“Oh I’ll give you some images to think about,” Terry laughed and stepped out right behind Jasper. “This one time—”
“Don’t make me kill my best friend,” he growled and gave Terry a shrug.
“You can’t kill me, man, you need me. We’ve got business to take care of. And who’s gonna have your back?”
Jasper smiled and then his gaze turned serious and he and Terry bumped fists. “Not one goddamn person.”
We made our way to the back room of Midnight Mass, settling around a table set up with a shit ton of food and booze like a last minute bachelor party.
“What’s all this?” Virgil looked up at the waitress, Maureen, who flashed a wicked smile.
“Maisie called ahead and said getting measured for penguin suits would have you boys fit to be tied. Feed you lots of food to soak up the booze were her orders. Enjoy.”
Terry laughed. “Kat would’ve just sent burgers,” he said and shook his head. “At least one of our ladies will keep us fed.”
Everyone dug in, piling food high on plates like it might get snatched away at any moment. We ate mostly in silence for ten solid minutes before our paces slowed.
“I don’t want to break up the good mood,” Charlie began with a sigh, “but I’ve got some news.”
And just like that, Jasper was all business again. “What is it?”
“Just what Sadie feared. Some kind of partnership between Brendan Rhymer and the Black Jacks.”
“Fuck!” Jasper nodded for Charlie to continue.
“One of our bitches overheard a few of the Jacks talking about ‘that burned-face fucker’ and how all he did was bitch about his sister. Thinks she tried to take what’s rightfully his. Apparently, they’re sick of keeping her around.”
“Hold up.” Jasper dropped his fork and stood, knocked his chair back until it almost toppled over. “Brendan has Savannah?”
Charlie gave a short nod. “Sounds like. Probably whoring her out in one of their dungeons.”
“Why doesn’t he just kill her?” I wondered out loud. “And why are they putting up with him if they hate him so much?”
“Brendan has money, lots of it,” Jasper growled.
“And the Jacks need money if they even stand a chance in fucking hell of taking our territory from him,” Charlie added angrily. “Which they won’t.” Despite his baby-faced appearance, I spotted a warrior in Charlie.
Terry shook his head. “If he’s pimping out his own sister, then that fucker means business.” His gaze went straight to Jasper. “He needs to die.”
“Too fucking right,” Jasper growled. Based solely on the look in his eye, I knew Brendan Rhymer was as good as dead.
Just like my relationship with Vanessa. Her vanishing act was on me, and if something happened to her while she was hiding from me, I would never forgive myself. I shouldn’t have told her that I loved her, even though I did and with my whole fucking heart. It was too soon for her, but over the course of another sleepless night, I realized that maybe forever would be too soon for Nessa. She’d already had love in her life and she probably wasn’t looking for it again, especially not with a man like me.
“You got that, Emmett?”
I blinked and looked away from my glass of Velvet Fire that Maureen had just brought out. I looked at Jasper. “What?”
“Until Brendan is no longer an issue, we need everyone helping out.” I nodded my agreement. “Whatever is going on with you and Nessa doesn’t matter now. Keep her safe. I don’t want to have to put Provo or Mace on her.”
“I will,” I promised. I didn’t want either one of those guys spending 24/7 with her. That was my job.
“Good.” Jasper stared off into space for a long moment, probably daydreaming about the way he would end Brendan Rhymer, before he returned to the moment of revelry.
“Now raise your motherfucking glasses so we can toast my kid brother, marrying the love of his life. Now you have something else to fight for.”
“Slainte.” We all raised our glasses and killed a full bottle of Velvet Fire before we finished off the food.
Chapter Thirty
Vanessa
It was good to be here again. That was the thought that settled around me as I took a seat in one of the family rooms at Ashby Manor, surrounded by the smiling faces of Kat and Maisie, and the bemused smirking face that belonged to Sadie.
“Should the bride be involved in planning her own bachelorette party?”
Maisie tossed her head back and laughed. “We’re not sticklers for tradition around here if you haven’t noticed. And when planning the party becomes a party, I’d say the bride has an obligation to show up.”
Her red lips parted into a bright smile that made her skin glow and she lifted her tumbler in the air. “To creating our own traditions.”
I thought of my own family and the old traditions they expected the newer generations to follow without question, and I raised my still empty glass, preferring this way instead.