NATASHA

The last week has left me in a euphoric state. Bear's house already feels like home. The wedding plans are coming together quickly with the help of a planner and Katja's many assistants. I took the kids to meet Hunter at her mother's estate. They saw Suzanne Knutsen's many beautiful horses and ate mini vegetarian hot dogs.

Now, I'm on my way to my bachelorette party at an upscale bar in downtown Banta City. With a pregnant Carys in attendance, we're keeping it low-key by listening to music, enjoying Jello shots, and eating Buffalo cauliflower. The entire event will take place under the watchful gaze of my security detail. Their presence scares off most of the patrons, leaving the bar nearly empty for our party.

My bridal group wears red shirts and tiaras supplied by the assistant my mom sent. My tiara has the word "bride" at the top and a little pink veil. It's all silly stuff. Nothing too crazy. I plan to avoid doing anything to upset my family.

"This is Yvette," Siobhan tells Petra and Hunter when she arrives with her sister and a club member's wife. "She was recently wronged by her man, and Natasha was nice enough to invite her to the party."

"Claw left me for a club slut with floppy boobs and an ethnic slur for a name," Yvette announces and smooths out her long, blonde ponytail. "I need a way to punish him when he comes back."

"Exfoliate his cock," Carys insists as she sets her donut cushion on a chair and eases down on it. "And his balls. Really clean up that area. If you leave a few nicks and some bleeding, so be it."

"Or you could not take him back," Siobhan suggests while Hunter aggressively nods. "I know you love him, but he's always pulling these moves with dumb whores."

My brain quickly assures my heart how Bear won't ever do such a thing to me. He's had time to "sow his wild oats." According to Siobhan, he doesn't even fuck the club sluts anymore. I'm sure I can trust him.

Two pi?a colada Jello shots later, I start crying over how Bear's going to cheat on me.

"I only know two good sex moves," I tell Hunter while petting her red hair, "and he's already seen them."

I jump up in a panic and plan to run. Except I'm dizzy, and the music makes me dance instead. Hunter wraps me up from behind and sways with me. Siobhan stares into my eyes and dances along with us.

"You're like your babies," Siobhan explains while cupping my face. "This last month has been overwhelming. You're getting spooked by everything. It's not real. You're in control. Life isn't falling apart. Just breathe."

With her guidance, I stop panicking and return to my seat.

Yvette turns to Carys and asks, "What was that?"

"Natasha's big heart is always bursting with emotions. Don't be intimidated by how much she cares."

"Are you drinking?" Hunter asks and sniffs Carys's drink.

"I wish. This baby is my last one. I'm sick of being pregnant."

"You've only got three kids," Yvette says, slurring her words. "I gave Claw four. What did he give me?"

Carys shrugs. "According to what you told me the last night when you were drunk, he's offered you many oral pleasures."

Siobhan snickers and downs a Jello shot. "Claw really likes going down on his woman."

"Why?" Petra asks, while my thoughts return to memories of Bear nibbling at my inner thigh.

"His dick doesn't make magic, so he needs to use his tongue," Carys says and winks in a drunken way. "It's sympathy booze symptoms," she insists when a concerned Petra sniffs her drink.

"You shouldn't let Claw come back when he's done with the Gypsy bitch," Siobhan insists.

"I don't think you're supposed to use that word anymore," Petra announces and drinks her tequila shot before shuddering for a very long time. "I just remembered I don't like tequila. I think I'll try vodka."

"You shouldn't mix alcohol," I warn, winning frowns from everyone except Hunter who aggressively nods.

"Are you the designated driver?" Yvette asks when Hunter keeps watching over everyone's drink order.

"God no. I'm just trying to keep things sane, so I won't get punched in the face again."

"What bitch punched you?" Petra sneers and then laughs at her voice's weird pitch.

"Carys got in a fight with a skank."

Carys slams her hands flat on the table. "I've got to speak my truth. Silencing me is like silencing a prophet."

"Your knowledge is legendary," Petra insists and smiles in a sloppy way.

"Yeah, but you're pregnant, so I can't allow a bitch to punch you," Hunter explains and sips her Jello shot. "I took that punch, and I'll take another one tonight if you start shit."

"Not if but when, sug," Siobhan insists. "Carys has been in a weird mood all day."

