Chapter 5

Chapter Five

GREY

"He's deranged," I grind out, but the words are absorbed by the three layers of tulle that Cadence is slipping over my head. "He's certifiable."

She works quietly, lacing up the corset.

I snap my fingers around her wrist, stopping her. "Tell me the truth. Did Zane really talk to Sloane's murderer? Did that creep finally accept visitors?"

"I don't know. Zane didn't talk to me about that."

I chew on the inside of my cheek.

"But…"

I perk up.

"He does talk to Dutch and Dutch tells me everything because he values his life." She tips her chin up, a picture of confidence.

I'm still spiraling with a million thoughts, but that expression of hers makes me smile.

"Dutch confirmed it." Cadence slides her finger along the length of the corset lacing. "Zane really did have an appointment at the prison today."

Okay, but that doesn't mean he actually met Slavno. Maybe he just got a picture that he could use to trick me.

"I don't think he's lying to you," Cadence adds as if she can read my mind. "Zane's been working like a dog since your accident. Making calls and doing research. Dutch said he even called in a favor with a mob boss."

"Really?"

She nods.

My shoulders sag. A part of me was hoping that Zane was screwing around like usual. If I confirmed he was lying, I could rip off this expensive dress and tell the bastard to take a long, breezy hike off a cliff.

But I can't.

Not when Zane has a key to the door that I've been desperate to open.

I know where we can find Sloane's murderer.

An image of my best friend fills my head. I see her sitting in the makeup chair next to me. Sloane's bright eyes and bouncy blonde hair. Her laughter that could fill a room. Her big, vibrant personality.

She would be over the moon at how crazy my life has been since I first met Zane.

Grey Jamieson? My adorable little nerd princess who would rather read a book than go out with me on a Saturday night? You're getting married to a crazy-hot drummer who's six years younger than you? Yes! Yes to all of that!

The Dream Sloane smiles at me.

And then she disappears.

Gone.

Left in her wake is a pool of blood dripping on the ground.

I shiver and whip my gaze away.

Cadence notices. "Are you okay? Did I cinch this too tight?"

"I'm fine," I say shakily.

She goes back to work and I wipe my sweaty palms on the wedding dress.

Sloane's death was unjust and undeserved, and the real killers are still walking free. Slavno might have wielded the knife, but it wasn't his order. At the end of my mission, at the end of this long mystery, is the true culprit.

A man who will die by my hands.

His blood for hers.

I won't stop until I see it through.

"Since there's no mirror here, I'll take a picture so you can see the full effect."

Cadence steps back, snaps the picture and shows it to me.

I gasp. Holy… The dress is magnificent. The princess cut shows off my décolletage before sweeping down into a gorgeous white train. Even with my hair a mess and my face free of makeup, the gown is transformative.

"You look stunning," Cadence says, stepping behind me. "Really beautiful, Miss Jamie—I mean… Grey." Her smile is hesitant. "But you know you don't have to do this, right? I mean, of course you know that. You're an adult. And so is Zane. He's an adult too. But it's just…"

I take one of her hands and squeeze it. "I'll be okay."

At the start of my mission, I swore I'd do anything to bring justice to Sloane and find the ones who ordered her dead. Anything.

But I didn't think the scope of my promise would include getting married to a psychotic drummer who happens to be all kinds of off-limits.

"The paw-dy is heh-ya !" The door opens and Viola, Cadence's baby sister, waltzes in. Behind her, Sol follows, lugging in a giant makeup kit.

"Wow." Viola stops dead in her tracks when she sees me.

Sol freezes too, giving me a once-over. Then he blinks, glances at Cadence and clears his facial muscles.

"Put it over there, Sol," Viola says, patting him on the shoulder like he's her own little reindeer. I'm surprised by how comfortable the little girl is around him. Of all The Kings, Sol is the one who strikes me as the most uninviting to strangers.

He gives her a blank nod before leaving.

"Oh, I love this dress!" Viola clasps her hands together, eyes shimmering. "Zane was right about this one. I thought for sure you'd prefer the mermaid-fit because you picked that tight dress for the Redwood dance but this? Wow!"

"Vi, take a breath," Cadence mutters.

Viola frowns at her sister. "Wait. Why is she wearing the dress already?"

"Because Zane told me to help with her dress and I got here before you."

