And if they don’t, what have I lost? Papa’s dead. Nico killed him. Momma’s dead. Papa killed her—I think. Nothing matters and my future feels like a thin piece of glass in the distance, like a mirage shimmering in the desert, maybe there, maybe not, and does it even matter?
Rinaldo pulls into the parking lot of a white building with a big steepled front and purple trim. There’s one other car in the lot and Rinaldo pulls up right into the first spot. He kills the engine and sits staring at the wall ahead of him for several long, uncomfortable moments before he shifts in my direction and shows his teeth.
“And here we are,” he says quietly. “I know what you’re thinking. This can’t possibly happen, can it? But don’t worry, my future wife. I called ahead and confirmed that this is the kind of establishment that doesn’t ask questions and doesn’t make problems so long as their customers have money and aren’t so drunk they’re passing out and making trouble. So here’s what’ll happen. We’re going inside and you won’t say a word. You’ll smile and nod as needed, but if you open your mouth beyond saying ‘I do,’ I will rip out one of your teeth for every word you speak. Do you hear me? One word, one tooth, and if I leave you a gummy little witch, I won’t mind one bit. I’m not marrying you for your face. Do you understand?”
I meet his eyes and I nod, but I don’t say a word.
He grins. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s go inside and get this over with. This is the easy part, Karah, don’t look so glum. You’re beautiful in your white gown, though I must imagine the dress you wore yesterday was much nicer.”
“If I’m married to Nico, how can I also be married to you?”
He waves a hand in the air. “Your Nico issue is a technicality. A little legal issue your family can smooth over for me. Now get out and don’t make any trouble or we’re having some major dental surgery this afternoon.”
I nod once and try to make him think I’m a docile little lamb and follow him into the sweltering Vegas heat. It’s overbearing and oppressive, even worse than Phoenix somehow, and I’m instantly sodden with sweat as my dress acts like insulation. A car honks as it whizzes past—someone must’ve thought I was a happy or at least a willing bride, joke’s on them—and I feel so exposed I think I might cry.
But I have no tears.
I’m too exhausted for that. I haven’t slept and I hurt all over from hopping the fence, from being tied up, from getting punched in the face. There’s even an ache between my legs and I hate it, I despise it, I wish I could make it stop, but Rinaldo’s walking to the front door and I’m expected to follow.
I stop and stand in the parking lot, staring at him.
If I go in there, he’ll make me marry him. Maybe his plan will work and my brothers will be so disoriented and disturbed that they’ll force me to stay with Rinaldo—or maybe Rinaldo will learn that Papa’s dead and do something drastic—or any number of other possible outcomes. All I know is, if I keep walking, Rinaldo will kill me. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe not for days or weeks or years, but he’ll do it.
He’s going to kill me.
“Karah.” He sounds impatient. “I know you’re nervous. Second wedding in as many days must be a bit much. But you have to start walking before I get angry.”
I take a step. And another. It’s like marching toward my own funeral. The opposite of the stroll down the aisle yesterday. I can still see Nico standing there looking so handsome, smiling like he’s winning the lottery, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest back then and now, two mirror spikes of adrenaline, one from happy excitement and the other from utter fear, and I’m not sure how I can survive this. I don’t think I can survive more.
I think I’m finished.
A car screams down the strip and slams on its brakes. I look over, confused, as a black Range Rover swings to the right and roars into the parking lot. It squeals to a stop a few feet before hitting me, its tires kicking up white smoke and the stench of burning rubber, and the driver’s side door opens.
Nico jumps out.
My mouth opens to warn him. He’s staring at me with pure rage and a protective snarl is on his lips and he’s about to say something, but a gunshot burns through the world and there’s suddenly blood splattered against the windshield.
Nico staggers to the side and drops to a knee. Rinaldo shoots again and again, but he misses as Nico drops to the ground and draws his own gun and fires from the concrete. His shot takes Rinaldo in the shoulder, and his second shot takes him in the chest. Rinaldo stumbles sideways, shoots out one of the back windows, and falls to the side.