Jolie
Atlanta, GA
Two weeks later
It turns out two weeks is plenty of time to plan a wedding when money is no object. Who knew Ryder was loaded?
Okay, not loaded, but the man had worked for the CIA for several years and had put away every penny. With living at the gym, and not having a car payment—he’d paid cash for The Charger—Ryder had quite the nest egg set aside. We could live for years off what he had stored away, but he insisted that he was paying for the wedding since it was his two-week timeframe stipulation that had jacked up the cost.
We chose to host the wedding at Cruz and Lydia’s cabin on Lake Lanier, since most venues were filled up and impossible to secure so late in the game. We’d hired a decorator who had strung twinkling lights around the perimeter of the dock, and Ryder had had a gazebo made and brought in for the occasion.
Flowers sat in mason jars along the edge of the dock, and petals were strewn down the center aisle.
Ryder had asked me about the engagement ring, wanting to know if I’d like something different. I knew the ring was a fake, but it was special to me and I didn’t want to take it off.
“I like the fake one just fine,” I’d told him one night as we walked to a restaurant to meet my parents.
Ryder had stopped and turned me to face him.
“Jolie, the ring isn’t fake. It was the ring my father gave to my mother.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I realized that, even before Ryder had confessed his feelings even to himself, he’d given me something so precious and special. I flung my arms around him, pulling him tightly to me. My lips brushed his, and if we hadn’t had plans with my parents, I would have dragged him back to the dorm rooms right then.
My parents had been quite shocked that we’d decided to marry so quickly, which I’d expected, and I could feel their disapproval throughout the dinner. I was only twenty-four, and I had my whole life ahead of me, my mom had explained. Didn’t I want to finish college first?
What I hadn’t expected was Ryder’s response to their persistent doubt and questioning.
“Jolie is the smartest, wisest, kindest woman I know. If she wants to finish college, she can. If she wants to remain a part of the Shadow Force team, then I support her in her decision. But we are getting married. We’d love your blessing, but Jolie is old enough to make her own choices, regardless. And for some amazing reason, she’s chosen to spend her life with me. I don’t take that lightly, and I won’t stand by while you question her every decision.”
My eyes had welled with tears for the second time that night, and I’d thrown my arms around him, not caring that I was making a scene in the middle of the restaurant. My mother had had her hand over her heart, and my dad had worn an apology on his face. They’d explained that they did support me. They wanted me to be happy. And if Ryder made me happy—and it was obvious that he did—then we had their blessing.
A week later, and I was grateful for their presence at the wedding. My dad would walk me down the aisle, and my mom fussed over the simple gown that I’d chosen. It was satin, held up by two tiny straps that flowed into an A-line around my hips with an asymmetrical hemline. It was simple, no embellishing or lace trappings. Just a simple gown worn to celebrate a not-so-simple love.
I wore my mother’s veil, a thin band that held a long train that flowed all the way down the length of the dress, and my grandmother’s sapphire earrings. Something borrowed. Something blue. The gown was new, so the something new was covered. That just left the something old.
I wasn’t very superstitious, though, so I’d put the missing item out of my mind until moments before the ceremony.
Lydia had graciously allowed us the use of the small study downstairs in the cabin, and I was standing and adding the last-minute touches in front of the mirror. A swipe of lipstick. A dab under my eyes to make sure my mascara wasn’t running. A touch more powder at the still-fading bruises. It was hard to see them unless you knew they were there, though, and the makeup did wonders at hiding the worst of it. A knock sounded at the door.
I opened it to find Ryder standing there. I tried to slam the door in his face, but Ryder put his hand up to keep it from closing.
“You can’t see me before the wedding! It’s bad luck!”
Laughing, he tried to push on the door.
“No! I’m serious. You can’t see me.”
He sighed loudly, acting as if he was extremely put out, and he removed his hand. I shut the door.
“Okay, fine. But I have something for you. Can you at least crack the door open, and I’ll hand it to you?”