"Okay?" Viola might as well have said duh . "But the dress goes on after hair and makeup."

"I…" Cadence cringes. "I forgot."

"Hopeless." Viola does a dramatic eye roll.

Their sisterly banter seems cutthroat on the surface, but there's an underlying thread of love and warmth to it. I'm glad to see that losing their mom—for real this time—didn't hurt their bond.

There's another knock on the door.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"It better not be Zane." Viola twists her long, thick hair into a ponytail. "It's bad luck to see a bride before her wedding day. Dutch didn't believe me and look what happened."

Cadence flinches at her sister's words. Hurrying forward, she opens the door. "It's not Zane."

A large, buxom woman with mahogany-toned skin bounces into the room. "I'm here for the future Mrs. Zane Cross."

Those eight words make me gag.

Is this really happening? What the hell is going on right now?

Viola and Cadence point me out.

The newcomer moves over to me and frowns at my hair. "Oh, baby. That's not good. But don't worry. I haven't met a head of hair I can't handle. I'll fix you right up."

"Um…" I stammer.

Suddenly, a cape appears around my throat and I'm promptly shoved into the makeup chair. Viola does my base makeup while the hairdresser untangles my hair.

By her size and extroverted nature, I thought she'd be rough but she moves gently through my coils, giving them love and care.

"It already looks so good," Viola squeals twenty minutes later, a big grin on her face. "I'm so glad I matched your foundation right. The lady at the store had a similar skin tone, but her undertone was different so I wasn't sure."

I want to respond to Viola, but I notice the hairdresser pulling my hair back into a similar but classier bun than the one I woke up in this morning.

"Leave it down," I say, touching my hair.

"Sweetheart, this dress deserves a high knot to show off your gorgeous collarbones."

"I look better with my hair down."

"Now, I've been doing hair for years. You just listen to me and I'll fix you right up?—"

"I said I don't want my hair up, okay?" My voice trembles a bit and both Viola and the hairdresser stop.

My nostrils flare and even I'm a bit surprised by how emotional I'm getting.

"Grey…" Cadence says quietly. But her eyes aren't on me. They're on my temple where my scar is.

That's when I realize I'd subconsciously touched my stitches.

I whip my hand down, but it's too late. Embarrassed, I grumble, "Just do the top knot."

"I can leave it down," the hairdresser says gently.

"I'm fine," I answer, defeated.

The air in the room turns chilly and the ladies tiptoe around me like I'm fragile glass.

Maybe I am.

Maybe I'm too broken to be put together again.

"Don't be such a cry baby."

I look up and Sloane's there, leaning against the wall across from me. Her mouth is twisted into a mischievous smile.

"This is your moment. Your wedding day! Enjoy it. "

Enjoy what?

Getting to meet Slavno after so many years?

Right after his conviction, I staked out the prison, the courthouse and anyone who would listen, hoping for a meeting with the psycho.

I've been so desperate, Jarod Cross was able to dangle Slavno in front of me like a carrot, but he didn't deliver. Zane might not either. Everything's a risk. I'll celebrate when I'm finally sitting across from Sloane's murderer.

Activities whirl around me. I go numb until the preparations are complete. Everyone in the room showers me with compliments, but all I can see when I look in Viola's LED makeup mirror is a woman who's truly crossed every line she can.

It'll be worth it when this is all over.

Shakily, I lift my hand and touch my stitches. It's a constant reminder of the threat I'm up against and how small I feel compared to the monsters I'm hunting. It's a constant reminder that I might end up in the ground next to Sloane if I'm not careful.

Cadence hands me a bouquet of flowers and we start our trek down the hallway.

"You should smile," Viola teases, pointing to her own pink lips. "It's your wedding day, not a prison sentence."

I stare numbly at her.

Slowly, her grin dims and she glances away.

Nurses and patients alike stop and stare at me. A few of them start clapping as if I'm some kind of hero.

You're all wrong. I'm a sell-out and I'm getting married to the prince of hell.

Nerves twist in my stomach, but I keep moving, emptying my mind of everything but two words.

For Sloane.

For Sloane.

For Sloane.

The sound of an argument snaps me out of my trance and I glance up. At the end of the hallway is the hospital chapel where, it seems, my wedding is going to take place.

But there's a man standing in front of it, barring the entrance.

"Get out of the way, man," Sol growls.

