LINCOLN
With Ava in my arms again, it takes everything in me to let her go.
I have to, though. Officer Burns turned off the flickering lights on the top of his cruiser, but he’s out there. Someone has to go talk to him, and since I’m using my connections as leverage to force her into agreeing to marry me, I need to get out there.
I give myself a few more seconds. Stroking her hair, I have to stifle my shudder at just how fucking soft it is. If my cock hadn’t already gone hard just from touching her hand, her hair wouldn’t been enough to get me ready to fuck through a steel beam.
That’s why I purposely angle my hips away from her. Until we make it so that it’s ‘til death do we part, I can’t scare her. I also can’t give her any reason to change her mind. If she knows how badly I want to fuck her, especially after that Dragonfly bastard thought he could, she might actually take her chances with the crooked Springfield cops.
I’d never let her. She doesn’t know that, but even if she refused my offer, I’d help her.
Then I’d marry her anyway, and she’d just have to get used to it. At least, this way, she thinks she has a say in whether she agreed or not, and fuck if I’m not going to use that, too.
Fake marriage… Ava really thought she could get away with a fake marriage to me. No fucking way. I’ve always been an “all or nothing” kind of man, and now that I have my second chance ripe for the taking, I’m going to snatch it—and nothing is going to stop me.
But, first, I got to marry her. And in order to do that, I got to do my job. Already there are so many things I have to take care of, and the first one is going out to make sure Officer Burns can handle the cop side of what went down tonight. As for clean-up, I got guys for that.
Then I guess I’m going to go get hitched.
And, for the first time since I joined the life, I’ll do it by the book. I need my marriage to Ava to be legal. When so much of my life is spent on the other side of the line, when it comes to her, I won’t drag her into my darkness any more than I already have.
Thinking about the business phone in my pocket as I continue to hold her close, I smile to myself.
Good thing I have a judge or three who owes me a favor…
LINCOLN
Ava is sleeping when I finally let myself back into her house.
I’m not surprised. It’s well after midnight now, and her adrenaline from earlier must have finally worn off. The chamomile tea wouldn’t have helped, either, especially since I brewed two tea bags for her instead of one.
I used to do that all the time. One would help with her nerves, two would help her sleep, and I hadn’t been planning on forcing Ava to marry me when I was getting her tea shit ready for her. Oh, no. That spark of fucking brilliance came when I thought of walking out of her house, passing the problem onto a couple of my men, and returning to my empty bed, familiar hand, and a life where Ava Monroe was a ghost and not a living, breathing, gorgeous woman in front of me.
I told her. I told her what she was getting into. Who she would be marrying if she agreed to be mine. They don’t call me Devil for nothing, and if I have to coerce her into being my bride, I will.
Anything to have her. To hold her. To keep her close.
To protect her.
To fuck her.
To love her.
She’s mine. She always was, and she’s always been, and now that I finally have the excuse to tie her to me for life, damn right I’m going to do it.
As Devil’s wife, she’ll be untouchable. Even if Damien and his crew decide to go after her for what went down, he’ll have to go through me and the entire syndicate for a chance and that will never fucking happen.
After I told Burns what I needed him to do, I called up Royce. As my second, he’s the closest thing in this world to someone I trust, and now that Ava’s involved, that’s essential. I gave him his instructions, too, and proving once again that there’s no better ‘fixer’ in the game right now, Royce got me what I needed even before the rest of the clean-up crew he assigned started out from the West Side.
I was very clear. While Burns was keeping an eye on the legal side of things with the other cops, the clean-up crew wasn’t going to set foot inside of Ava’s house until we were already gone. They would take care of the body and the mess, though I don’t think she realizes that she won’t be coming back here.
Once she’s mine, I’ll lock her in my penthouse if that’s what it takes to keep her safe. Good thing that school’s out for the summer, because there’s no way in fucking hell she’ll be going anywhere that I don’t have eyes on her twenty-four/seven.
She’ll get over it. She’ll have to. Ava will figure out that I’m doing this all for her—for me, too, yeah, but mainly for her—whether she agrees with it or not.
I’m in charge of the syndicate. I’ll be in charge of this marriage, too, and the sooner she realizes that, the better.
Taking the dry cleaner’s bag from Royce, I tell him to park around the corner and wait in his car until I’m gone. The others are going to station themselves a couple of streets over, heading toward Ava’s house on foot, but Royce pulls up right behind Burns’s cruiser so that he doesn’t have to lug the bag through backyards and side streets with him.
Inside, I lay the bag down on the far end of the couch once I see that Ava is curled up on her side, snuffling softly, pillowing her cheek on her hands. She looks so innocent, and I almost think twice about what I’m doing.
Almost.
Leaning down at her side, I trace the edge of her cheek. “Time to get up, pet.”
Her eyelids flutter, a soft moan falling from her lips, as she continues to sleep.
I should let her. If I call him back and tell him to, Judge Callihan will clear his schedule and marry us in the morning. There’s no reason why I have to do this now. Ava gave her word. The girl I used to know would rather cut out her tongue than break a promise. She said she’d marry me, and I should let her get through the trauma of tonight before pushing her into this.
I should—but I’m not going to.
A little firmer, I pat her cheek. “Ava? Ava.”
She finally opens her eyes, staring up at me with that same dazed look in her eyes. For a moment, I get the feeling that she doesn’t recognize me, before she says in a voice rough with sleep, “Link? You’re back?”
Yes, pet. And now that I have you with me, you’ll never be away from me again…
“It’s time to go.”
She starts to sit up, even as she asks, “Where are we going?”
“Out of the house. I’ve got a crew coming and we shouldn’t be here for it.”
“Joey,” she breathes out. She closes her eyes. “It wasn’t a nightmare, was it?”
The sooner she understands that, the better. “No.”
“But what about—”
“Don’t worry about any of it,” I tell her, taking her hand again. I’m already addicted to the feel of her hand in mine, skin to skin, and I can’t fucking wait until I get this woman naked. “While we’re gone, my cop’s got this covered.”
“Your cop?”
“He’s on my payroll,” I explain. That should be enough. “He’s going to stay parked out front. Anyone who heard anything and is still up might be curious if they see the cruiser, but he knows how to handle them if they start asking questions. My guys will take care of the trash in your house. As for us,” I add, using her hand to pull her to a standing position again, “we have an appointment.”
“An appointment,” Ava echoes. “Isn’t it like two in the morning?”
It’s a quarter to one, but that doesn’t matter. “Exactly, which is why we shouldn’t keep the judge waiting.”
He will. The entire Springfield court is either in my pocket or Damien’s, and Judge Callihan is one of mine. For the amount that I’ve already lined his with, he’ll stay up all night if I tell him to, and he’ll do it with a smile on his grumpy, old face.
Of course, Ava doesn’t know that—and I’m not about to enlighten my pretty little bride to that fact.
“Judge… I’m sorry. I’m so tired that none of this is making sense to me.”
I know, pet. I know, and while that wasn’t my intention, I’m not going to apologize for it, or not use it to my advantage.
“You can nap in the car. But first…” I grab the dry cleaner bag containing the white dress in Ava’s size that Royce managed to come up with and offer it out to her. “Go get ready. Pack a bag with whatever you think you’ll need for a couple of days, then put this on. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”
“Ready?” she asks. “Ready for what?”
I give her a predatory grin, one I absolutely mean.
“For our wedding.”