I did as I was told and reached my hand out, palm up, while Ryder placed a long, thin box on top.
I opened it, gasping at the contents.
“It was my mother’s.” A diamond tennis bracelet glistened on the red velvet lining. It had to be several carats and was stunningly beautiful. Almost antique in its design.
“It’s gorgeous. I can’t take this.”
“You don’t have a something old—right?”
“No, but—”
“Jolie, you’re going to be my wife in just a few short moments. What’s mine is yours. She’d want you to have it. My dad is here. He brought it. It was my mom’s, but it was her grandmother’s before that. It’s very old.”
I held the box out the door, and then held my wrist out. “Will you put it on me?”
I sniffed. The tears were going to be the death of my makeup.
Ryder’s fingers brushed the skin of my wrist as he fastened it, then his lips met the backs of my knuckles.
“See you at the altar.”
Shutting the door back, I took in the beautiful diamond bracelet, touched that Ryder had thought to give me something so precious to his family. It complemented my earrings and ring perfectly.
My dad knocked on the door next. “You ready?”
“You bet I am.”
We walked down the path lined with flower petals to the dock, where Ryder and the minister waited for me. Piper and Lydia had agreed to be my bridesmaids, while Levi, Cade, Cruz, and Oscar stood next to Ryder.
I barely noticed the small crowd, which included Dr. James Dickson and his wife Eleanor from Charleston. She hadn’t been the least bit surprised at the wedding invitation. Mario and Sylvia Reggiano were also there. She looked dazzling in her fitted red dress and heels, like someone out of a movie.
But I only had eyes for Ryder.
His hair was blond again, although still a little too short for my liking. He had it styled away from his face and looked stunningly handsome in his gray tux. The music started, and my dad walked me down the aisle until I came face-to-face with the man I loved. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Our vows were simple, and the whole ceremony only took a few minutes. The minister smiled as he said, “Ryder, you can kiss your girl.”
The audience laughed as Ryder dipped me backwards, covering my mouth with his. After longer than was appropriate, the minister cleared his throat, and Ryder chuckled as he let me go.
“I introduce to you—Mr. and Mrs. Ryder Blake.”
The guys hooted and cheered as Ryder took my hand and raced me down the aisle and up to the cabin. The reception would be on the wraparound deck and was already set up for our guests. Ryder pulled me into the small study and pressed me up against the wall. His hands ran up the length of my legs as he kissed me senseless.
“I’ve been waiting months for this.”
After the incident at the airfield, Ryder and I had spent the night in the hospital. One of his ribs was cracked but not broken completely through, and they’d wanted to keep an eye on him. I was kept in for observation, but besides a concussion and some contusions, I was fine. After we were released, he’d spent several days in D.C. with Levi searching for Stan Johnson, his CIA handler, as well as debriefing with Washington about Dmitriev and Los Caballeros. Johnson’s apartment had been empty, and no one had seen him in a couple of weeks.
When he’d returned, and we’d had dinner with my parents, they had insisted I come home and live with them so we could put the finishing touches on the wedding. I’d barely seen him, and we’d had no time to spend together. Not like we wanted to.
“They’re waiting for us out there.” I leaned my head back, giving him better access to my throat.
“I don’t care, Mrs. Blake. I don’t think I can wait another second to make love to you.”
He kissed his way down to the tops of my breasts and then back up again, finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. A knock sounded at the door.
“Go away!” we both called at the same time. We laughed together as Ryder pulled me away from the door and scooped me up in his arms before laying me down on the white, velvet sofa situated against the wall in the office.
He knelt on the floor beside me and lifted my skirt, finding the lace garter around my leg. “Nice. I think I’ll leave that on.”
“We don’t have much time.”
“We have all the time in the world, but for now, I’ll settle for a few minutes.”
His fingers traveled up my legs, his eyes gazing down at me with longing and desire. Covering me with his body, his mouth found mine again, and I forgot all about the wedding guests waiting for us on the other side of the door.
