Keep Me (Rebel Hearts Heists #2) - M. Sinclair Page 0,77
washes over me, my breath catching as the sound of a gun’s safety clicking off has me paling. Alicia won’t meet my gaze and as I turn to face the gunman her soft words echo through the space.
"I'm sorry, Sloane."
No words can describe the terror I’m feeling as my knees buckle, and I grab onto the vanity in hopes of trying to keep myself afloat from the insanity.
"Sloane." A voice from my worst nightmares echoes., "It's time to come home."
Pierce. Fucking Pierce.
Royce
Something here is very, very wrong. Call it intuition but I have a horrible feeling and it revolves around Sloane’s sexy ass not being here next to me. I’m sitting on one of the chairs lined up for the ceremony and I can feel the others are on edge as well. I squeeze my fist slightly, my knuckles cracking as I look around.
"Where is Sloane?" River voices, sounding concerned.
"With my mother," Blaine says looking confused, because River was literally there when that occurred.
"Your mother is back there," Kaden states looking over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to see that the bride is in fact standing in the back laughing and talking with a group of people including her soon-to-be husband. Isn’t that supposed to be bad luck? Then again, they live for goddamn bad luck. The two of them together are bad luck incarnate.
"I am going to go see what's going on." Blaine stands up as my eyes track toward a flash of pink. The exact same pink of Sloane’s dress. What the hell is she doing over there? Without saying anything, I stand and cross the deck towards the back looking out at the expansive shoreline. I frown tilting my head as a head of dark hair and a pink form fitting dress stands out to me.
I almost go to tug her toward me, wondering why she’s walking around by herself instead of in the safety of the bridal room … but then I realize that it fucking isn’t her.
That’s not Sloane.
I’m obsessed with the woman. I know her every mannerism and I stay up a lot of nights just staring at her. It’s completely creepy. I also can’t help it, I’ve never loved a woman like I love Sloane and never will. She’s unique and one hundred percent the woman I want to be with forever. So when I tell you this isn’t her? You better fucking believe it isn’t.
“Sloane?” I test the water.
When the woman turns I’m taken aback by how fucking similar they look. I mean everything is off about the woman and I don’t find myself getting hard just by her damn presence, but … damn it’s sort of fucking creepy how much they look alike. The woman’s green eyes, clearly contacts and not nearly as unique as my girl’s unique shade of jade green, widen as if she didn’t expect to see anyone. As if she’s been hiding.
What the hell is going on here?
I look back toward the others hoping that I’m just going crazy. Hoping that maybe she’ll appear and this is some weird bridesmaid that we didn’t expect.
But no. She isn’t there.
So where the fuck is our girl?
Blaine
“You’re feeling sick?” I ask my mother. Her skin has a slight sheen to it and she’s shaking. I don’t doubt that she feels sick, that was never a question in my goddamn mind. But it’s very unusual for my mom to act like this … unless she feels guilty. Yeah. Something is fucking wrong here.
“Yes.” She smiles stiffly, her shoulders set uncomfortably as if she is trying to not pass out. “Your sweet girlfriend went out of her way to go back to the mainland and find me some medicine.”
I mean don’t get me wrong, I don’t doubt for a second that she would do something like that. Sloane is sweet to her core. Kaden makes a worried noise as his watch beeps alerting him to something clearly important. Isn’t that the trackers we have on the mics?
Instantly, I feel stupid knowing we could contact her on the mic.
River shakes his head and the blood drains from my face. What the hell? We can’t reach her by that either?
“It sounds like it’s been fucking damaged,” Kaden snarls, tapping his ear slightly not giving a fuck about who heard.
Royce appears out of goddamn nowhere. “I just ran into a fucking doppelgänger of our girl. Something is wrong—what?” His sharp demand dies in his throat because of the look that we’re offering him.