Guns and Roses (70 page)

“Man, you’re dumb as a buggy of bricks if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” Bobbie Faye said, and his arm clenched hard around her stomach as he yanked and she winced.

“Don’t hurt the baby!” several voices yelled and even Josh paused, confused.

“Baby?” Bobbie Faye asked. “What baby?” No one would meet her gaze and Josh tried to yank her back another step, the knife at her throat slacking off a bit as he looked for the doorway behind him, looking for cops. And seeing the crowd pressing in, instead. He had a way out—no one was going to shoot at him and risk shooting into the crowd. He might get away with this.

“You tell them to back off!” he yelled to Trevor. “I got your woman and apparently, your kid. I’ll cut her throat, if y’all try to take me. Might as well do her, man, go down fighting. All the same to me.”

Then
her kid
and
baby
clicked, finally, into place… she was
pregnant
and her eyes fell on Trevor, on his terrified expression. What the fuck? “Seriously?”

She eyeballed everyone and gave Ce Ce the grizzled
you’d better be joking
evil eye, and Ce Ce threw up her hands and said, “Hon, I’m good, but I’m not
that
good. This wasn’t me!”

Bobbie Faye turned that glare on Trevor, who looked… sheepish. If there was ever an expression she would never, in a quibillion years, expect to see on her husband’s face, the guy who had killed people, who would do it again in a heartbeat, who could rain down vengeance like the hand of God… it would be fucking
sheepish
.

“You
knew
I was
pregnant
and you
didn’t freaking tell me?
”

“I was going to,” he hedged, in that kind of calm voice a bomb squad guy uses when he’s trying to decide whether to cut the red wire or the blue one and it’s a 50/50 chance he’s probably making the wrong choice.

“When?”

“Sundance, we have a couple of other more important things going on around here,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“When?” she asked again, in that
you either tell me now or forever regret it
voice. Even Josh knew not to interrupt this one.

“After the wedding when you weren’t stressed out and emotional.”

“I haven’t been stressed out!”

“Well, you have. A little,” he added quickly, holding his hands up in that patented pathetic Male Attempt To Calm The Female Before Her Head Spins Off Her Body. That shit just
never
worked. Like she needed to calm fucking down. They all knew! They
knew!

“It’s okay to be a little emotional when your hormones are out of whack,” Trevor added and That. Just. Did. It.

“I have
not
been stressed or out of whack or…” She felt the tears brimming again. “Or
emotional!
” And without thinking, she
flipped
the asshole holding her, over her shoulder, just the way Trevor had taught her. Fake-priest Josh slammed very satisfyingly against the marble floor, his grunts echoing off the wall. “And as for
you
, you stupid fuck”—she kicked him, hard, in the balls—“that’s the second time you grabbed me. Don’t you
ever
grab me again or I’ll rip your heart out.” And she kicked him one more time, just because, and every man in the place winced. He pulled up into a tight ball of pain, sobbing, as Riles kicked the knife away and held a gun on him.

“Please get me away from her,” Josh begged, his eyes closing as she started to kick him again just for good measure, but Trevor pulled her back as the cops converged.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to kick a man in the balls in church,” Nina said, eyeing the idiot now crying on the floor. “Especially if you’re Catholic.”

“I’m lapsed. Besides, what are they gonna do? Ex-communicate me?”

~*~

Almost two hours later, after the real priests had been found (locked in a closet) and attended to, questions from the police were answered, and almost everyone had left the Cathedral, Bobbie Faye and Trevor stood alone in the back of the sanctuary. The flowers had wilted, her dress was a disaster, Trevor’s tux was rumpled, and yet… it had almost been beautiful. She gazed up the aisle, her head on Trevor’s chest, and squeezed her eyes shut to hide the tears. He kissed her temple. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted this. Hadn’t been willing to admit it to herself, and now, it was destroyed. Over.

“I’m sorry, Sundance.”

“No, don’t you dare. It’s not your fault, Trevor. I’m just glad we didn’t let your mother stop the real deal. She can’t take that away.”

Bobbie Faye sucked it up; she wasn’t going to let him know what this had cost her. He’d already been brutalized enough for a lifetime today; he didn’t need this extra burden.

Instead, she leaned back and smiled and hoped he saw the love there. And she slid his palm around to her stomach and said, “Take us home.”

~*~

It was dark in the Ritz’ hotel room in the early morning hours, the lights from the Quarter filtering through the gauzy curtains. She’d dropped into bed when they first arrived, absolutely beyond exhausted, but now… now in the dark, high above the busy streets below, she felt an overwhelming sadness, and she tried to steel herself against it.

Somehow, Trevor knew.

It didn’t take much to awaken him, and wordlessly, soundlessly, he rolled on his side, skimming a light touch down her cheek, across her chest and then down to her stomach, where their baby slept.

Their baby
.

Her breath caught in her chest, hitched a little at the thought.

“Shhhhhh,” he whispered, “it’s going to be okay.”

He slid down in the bed where he kissed her just below her naval, settling himself between her legs there, murmuring things she couldn’t quite make out, doling out more kisses as he worked his way down and then took her, quickly, suddenly, chasing away all the hard thoughts for that endless oblivion that only he knew how to create, his mouth hot, her fevered body writhing under his touch, his tasting, his magic. He pushed her over the edge, until the earth exploded and the Universe wept and then he moved fast up her body and took her again, hard, fierce, kissing her, the taste of her on his lips, the two of them joined.

“Look at me,” he demanded when she closed her eyes, tears leaking out. “Look at me. At us.”