***
It was fairly obvious what we’d been up to, but besides the knowing smiles and a few innuendos thrown our way, no one really seemed to mind that we’d kept them waiting.
We cut the cake and made our toasts, and the whole night was perfect as we danced under the stars.
Ryder held me close, his arms wrapped around my waist, his nose nuzzling my ear. “I love you so much, Jolie. I promise to spend every moment making you happy.”
“You make me happy. Just you.”
I kissed him, losing myself for a moment in the feel of his lips on mine, wishing we’d cut the reception short and started the honeymoon early. Ryder twirled me around, spinning me out away from him, and then pulling me back to cradle against his chest.
A gunshot split the air, and everyone screamed.
Ryder pushed me behind him, his hand reaching for the gun at his waist, but it wasn’t there. He hadn’t felt the need to wear it on our wedding day. Clearly a mistake. A tall man with thinning red hair stood near the punch bowl, a gun in his hand that he was waving erratically.
“Who is that?” I whispered to Ryder.
“Stan Johnson.”
“Your handler?”
“Yes.”
“How did he find us?”
“I have no idea.”
Ryder took a step forward, and I held him back. “No. Please.”
“He’s here to talk to me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Ryder separated himself from the crowd, his hands raised to show he wasn’t armed.
“What are you doing, Johnson?”
Johnson was sweating profusely, his face red and blotchy, sweat rings under his armpits, staining his white button-up shirt. It was dirty, what appeared to be coffee stains and mustard stains dotting the front of it. It was obvious he hadn’t changed in several days. It was also clear the man hadn’t slept in at least that much time, possibly longer.
He was a man on the edge, and he was dangerous.
My parents were by my side in seconds, confusion on their faces. After all, Ryder and I worked for an MMA gym. What could possibly be going on?
“It’s over. It’s all over. And it’s all your fault.”
Johnson aimed the gun at Ryder, who took a step back. “Whoa, there, Johnson. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Johnson let loose a cackle that was reminiscent of Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Unhinged. Deranged. Mentally unstable. Volatile.
“Regret? Oh, it’s far past time for regret. You were supposed to die. And I was supposed to retire on the crap ton of money they paid me to get to you. But no—you and your stupid whore had to ruin everything. And there went my meal ticket.”
“We can work this out, Johnson. There’s still time.”
Johnson shook his head back and forth with so much force I thought it would pop off.
“No. There’s no more time. I’m a traitor. I’ll be tried as a domestic terrorist. They’ll kill me.”
“Maybe not. Maybe you can cut a deal.”
Levi, Cruz, Oscar, and Cade all surrounded Ryder, their guns raised and aimed at Johnson’s chest. Cade handed a gun to Ryder, who raised it as well.
“I’m screwed! So screwed!” Johnson paced restlessly, talking to himself, waving the gun around.
“Put the gun down, Johnson.” Levi spoke with calm authority as all five men made a line in front of the other guests. Piper and Lydia came to stand next to me, both taking my hands in theirs. I knew it was killing Piper not to have her gun, but she didn’t exactly have room in her dress. The woman had blossomed overnight and had barely been able to zip it up.
Johnson mumbled something then stopped abruptly and turned. He aimed the gun at me, just as Ryder screamed, “No!” Then, at the last moment, Johnson turned the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.
Screams rose up among the guests as all chaos broke loose. Washington, Levi, and the others rushed to Johnson’s body, while Ryder made a beeline for me. He drew me hard against his chest, squeezing me tightly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s over. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
I think the words were more for him than they were for me. I clung to him, grateful he was alive. Grateful I was alive.
A waiter brought a white tablecloth out and gave it to Washington, who covered Johnson’s body with it. The FBI and CIA arrived to process the scene, and we were ushered inside to wait. Instead of being whisked away to the swanky hotel Ryder had booked for us for our wedding night, we spent the rest of the evening waiting to give our statement about a man who’d committed suicide at our wedding. Not exactly the picture-perfect evening I’d imagined.
