I always forget what a pretty boy he is. Of course, I won’t say that. I don’t need him breaking my nose before I marry her even if he is somewhat unrecognizable. When Axel cleans up, like shaves and puts on a suit, he looks like a model or some kind of rock star.
“What? Why are you smirking at me?” he growls and pulls out a joint.
“You look very handsome.” I can’t help it. I have to, at least a little.
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry, I know you’re sensitive about your looks.”
“The fuck?”
I don’t engage this time. The last thing I need is Axel being an ass. It’s not a perfect wedding, but for Vegas, last minute, I think it looks pretty damn good.
I turn to the idiot who owns the place. He looks nervous—not that I blame him. There’re probably a hundred plus Disciples roaming his property. I had no idea all my brothers and their old ladies would want to come.
“I know you mentioned something about talking to the justice of the peace. He’s arrived too. Should I have your bride brought to our waiting room?”
“Yes, although I want to start the ceremony right after I talk to the justice of the peace.”
“Not a problem.” His eyes dart around the room, and he motions for a staffer to set some flowers in a certain spot.
“You can discuss everything in my office,” he announces like he’s a butler rather than an idiot who owns a chapel in Vegas.
“Axel, it’s time.”
He slowly looks over at me. Pointing at the glass ceiling with flowers hanging from it, he says, “This place is so tacky, it’s almost perfect.” He inhales again, the pungent smell of his weed following us.
“Man, don’t be a dick.” I motion to the owner’s back. It’s so stiff you could bounce a ball off it.
“Christ,” he mumbles as he takes another drag then releases it up to the ceiling. “I like your place.”
I turn to glare at him and he busts out in a laugh as we enter the small, cramped office. A faint mildew smell clings to the yellow carpet, which has patches of dark gray where people have stood before.
A man dressed in a cheap navy suit looks up from his phone as we enter. His brown hair is gelled back, and his dark eyes roam from me to Axel.
“Can I help you?” He straightens yet still comes up to my chin.
“Yeah, I’m the groom.”
He pockets his phone and crosses his arms. “Okay… requests?”
“Paul recommended you.”
Again, his eyes dart back and forth from me to Axel. “Yeah, I know Paul. How can I help?”
“I need this to be legal, but I need it dated two weeks ago. How much do you need to make this happen?”
He looks down at his black shoes and then over at Axel who is still smoking that crazy shit he grows.
“Hold on.” He pulls out his phone and starts to text. “What’s your name?”
“Edge.” I don’t bother with my last name. It’s not needed. Paul, a brother who grew up with us and fought his way to the top of the arms dealer world knows who I am. He nods at the phone, his whole attitude changing by whatever he’s reading on the text. Because he goes from distrust to fear to a forced smile as he types something back then pockets his phone again.
“I need five thousand. It will be notarized and completely legal. My sister works in the county clerk’s office.”
I pull out my cash and count it out for him. Not smiling, he stuffs the wad into his suit pocket and starts for the door.
“I know you are very aware of what Paul does.” My voice stops him as both Axel and I walk past him to block the door.
He looks up almost startled. “I’m a professional. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I always worry. I need you to be clear before you take the Disciples’ money.”
Silence fills the small room as he nods looking me in the eyes.
“I always feel I need to explain this before I ever give anyone money because that seals the deal. And trust me, you don’t want us coming back.”
Axel shuts the door and my mouth twitches with his dramatic flair.
“Yes. We won’t be looking for you. I’ll be looking for your family.” Axel’s hand rests on the door handle.
“I understand.” Again, he looks me in the eyes. “Are we ready to proceed?”
My heart does a painful thud. “Yeah, I’m ready.” I run my hands through my hair and turn to look at Axel as if he can magically make this go smoothly.
He exhales but stands up straight. “You want the short and basic right?” He walks over to the small mirror hanging on the wall.
“I want it legal.”
He nods. “It will be. Do you want a best man? And does your fiancée have a maid of honor?”