"Try carrying this kid."

Siobhan glares at her older sister. "I carried two at the same time."

"Yeah, six years ago. You don't even remember."

The sisters flip each other off while Hunter takes a sip of Carys's drink. "Is this lemonade spiked?"

"No, bitch. Stop hassling me," Carys snaps and glares at Hunter. "Think you can take me? Be warned, this kitty has claws."

"If you weren't pregnant, I'd already have you on the floor, begging for mercy."

Carys snorts. "Yeah, probably. I can't beat your butch moves." Then, she eases out of her chair and goes to hug Hunter. "Thank you for getting punched to protect me."

"It was my pleasure."

"No, this is a preemptive hug for when I get you punched later," Carys explains and sits back down. "I'm feeling hormonal tonight, and I can't even get wasted like you whores."

Siobhan ignores her sister's threats and hugs me. "You're home," she says and nuzzles my hair. "I missed you."

"Hey, you never said what happened with the dad from the girls' school. How did drinks go?"

Siobhan narrows her eyes and snarls. "The asshole showed up and announced he was only interested in me for his own sexual pleasure. He apologized for wasting my time and left. Without a doubt, one of my brothers got to him. Probably Indigo, that puritan motherfucker."

Hugging her, I gently drop some logic on my bestie. "I know you're bummed, but the guy was going through a divorce. I bet he'd spend most of the date bitching about his ex."

"You're right, but I still want to be able to make mistakes with bad men like every other woman. Why must I be forced to live a solitary life until my Mister Right appears? I want to whore shit up, too."

"After the wedding, when things quiet down, I'll be your wingman. I promise we'll hit up places without any bikers interfering."

"I've always adored your naivety," Siobhan murmurs and hugs me.

We continue to hug each other through Carys requesting the DJ change the music from pop to country. Meanwhile, Yvette talks about Claw's tongue and how he refers to her as his butterfly.

"I came out of a cocoon or some shit," she tries to explain. "I'm a beauty or something. I never really understood, but it sounded nice."

"You need therapy," Petra insists. "I'm going to see a therapist to help me deal with my bad marriage."

"What the fuck makes you think my marriage is bad, bitch?" Yvette hollers, startling me out of my hug with Siobhan.

"She gets like this when she drinks," Carys explains and waves off the woman's rage. "It's all noise."

"I'll punch this blonde bitch's pretty face," Yvette sneers at my sister.

"You're blonde and pretty, too. We're twins," Petra says and lifts her shot glass. "To surviving ungrateful men."

Yvette goes sweet immediately. "Let's be best friends. I'll braid your hair."

As a drunken Yvette creates an elaborate French braid in Petra's blonde hair, Siobhan, Hunter, and I walk to the empty dance floor. Another bachelorette crew arrives, taking up a large part of the bar. The women wear "Bride Squad" T-shirts. The bride-to-be is a loud, brassy blonde wearing a "Bridezilla" T-shirt and a giant tiara.

"Should I have been tackier?" I ask my friends as we return to the table after dancing to several songs.

"I'm not wearing that stupid fucking shirt," Carys grumbles as Yvette now creates goofy braids in our friend's long, brown hair. "Though I wouldn't mind those whore bead necklaces women throw at people at Mardi Gras. Siobhan, go buy me some."

Smiling, I suggest, "We could all wear them."

"I'm not going to the store," Siobhan grumbles and sits down very deliberately as if her ass on the seat is her exclamation mark.

"Hey, I have an assistant with me!" I announce and jump up. "That's the lady looking at me like I'm a foolish twat."

"Your twat is very wise," Siobhan announces. "This hairy bitch went to college."

Hunter finds our friend's comment hilarious, mostly because Siobhan is staring at my vagina while making the statement.

Leaving them to laugh, I ask the assistant to locate Mardi Gras necklaces for my group. The woman looks relieved to have something to do besides stand near the door. I return to my friends who order more appetizers than we'll ever be able to eat. Several of them are vegetarian for me.

"Who is the best kisser you've ever had?" Hunter asks me. "That's what we're doing now. Wanna guess all the answers? Because they're not hard to guess."