She did, and then there was only him in the entire world, nothing else.

“You are mine,” he said, taking her harder, kissing her again as he made his point. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” she said, fisting her hands in his hair, kissing him back. “Yours.”

She lost track of where he ended and she began and loved him through the rough panic that rose again when he remembered how close they had come to losing each other… and this time, losing so much more. Loved him through the need and the hurt he’d have never shown to another soul on the planet, the cuts that he’d endured that day at the hands of his own mother, the person who’d brought him into this world. If they never had anything else, if nothing else in the world worked out, she knew they’d have this. They’d have each other. Hours later, when they lay entwined, she thought,
This is enough. It is all I need.

~*~

That morning, she woke up in the dreamy light filtered through the silk sheers of the penthouse suite. It took Bobbie Faye a moment to realize where she was and that she was alone in the bed.

She glanced over and instead of seeing Trevor, the way she usually saw him—already at a desk with one of his electronic gizmos and his laptop open—she saw her wedding dress.

Well, not
her
wedding dress, but a duplicate, somehow even more stunning than the original. She gaped, scrubbed her eyes, and yes, there was a dress there, glinting in the morning sun. As she approached it in awe, she realized that there were hundreds of tiny, beautiful crystals and pearls sewn to the handmade lace of the bodice and skirt; it was the couture version of the one she’d chosen. She’d picked an unusual dress—a simple bodice of mostly lace that trailed down her arms, with a white silk bustier with an empire waistline and beautiful fall of silk for a skirt. The lace overlay was almost backless—coming up to her throat in the front, and it was at once old-fashioned and modern, an old west type of princess fairy-tale dress.

Her hand at her mouth trembled. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. What Trevor must’ve planned, all along. It astonished her how he always somehow knew what she needed before she knew herself.

There was a beautiful card on the chair next to it, and she opened it and in Trevor’s handwriting, it said, “You are everything that is right in my life. Would you do me the honor of letting me show the world how much I love you? Will you marry me? (again)”

~*~

There were hairdressers and make-up artists for both her and Nina, and a few hours later, a beautiful horse-drawn carriage carried them through the Quarter to the church. This time, riding from the Ritz, they passed through much more of the Quarter than just the block they’d ridden the night before. What stunned her were the people throwing white roses in their path—baskets and baskets of white roses apparently supplied by Trevor. They shouted how beautiful she was and good luck and God bless. She had to hold on tight to Nina’s hand to make it through without crying.

Cam stood at the outside of the church and helped her down. He gave her a hug and a smile; it didn’t light up his eyes, but she loved him for it, just the same. He helped Nina down and they entered the vestibule, as music swelled inside.

“Are you ready?” Cam asked, and she nodded, her eyes so filled with tears, she had to hold on tight.

Cam nodded to two young altar boys, who opened the massive inner doors to the sanctuary as the wedding song played on an amazing grand pipe organ and the crowd stood.

She stopped, dead still. It was standing room only, in a church that could easily seat a thousand.

Everyone she knew was there. Her dad, wiping his eyes and nodding. She hadn’t thought she wanted him there… wouldn’t have asked him… but there was a joy in her heart that he cared enough to be there, and that, for the first time, ever, she saw his emotion in his eyes. Beside her dad were her aunts, all smiles. The girls from the store. Her sister and brother (still crying). Benoit, Cam’s best friend and partner on the force—still on crutches, but walking again, recovering from being shot, but smiling at her, tipping her an imaginary top hat. Every neighbor, friend, and patron of Ce Ce’s Cajun Outfitter and Feng Shui Emporium. And then there was Ce Ce and Monique, both squalling in the front, Ce Ce with her hand over her heart. Her surrogate mom, sitting in an honored spot.

Stacey joined them, dressed in her gorgeous blue dress and proceeded to bounce and race back up the aisle, tossing out white rose petals from her overflowing basket, binging a few people on the nose with them in her enthusiasm.

Hundreds of people. There.

For her.

Her two best friends, walking with her down the aisle.

And at the end of that aisle: Trevor.

She knew what would be written about her, now: “And the bride wore drool.”

How could she not? He was absolutely beyond beautiful. The man who loved her, just the way she was. Who understood her, even when she didn’t. Who wanted for her what she secretly wanted for herself, even when she wasn’t brave enough to say it out loud.

It was him. Brilliant, thoughtful, stunning man. He fascinated her, made her laugh, challenged her, encouraged her. Believed in her. He was everything she’d ever wanted and hadn’t really understood, not fully, not until this moment. She looked around this Cathedral and realized he was giving her what she so very much needed in that desperate place in her heart, in that place where a child had been abandoned by the drinking and then the death of her mom and the indifference of an absent dad: commitment. Joy. Laughter. Love. He was giving her the ability to show everyone, in public, what they meant to each other.

Mine
.

She wanted to fly to him. To promise to love, honor, and try not to blow him up for the next sixty or seventy years.

And so, she did.

*****

TONI MCGEE CAUSEY

Toni McGee Causey is the author of the critically acclaimed and nationally bestselling "Bobbie Faye" novels—an action/caper series set in south Louisiana. While pursuing an MFA in Screenwriting, Toni had scripts optioned by prominent studios. Toni began her career by writing non-fiction for local newspapers, edited
Baton Rouge Magazine
, and sold articles to places like
Redbook
and
Mademoiselle
. Visit Toni at
www.tonimcgeecausey.com
for news on the next trilogy (and vote!) and to follow her on Facebook and Twitter.