"You can't have a wedding in the chapel without special permission from the director."

"Did you not hear me?" Sol bears down on the guy.

He backs up but doesn't stop ranting. "That's public space. Sacred space. People use it to pray. You can't just take it over."

"We cleared it with the hospital director," Dutch snaps.

"I didn't hear anything about that." The man plants bony hands on his hips. "Weddings can only be held in the chapel by express permission and if either the bride or groom is terminal. I already checked hospice and no one reserved this space. I cannot allow you to block this chapel off for an unauthorized wedding."

Dutch curses and walks off, slapping his phone to his ear.

A worried crease appears above Cadence's eyebrow. "Wait here, Miss—Grey. I'll see what's going on."

"I can't believe this," Viola scoffs. "Why does every Cross wedding have to be so complicated? It's not like he saw the bride in her dress this time."

I barely hear her.

My eyes are on the exits.

Is this a sign? Divine intervention? Should I take this chance and run?

Someone shifts in my periphery. I notice Finn standing deeper in the hallway. As usual, he's on his phone and looking totally disconnected from everything going on.

Dutch stomps over, "The hospital director is out and he's not answering his phone."

Sol curses. "Zane just texted. Should I tell him what's going on?"

"You all need to leave before I get security," the protestor says, puffing out his chest now that he sees the boys are losing their steam.

I take a step toward the exits.

Sorry, Sloane. I'll find another way to get to Slavno.

Suddenly, Finn pushes off the wall and walks toward his brothers. He shows the protestor something on his phone and the man turns white as a sheet. He grabs the phone, mouth agape, and glances at each of us in terror.

A question mark in my eyes, I glance at Finn whose stoic face—as usual—betrays nothing.

Calmly, Finn stretches his hand out.

The protestor sets the phone gently in his palm and bows his head.

"Y-you kids have a good wedding." He wipes the sweat on his brow. "I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

As the guy hurries off, I walk closer to Finn. So do Dutch, Cadence, and Viola. Curiosity thickens in the air as we all crowd him.

"What was on your phone?" Viola asks, eyes wide.

"His girlfriend."

"Naked?" Cadence looks disturbed.

Finn gives her a dull look.

"Or not." Cadence withers behind Dutch.

Sol frowns. "His girlfriend? Why would that scare him?"

"It'd scare him if he has a wife," Dutch says flatly, looking at Finn for confirmation.

"A man who values sacred spaces that much values his privacy even more," Finn says.

Viola's jaw drops.

Cadence gives Finn a fearful look.

Sol barks out a laugh. "How did you know?"

Finn turns sharply, ignoring the question.

"Come on. Don't hold out on us," Sol begs, hurrying behind him.

Dutch glances at his phone. "We should move. Zane is about to bust a vein."

"He's right," Cadence says. "We don't know how long the police can stall Grey's mom."

The police? Mom? Did they have something to do with the police calling her today?

A thread of fear slips into my veins.

Viola squeals in excitement. "It's go time."

As if they'd rehearsed it, Dutch and Cadence stand on one side of the door.

Finn and Sol make a line on the other side.

They form a small aisle for me to walk through, shoulders back and eyes straight ahead.

Viola fusses with my train and veil as I take a step forward.

My fingers dig into my bouquet.

My heart pounds so hard I'm sure they can hear it.

What am I doing getting tangled up with this family?

Mom marrying Jarod Cross had nothing to do with me. It wasn't my choice. But this is different.

This is my choice.

This is personal.

Do I want to be tied to these dangerous boys, these princes who are powerful enough to dig out a stranger's darkest, deepest secrets in the span of one conversation? These kings who are ruthless enough to manipulate the police so they can move mom out of the way?

Oh, stop over-thinking. Don't you ever have any fun, Grey? Sloane appears again, skipping alongside me as I walk forward.

Only she would class stepping into a lion's den with viscous predators as fun.

The chapel doors creak.

Candles flicker in the dim room.

Zane is at the end of the aisle, wearing a black tux that looks like it was made of shadows and sin. One hand is bent at an angle, cradled in a black sling.

My breath catches.

He's... beautiful.

But this isn't about him. Or us.

I put one foot in front of the other.

For Sloane.

For better or worse.

For justice.

As the strains of classical music plays over hidden speakers, I walk down the aisle, eyes on the boy who will surely ruin me.