"Shut up, ginger," Carys hisses and reaches over to mess with her hair. "You should let Tack kiss all over you. According to many women, his tongue is energetic. No, what's the word that one club slut used? Demanding. Oh, yeah."

"I don't want to be sexually involved with a biker."

Carys hisses again at Hunter who leans back and waits for the derision.

"I support your choice!" I cry and pound on the table. "I didn't want to be with a biker, either. But, you know, Bear was really hot, and I couldn't help myself."

"She gets it," Siobhan says and hugs me. "You're so horny for Bear."

"I really am," I tell her, and we laugh way too hard about something so small.

"What kind of man are you looking for, doll?" Yvette asks Hunter.

"I'm not looking for a man. I just want to live my life."

"I think I might date a lady," Petra proclaims, and everyone turns their attention to her. "I had a crush on the nanny back in Cincinnati. She was so soft and pretty, and my husband was this big, hairy loser with fat fingers and sloppy kisses."

Hearing my dutiful sister's pained voice, I lunge for her and hug her body against mine. "You deserve everything you want."

Though Petra laughs at my dramatics, she often hides her pain behind smiles and humor. My sister has always owned her beauty and power in a way I never could. Now, though, I realize Petra lives with a burden I don't have. She can't reveal her heart like I do. Her need to project strength and casual cool forces her to hide her pain.

Right now, the booze rips away her mask. Petra looks at me and sighs. "I really liked her, but I don't know if I was just lonely." My sister pauses as tears burn her eyes. "I was all alone. You remember what it was like there. I had no friends. No one to talk to. I couldn't even speak on the phone without feeling watched."

Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her cheeks and console my big sister. Carys walks around the table and hugs Petra from behind. I see the moment when Petra truly comes to terms with how she's free of Brandon and his family. Her days of solitude are over. Life is full of possibilities again.

The mood gets festive as my sister receives the acceptance she craves. We order another round of drinks. Hunter suggests we keep the alcohol level low to prevent anyone from passing out drunk within the first hour.

We drink the strawberry margarita Jello shots with Carys enjoying a non-alcoholic version. Siobhan and I dance to her favorite country songs. The DJ likely doesn't want to repeat the songs, but Hunter frequently slides him hundred-dollar bills to keep the soundtrack to our liking.

"I'm hearing grumbling from the other bachelorette party," Hunter tells Siobhan and me as we dance to "Lucky 4 You" on repeat.

"Why should I care?" Siobhan asks and dips me.

"I'm not looking to get punched in the face again."

I reach across Siobhan and stroke Hunter's pale, freckled cheek. "If things get too rowdy, we'll just leave."

"No, we'll have the bitches thrown out," Siobhan mutters as she spins me around. "The club owns a piece of this place. That's why we're here."

Trusting Siobhan's words, Hunter chills out and dances with us. When the SHeDAISY song starts playing for a fifth time, Bridezilla jumps up and yells, "Oh, hell no!"

"Here we go," Hunter says and rubs her jaw.

Bridezilla's friend yells, "Use our playlist!"

"Listen, bitch!" Carys hollers from the other side of the bar. "We reserved our table! We paid the DJ to play our music! If you don't like that shit, get the fuck out!"

"This is a free country, skank!" Bridezilla screams back. "Don't tell me where to fucking go!"

"Uh-oh," Siobhan says as Carys stands up and waddles toward the other women.

"Skank?" Carys snarls. "You're such a whore, you won't even feel it when I shove a chair up your giant hooch!"

Hunter steps in front of Carys, "Good Lord, settle your hormonal ass down."

After Bridezilla says something to her friends, one of them screams, "Yeah, ginger, get that bitch under control!"

As Hunter and Petra play buffers to keep a cussing Carys from reaching her victim, Siobhan kisses my cheek.

"I'm going to play peacemaker," she says and walks to the women's table.

"Everything's fine," Siobhan says with her hands out. "You're getting married to a welder or, um, maybe a jet ski salesman. Good for you, hot stuff. But keep in mind, my bestie is marrying a rich guy who can kill your man. So, let's not make this a contest, okay?"

"Congratulations," I say to the other bride-to-be before my brain catches up to how Siobhan isn't being helpful.

Bridezilla narrows her eyes, preparing to unleash insults. One of her friends whispers something in her ear. Whatever she says throws cold water on the future bride's burning hot resentment.

