Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

“Thanks, Kat. The potatoes are delicious, Sadie.” Her words were bland instead of effusive, her politeness routine now instead of sincere. She flashed something that resembled a smile and turned back to the food she mostly shoved from one end of the plate to the other.

It was my fault and not just the stupid, fucked-up proposal. I was at fault for treating Bonnie the same as everyone else had. For only giving a damn about her if she met my conditions. It was my fault that she sat there now, picking at her food, probably plotting her escape.

“How are you feeling, Bonnie?”

My question startled her, or maybe it was the fact that the whole damn table fell silent. Bonnie looked up and blinked. “I’m fine, thanks.”

I tried to hide my disappointment, but I couldn’t. Bonnie was slipping away, and I felt powerless to do anything about it.

“Great. Just fucking great,” I mumbled to no one in particular. Tonight, after dinner we would talk. No matter what.

Virgil and Maisie made weird eyes at each other, both of them wearing secret smiles before he stood and reached for her hand.

“Since it’s just family here tonight we wanted to share some good news for a change.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, and once I spotted that giant rock on Maisie’s left hand, I knew before she even stood what they would announce. Maisie held up her hand.

“Virgil asked me to be his wife, well more like he told me we belonged together and I agreed. We’re getting married!”

My gaze went to Bonnie instantly, and she wore a soft smile that was happiness blended with sadness. No, not sadness but maybe a wistfulness that she didn’t have that for herself. Her very own happy ending. She would have it, dammit, as soon as she started to see reason. Until that moment came, I stood to join the rest of my family in welcoming the newest member.

“Congratulations, big brother.” I held out my hand and like the oaf he was, Virgil pulled me in for a crushing hug and a back-cracking smack.

“Thanks, man.”

“Welcome to the family, officially.” I wrapped Maisie in a hug. “Your straitjacket will be delivered after the vows.”

She laughed and squeezed me tighter. “Be patient, Cal,” she whispered in my ear, “she’s in a screwed-up place right now.”

“I know,” I whispered back and pulled away. “Thanks.”

Bonnie did the same, offering robotic hugs and dull well wishes before sitting down again and picking up the fork even though she hadn’t put anything in her mouth in at least twenty minutes. “You guys will be so happy together,” she said, her smile as bland as the milk she was drinking.

Thomas disappeared and returned with champagne to celebrate, thinking nothing of Bonnie’s quiet refusal. No one else seemed to notice other than Maisie, but she already knew why.

“Bonnie dear, are you up for a small sip?” Sadie asked.

Bonnie looked up at her name. “I’m good, thanks.” Realizing that she wasn’t alone, maybe for the first time all night, she looked up with a frown that turned to embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

Sadie sighed in disappointment and to her credit, not anger, she prepared to do something she hated above all else. Repeating herself. “I asked if—”

The loud sound of screeching tires cut her off, followed by the tangled crunch of crushing metal, of a car slamming into the wrought iron fence that kept Ashby Manor protected from the world. It could have been my imagination but felt as if the whole house shook on its foundations. As one, we all jumped to our feet.

“The fuck?” Virgil was the first one out the door, gun drawn and a dark look on his face. The rest of the family followed, including Maisie and Bonnie.

“Who is it?” Sadie and Kat tried to see past the line made by Terry, Virgil, Jasper, and myself. “What the fuck is happening?”

“This is what you call the shit hittin’ the fan, Ma. You girls get inside and stay there.” Even Jasper’s voice held a hint of defeat as we stared at the black Charger driven by the former SEAL tasked with keeping an eye on Savannah Rhymer.

We crept carefully into the dark night. Virgil kept his gun aimed at the driver’s seat as he drew closer and yanked the door open.

“Lance?”

At first, we heard nothing but silence and then a bloody cough and another one.

“Virgil? Shit man. Ambushed.” Every word the man spoke seemed to steal some of his life force, but he slid from the car on his own two feet before collapsing to his knees. I saw at least three bullet wounds on his blood-stained shirt, but the man was oblivious to his own injuries, just the job at hand.

“They got Savannah. T-boned us and shot me. Took the girl.” His eyes fell closed, and Bonnie gasped loudly, believing him dead.