Page 31 of Sworn to Defend
Hannah was numb when she passed the letter to Hunter. He read it silently, then looked up at her. “Your instincts were right. They’re not letting her leave.”
“What could they possibly do to stop her if she just got up and left the venue tonight?”
Hunter shook his head. “I wish I knew, but I agree with her. It has to be tonight. I don’t want your parents to know you had any involvement. You, me, and Collin will go through the night as planned. Silver and Iron will make Vivienne disappear and no one will know you had anything to do with it. Don’t worry, Hannah. We’ve extracted hostages in far more hostile situations than a rehearsal dinner. Everything is going to be fine.”
*
Nerves were twisting in her belly six hours later when Hunter pulled the rental car up at the venue. Her intuition was screaming that tonight was not going to go as planned. They’d spent the afternoon playing in the pool, because there was no way she was getting to the venue more than an hour early, regardless of how much time Regina thought she needed to look up to family standards. She glanced at Hunter, then in the rearview mirror at Collin’s profile in the back seat. Her boys looked charming and utterly miserable in their suits. She preferred them in worn jeans and T-shirts, comfortable and smiling. After tonight, they wouldn’t have any need to wear them again. Hunter stopped in front of the doors and a maître d’ came out with a tray holding a single flute of champagne.
“Okay, you two. I’ll see you soon,” she said with a shaky breath.
“Remember, everything is just as it should be. Collin and I are going to come in and play a round of UNO in the lobby. We’re not leaving.” He leaned in and kissed her before the car door was opened. The garment bag was taken from her hands by an attendant and replaced with the champagne. She had a feeling she was going to need the liquid courage, but then she had the fleeting thought that Rochelle might’ve spiked it with something. God, how bad was that? Being able to entertain the idea that someone might drug her at a family event. She gripped the smooth banister as she was led upstairs to the private room where the other women were getting primped.
“Right this way, miss.” The attendant opened the French doors at the top of the stairs and pulled back the heavy drapes. Some of the women in the bridal party wore robes and were in various stages of hair and makeup, while others were already dressed in blush-colored gowns so embellished with beads that fractured rainbows burst over the walls as the light hit the women’s curves. Vivienne was in the center of it all, smile overly bright and forced. She stood, and her dress shimmered with the movement. Unlike the bridesmaids’ dresses that hugged the hips and thighs before flowing outward, Vivienne’s beaded corset stopped at her natural waist and poured into yards of silk flower appliqués. She was simply breathtaking, but the fact that this was being forced on Vivienne soured in Hannah’s stomach. She cast her what she hoped was an expression of understanding. If they had a moment alone, Hannah would reassure her that she’d received the note.
Rochelle sauntered forward and gestured for Hannah to sit, studying her face. “I’m so sorry about the hotel room mix-up.” Her smile turned predatory and she moved on, compulsively checking the women’s hair and makeup. Two stylists crowded around and she closed her eyes as they misted and sprayed, brushed and polished. She was getting ready to jump out of the seat when they finally leaned back with satisfied smiles. Hannah knew they were going to catch a rash of shit the moment she glanced in the mirror. Her skin was glowing, her eyes illuminated, but to her surprise they’d done nothing to hide her head-to-toe cascade of freckles. They’d blown out her hair in soft waves, much like Vivienne’s.
“You are so lucky,” one of the stylists gushed. “Freckles are so in right now.”
She caught a glance at Rochelle in the mirror. She had her arms crossed over her chest and looked downright murderous.
“Dress time.” The stylist smiled. “We’ll get you corseted up right in here.”
It took both stylists to lift the dress over her head. The fabric must’ve weighed twenty pounds with glass beads clinging to every inch of the sheer tulle. She inhaled slowly and exhaled through her lips. Tonight was going to suck, but tomorrow she’d be going back to Virginia with Hunter and Collin. She had to believe that Iron and Silver would be successful in helping Vivienne.
Chapter Sixteen
“UNO!” Collin shouted and threw down his second-to-last card.
“You’re kicking my butt today.” He certainly wasn’t letting the kid win, but he was distracted. Every time he heard the slightest sound, he was looking over his shoulder, hoping it was Hannah.
“Maybe you forgot how to play.” Collin’s smile widened as Hunter had to reach over to the draw pile and pull out four cards before he found a green.
“That’s entirely possible.” They’d found themselves a table with two chairs in the hall, overlooking the parking lot. He wanted to see every person who arrived and left. He thought a rehearsal dinner was supposed to be small, but as guests began to arrive he realized how wrong he was. Drivers lined up, waiting their turn to hand their cars off to the valets.
“Never seen so many Aston Martins in one place outside of a Bond movie,” Silver said into his earpiece.
He merely grunted. “More guests than I thought there’d be.”
“Better cover for us,” Iron piped up.
“Are you talking to Silver and Iron?” Collin asked as both men chuckled through the communication system.
“Yeah. How’d you know?” He thought he’d been careful to word his responses like absent statements, but when Collin was paying attention, he didn’t miss much.
“We played with the earpieces yesterday all around the hotel. They’re not for other people to know about.”
“All around the hotel? Nice, guys,” he muttered under his breath. “And, Collin, you’re entirely right. These are only for us to know about.”
Collin threw down his remaining card and grinned. “That’s five dollars, Branch.”
“At least we weren’t teaching him how to gamble,” Silver said. They were parked outside in the SUV, waiting for their chance to run in and grab Vivienne. It was up to him to find them an opening.
“I see Hannah’s parents. They’re coming up the main staircase,” Iron noted. They’d been looking at pictures of the family online that afternoon, hoping to identify the key players. They cleaned up the cards and stood up just as Hannah’s mother and father rounded the corner.
“Collin, dear.” Unlike earlier, Agatha Day’s voice was infused with saccharine, and it was just as unsettling as her clipped authoritarian performance from this morning. A trio of violinists had set up by the entrance and were playing classical music.
“Aren’t you going to give your grandmother a hug?” She gave Collin a smile, but either too much Botox or her natural disposition had stripped the expression of warmth.