"Share the DJ, okay?" Bridezilla grumbles between clenched teeth.

"We'll try, but I've got to have my jams," Siobhan replies and shakes her ass to SHeDAISY.

As the women arrive at an edgy understanding, I count the number of them versus my group's numbers. After factoring in my security detail, I feel comfortable turning my back on the rowdy women.

Siobhan and I return to where Carys has worn herself out. She's now sitting with her feet up as Petra fans her flushed face.

"I'm so excited to have a baby girl," Carys tells her old friend. "You had your two girls and then a boy. I just flipped it, but we're the same."

Petra shrugs. "Well, except for how you like your husband, and I hope mine dies from a festering dick wound."

"But I chose Pork Chop," Carys points out and tugs Petra closer. "You haven't gotten to choose a sexy guy or a hot lady yet."

"I don't know what I want," my sister admits before shrugging. "I think maybe I just want to be on my own with no one bossing me around."

"Amen," Hunter says and lifts her newly served Jello shot.

I drink mine and check my phone for updates on the kids. I take a selfie with Siobhan and Petra to send to the nanny so she can show Jacinda and Hector.

While Siobhan orders quesadillas to satisfy her sister's newest craving, I text Bear and let him know I'm drunk, horny, and thinking of him.

He replies immediately, "You interrupted my bible study."

"Are there strippers there?"

"Yeah, but none with an outie."

Reading over my shoulder, Yvette asks, "What the fuck does that mean?"

"My belly button is an outie," I explain, and she laughs way too hard as the booze makes everyone loopy and loud.

"Take a picture of the hottest dancer and send it to me," I text Bear. "I want to know my competition."

A few seconds later, he sends a picture of Golden dancing on stage with Sync. "They're both so darned pretty. I can't choose."

Laughing, I show Siobhan who rolls her eyes. "Sync never danced with me, even at Carys's wedding. Now, he's getting groovy with Golden. I'd be insulted if I didn't wish him the best of luck growing old with eighteen-year-old sluts taking turns spinning on his dick."

Hunter changes chairs and comes to hug Siobhan. "It's only a matter of time before you find someone who sees only you," she promises our friend. "He's going to make you crazy like Sync, but he'll never stray."

I glance at Yvette who knows we're all thinking about her situation.

"I tried to be on my own," she admits. "I even dated other men. After Claw was done with his slut and begging to come home, I said no. But those other men didn't make me feel like he did when things were good," she mumbles and then frowns. "Don't judge me."

"You've got to give your heart what it wants," Hunter insists, and I notice her slurring her words. "Maybe it's a cheating man or a guy named after a yummy meat. Or maybe it's a sweet nanny or a biker who made a terrible mistake. But we can only do what feels best in the time we have left on this planet."

"You're so philosophical when wasted," Siobhan tells Hunter while playing with her red pixie cut.

"You know what?" Bridezilla hollers from the other bachelorette party. She stumbles toward us as her friends try to stop her. "My man might not be a scumbag like yours, dumb bitch! But he keeps your ass safe at night, cunt!"

Before anyone from my group can decipher her gibberish—let alone deescalate the situation—a bottle crashes down next to our table.

"Protect the preggers!" Petra cries and runs to shield Carys.

Siobhan and Hunter block me. "You can't get bruised up before the wedding," Siobhan explains.

Bridezilla starts swinging as we back up toward our table. Before I get a black eye for my wedding, Hunter unleashes her Muay Thai and lands a solid punch right in the bitch's face.

The women from the other party run screeching to their friend's defense. Threats are made. Drinks are thrown.

Then, before they can reach our table, my security drops them. Tiaras and bad hair extensions fly in the air.

Still on the ground but stuck behind my merciless security, the drunken women fling shoes at us. As we crowd protectively around Carys, she eats the recently delivered quesadillas while texting someone. She also curses loudly when the women's Mardi Gras beads rain down on us.

"Cavalry's coming," Carys finally announces.

Unfortunately, before our backup arrives, the police do. They only listen to Bridezilla—soon-to-be Lizzy Brennan—before rounding up my security team and handcuffing them.

Even sloshed from Jello shots, I'm very cognizant of how the fun is over, and I'm about to end my bachelorette party in the back of a police car.