.”
Her back arches off the bed, her eyes shuttering closed. “It would,” she breathes out.
I let my thumb pad her clit and begin to apply pressure, my finger sliding in and out of her wetness below. “Any moment,” I tell her, “and we could be caught, my finger inside you, my thumb against your clit.”
She tightens as I circle the small nub of it, tapping it lightly.
She reaches for the blanket, holding it tight while I stroke her, easing a second finger inside and finding her inner wall, that one spot I know will send her crazy.
I lean over, my lips at he
r ear. “Or would you prefer it was my cock sliding inside you right now? Filling you up, stretching out this tight little hole of yours?”
Immediately she goes taut, one, two seconds before she exhales long and low, her pussy tightening and releasing around my finger in rapid staccato. I didn’t think she’d come so fast, but it’s a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
She turns to me flustered, thighs squeezing around my hand, trapping it in place. She reaches below the blanket and finds my cock again. “My turn, dear husband.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LINNEA
I pull up outside the hospital and gather Nolan’s things from the passenger seat. I thought he should leave in something other than the blood-stained suit he came in with.
I’m about to open the car door when my cell rings. I take it out and note the private number. I know it’s my father, but I answer anyhow, planning to keep it short.
“You should stop calling me,” I tell him.
“My own daughter? And why would I do that?”
“Because she told you to.”
“I heard you were jilted at the altar.”
My blood starts to boil, but I’m not going to let him get the better of me. “I suppose you would know something about that, wouldn’t you? But if you think we’re going to be intimidated, you’re wrong.”
“I think,” he replies, “next Saturday would be a perfect day for your wedding with Harry.”
I smile with satisfaction because I know this next line is going to drive a stake right through that steel heart of his. “I’m married to Nolan, officially, so you can stay away from me, my husband, and my family.”
His patience starts to diminish. “Stop playing games, Linnea.”
“You are the one playing games,” I snap. “I want nothing to do with you. I don’t know how many times I have to say that for it to compute in that thick skull of yours. I’m grateful my mother protected me from you for all those years because now I understand what a monster you are.”
“Li—”
I’ve already hung up.
I’m still prickling with rage as I walk through the hospital, but I take a moment before I enter Nolan’s room to calm myself. I need to be strong for him, for us.
I enter smiling, holding up the clothes. “You ready to get out of here?”