This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,116

Lance for good this time. I choked before. I couldn’t bear to hurt Stone after losing my own father, but this is something else entirely, right?

Stone’s dad is actually hurting him. He’s ruining his life. According to Cole, he’s even hired people to do this to us. That’s probably why Lance arranged for his son to get married today, so he would be safely away from all the traps they left.

Well, if he’s as good as they say he is, then he must know we got out. I wonder what he fucking thinks of that?

I don’t hesitate in my response. One word will suffice. Yes.

39

Cole’s guys park a quarter mile down the road from the Jacobs’ mansion. “Stay behind us,” the one who sat on the passenger side grunts as we approach the gate that perimeters the grounds. I can’t believe his family’s acreage starts this far away, but it does.

We crouch low, running as fast as we can, using the wrought iron as cover. They don’t look behind to see if I’ve followed which makes me realize they know I will.

Not a single part of me thinks I should wait at the car. Stone’s in there, and he hasn’t answered our phone calls all morning. His best friend was nearly decapitated for fuck’s sake. Shit isn’t right.

We approach the main entrance on foot. No cars are lined up like last time, and I wonder if we’re too early for the wedding or too late. The guy in the lead peaks around the corner. A bang splits the air, and he quickly moves back, using the bush we’re hiding behind as cover.

I freeze. The dude in front of me yanks me down.

“Fucker shot at me,” a voice growls. The lead guy rolls out of the hiding space, bringing his gun up and popping off two shots before he gets up, dusts his pant legs off, and motions for us to follow him.

I can’t believe my eyes. That was some ninja shit right there. I fall in line behind the gang member in front of me and spot two bodies lying on the ground. “Code?” the first guy asks. No one answers him as far as I can tell, but he punches in a code anyway. I study him and find a small black earpiece emerging from his right ear.

Duh. Of course.

The gate opens, and we walk through. I eye the grounds suspiciously. Cars aren’t lining the driveway. No music. Nothing.

“Stay with us,” a voice grunts.

Where the fuck else am I going to go?

Instead of running hunched over like they did before, the guys stroll in with their shoulders pulled back. Ninja dude with the earpiece opens the same fence door I went through before.

The edge of a white dress skirts into view, and it doesn’t take us long for the whole picture to open up before us. Cole stands in front of Stone and Marissa who are coupled together under an archway of big pink flowers. White folding chairs dot the garden, some of them occupied, some of them not. I’m musing over how few attendees there are when I notice the body on the ground between the bride and groom.

“There’s the guest of honor,” Cole says, smiling at me. I’ve seen him in a lot of situations now, and he never looks this scary unless we’re in the middle of shit like this. I get that same ice-hard pit in my stomach, but this time, his crazed stare isn’t directed at me. It’s directed at Lance Jacobs. “The officiant didn’t take our objection seriously, but you object to this sham wedding, don’t you, Dakota Wilder?”

“Why would I give a shit about what a poor slut thinks?” Lance barks.

Cole sneers at the already bloodied face of the elder Jacobs. He marches toward him, putting his thumb right over the bullet hole I made and pressing down. Lance cries out, falling to his knees. “I told you to keep your mouth shut about her.”

I swivel around. Rissa is silently crying at the makeshift altar. Her parents are holding one another’s hand very tightly. There are a few other people I don’t recognize, but each one of them appears to be both poised and scared. I bet they don’t deal with people like Cole very often. He’s malicious and uncaring.

“Come up here, Dakota,” Cole calls out.

Cole’s guys who accompanied me here flank me, and I walk toward Cole on shaky legs. The glint in his eyes that stares back at me tells