Flame and Ink: An Anthology (Happy Ever After #1)(2)

And by everything, Sassy meant everything.

The flowers, Sassy’s dress, the venue, her makeup, every-f*cking-thing.

And Sassy had gone along with it with a damn smile on her face because that bitch would one day be her child’s grandmother. Her kids needed family.

Only Sassy had a feeling she was horribly wrong about that. Her kids might need family, but there was no way Sassy would be able to let her children near that vile woman or her friends.

She hadn’t even told her men that she’d hated every moment of their wedding preparations. It had taken so much of her time, she hadn’t even seen them every day. She’d hidden her feelings from her loves, and now she was paying the price.

She knew they thought something was wrong, but perhaps they just thought it was bridal jitters. Except they hadn’t had sex in over a month.

A month.

She didn’t know if the two of them had been with each other in that month, but she hadn’t slept with either of them—together or separately. The fact that she hadn’t had sex with them, and didn’t even know if they’d been with each other, just told her what a giant mistake she was making.

She wanted to marry her men.

Just not like this.

“Looks like you’ve moved up in the world.”

Sassy gripped the curtains on either side of her. That voice. That f*cking voice. What the hell was he doing here?

Of course, he’d be here to try and ruin today.

“Get. Out.” She bit out each word, forcing herself not to turn and throw something at him. The only thing near her was a vase that probably cost more than her car, but she’d throw it if she had to.

“Is that any way to talk to your old man?”

She turned then, staring at the man who’d helped to give her life…then stepped back and did nothing to raise her. He’d put her down, tried to mold her into the perfect society daughter with no sense of self, no sense of anything—just someone for another rich man to have on his arm.

She hated this man. She’d left the fold of his society, and now with marrying Ian, she was strolling right back in.

But it would be on her terms…

Was it?

She pushed that errant thought away. She’d deal with this wedding and Ian’s parents in a moment. First, though, she needed to deal with the * in front of her. When her father had let the news outlets know his whore of a daughter was shacking up with Ian of the New York Steeles, as well as a mechanic in some form of wicked, demon-loving orgy, she hadn’t been able to confront him.

Her men had done that.

Of course, she’d been f*cking pissed that she hadn’t been able to do anything at the time. But now her father was back.

There would be no stopping Sassy this time.

She ran a hand down the dress she hated, the overflowing tulle and handcrafted lace far too big for her, far too ostentatious. “You were specifically not invited.”

“My daughter is getting married. Of course, I’m here,” her father said simply. He smiled, and she wanted to smack the smile right off his face. “Of course, I wanted to know which one you picked. Glad you picked the one with the most money. But since you’re a detail-orientated whore anyway, I figured that’s the one you’d choose. Now you have your little cabana boy on the side.”

She hadn’t known she’d moved closer to him until she felt the pain in her fist. Her father cried out as he fell, clutching his eye. Since he was down, she kicked him in the nuts with her very pointy, very expensive shoes. She might hate the dress, but she loved the shoes.

Her father screamed again, and she snarled. “Get the f*ck out of my life, you piece of trash. If you ever say my name or talk about my men again, I’ll gut you where you stand. You hear me? You think I didn’t learn a thing from living on the streets when I left the hell you called home? Think again, little man. I’ll f*ck you up. Now get out of my sight before I get really mad.”

“Holy shit,” Rafe said from the doorway, looking far too sexy in his tux. “Holy f*cking shit.”

She raised her chin, her chest heaving. She loved Rafe with all of her heart, and if he helped her just then, she’d love him even more. Maybe even give him a nice wedding night blowjob. “Think you can help me take out the trash?”

One of the loves of her life winked—though she saw the rage beneath the surface. He wanted a piece of her father, she could tell. While she’d told her father she’d gut him, she didn’t want Rafe to end up in jail for murder. “Hell, yeah, I can help. Have I told you lately that I love it when you’re feisty?”

She stepped over her father’s prone form and pulled at her dress so it wouldn’t touch the piece of filth on the floor before reaching up to cup Rafe’s cheek. “I love you, Rafe,” she whispered. “So f*cking much.”

His eyes filled with understanding, and he lowered his head to brush his lips over hers. “I love you, too, darling. Now, let’s take care of this *.”

“Just don’t get blood on my dress,” she said simply. “It cost a mint.”

He rolled his eyes and grinned, even though the anger and hurt warring in his eyes broke her. “Anything for you, babe.”

He said that, but did he mean it? Because now that she’d broken her father’s nose and probably his nuts, she had a feeling she was finally strong enough to make a change.