My parents had asked over and over what was going on, but I wasn’t sure what I could tell them. Finally, Levi came over and gave them part of the story.
“Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, I’m so sorry about tonight. Stan Johnson was a CIA handler. Ryder’s CIA handler. He and Jolie worked an undercover op for our security firm.”
“I thought you were a boxing gym,” my mother clarified, with confused eyes boring into mine.
“MMA, and, well, we are. But we also run security ops from there. It’s very important you keep this information to yourself. As you can imagine, the nature of what we do is confidential, and if the information were to fall into the wrong hands—well, as you can see, things can get deadly.”
“So, just a minute—our daughter works for the CIA?” My dad looked furious but also proud, if that was possible.
“No, sir. She works for us. She’s a trained operator.”
“Trained? But she hasn’t even finished college.” Ah, leave it to Dad to continue to bring up my failure in his eyes.
“Jolie has something you can’t learn in school. She’s smart, observant, a damned good fighter, and a fine operator.” I glowed under the praise, knowing Levi wasn’t just saying it for my parents’ benefit.
“I second that.” Henry Washington, presidential advisor and the person who gave us permission to move and operate, stood next to my dad, his hand outstretched for a shake. My dad took it.
“Aren’t you…?”
“Washington. Yes, I am.”
“Nice to meet you.”
My mom pulled me to the side and whispered in my ear. “That’s the president’s advisor.”
I grinned. “I know.”
“So, you—all this time? And the bruises—those weren’t from being mugged, were they?” I shook my head, clearing up the lie we’d told my parents during our dinner with them last weekend.
“Good grief, Jolie. This sure is dangerous. Don’t you think—” I gave her a pointed look, and she lifted her hands. “You’re right. It’s your life.” Then she pulled me in for a hug. “I’m proud of you for finding your own way. Making your own path. I never doubted you for a moment.”
I wasn’t sure I bought that last part, but it felt good to hear all the same.
It was two in the morning before Ryder finished up with the CIA. Washington had stepped in and pulled a few strings, releasing Ryder from further questioning until we returned from our honeymoon in two weeks.
I hugged my mom and dad as they left, and then we said our goodbyes to our SF family. Ryder took my hand and walked me out to his Charger.
“Where are we going now?”
“To the hotel. I called and told them we’d be late and to give us a late checkout.”
It was an hour’s drive back to Atlanta, and Ryder and I held hands the entire way, neither of us talking. Someone had shot themselves at our wedding reception. There was no way to overcome that.
But a part of me was just glad it was over. Johnson was dead. Dmitriev was dead. Igor was dead.
The Cabs were MIA. We had no leads on Rubio, Santos, or The Vicar. Something told me we hadn’t seen the last of them. Nikolai’s words rang in my mind.
Something terrible is coming to America. Her future will be destroyed. People will weep in her streets.
What did he mean? And was the threat gone, or was it tied to Los Caballeros?
I shivered, and Ryder squeezed my hand.
“What are you thinking about over there?”
“Just about what Nikolai said. I don’t think this is over yet.”
Ryder sighed. “Me neither.” He glanced over at me, and I saw the concern in his eyes.
“But let’s not talk about that now, okay? Let’s just enjoy our honeymoon.”
“Deal.”
Life as we knew it might be in danger, but as long as I had Ryder by my side, I knew everything would work out just fine.
I pulled his hand up to my lips and kissed his knuckles.
Ryder pulled off the next exit and parked the car on the side of a country road.
“What are we doing here?”
“Fulfilling one of my fantasies.”
He hooked his arms around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. He lowered the back of his seat, and I straddled his lap, my hands moving over his broad chest. His eyes glowed with love and promise.
He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me down to his lips, hovering there as he whispered, “I love you, Jolie Blake.”
“I love you, too.”