Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Right then. Let’s skip to the good parts, shall we?” I look at Paul. “Do you, Paul Somerset, take this woman, Elizabeth Purcell, to be your lawfully wedded wife—”
He grins at the “lawfully” part, since he knows this is fake. I just smile back.
“In sickness and in—”
“I do,” he says quickly.
“Lovely,” I smile back and turn to Lizzie. “And do you, Elizabeth Purcell, take this man, Paul Somerset, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“Yep.”
It’s taking a lot to hold back the grin, but I at least halfway manage.
“Well then!” I smile widely. “Then by the power vested in me by the Universal Life Church online—”
Paul’s smile fades. “Wait, wh—”
“I hereby lawfully,” I crow. “Declare you man, and wife!”
There are some small claps from the Somersets and the smiling town clerk, and I grin widely as I lean close and grip Paul’s hand.
“Congratulations, Paul,” I hiss through my smile. “You’re fucked.”
That one little detail Paul overlooked? It was that he assumed all of me was a bullshit act. Except, it’s not. Except, I’m actually ordained, which means I just actually married him to Lizzie Purcell.
…Which means his fund and his whole scheme just went down in flames, per the contractual wording of it.
“What the fuck!” he roars, his face bright red.
“What?” Lizzie hisses.
“We’re married!” Paul yells. “We’re actually fucking married!”
“Wait, what?!” Lizzie screeches. “What?! No! No fucking way!” She whirls on Paul and starts slapping him. “Where’s my fucking money, Paul?!”
Paul whirls on me, and he throws the world’s pussiest punch, which I easily dodge. The cops are staring at each other trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but I just smile at them as I dodge another weak-assed hook.
“If you look in the briefcase in Mr. Somerset’s car,” I growl. “You’ll find everything you need.”
“Lord help me,” Jeb says quietly and steps forward with a hard look in his eyes. “Mike,” he nods at the more senior cop. “My son is trying to shake down the town. His church is a scam.”
Paul’s jaw drops. “Dad!” he roars. “Are you fucking serious?! Are you fucking serious?!”
He lunges at his father, but I grab him and yank him back. He whirls and crashes into me, and we both topple to the ground.
“You think you’re taking me down!” he screeches. “Well reap the fucking whirlwind, preacher!”
He roars as the cops yank him away from me, twisting in their arms.
“You want a con man!” he yells. “Well there’s one!” he grins triumphantly as the Somersets turn to look at me in confusion.
“Oh, he’s a fraud, alright! Call Lockton, South Dakota! Or Jessup, West Virginia! Ask how old that girl was in Worthington, Minnesota! Or hell, look in his fucking trailer for all the snake oil shit he’s selling!”
He cackles as Jeb, Christina, and more importantly Delilah’s faces turn white in horror.
“He’s a huckster, you dumb fucks! He’s a cheat, and a con man, and a liar! He’s a fucking parasite!” He grins wickedly at me as I snarl, my lips curling.
“Oh, yeah, and dad?” he turns to smile at his parents. “And he’s screwing Delilah.”
I snap. With a roar, I lunge at him and tackle him to the ground. And my hooks are not the pussy ones his are. He whines as my fist crashes into his jaw, again and again before the cops haul me off of him. I’m yelling. Jeb is yelling. Christina is crying, and Delilah is sobbing as they haul both Paul and I away to a police car parked outside the tent.
The cuffs go over my wrists behind my back, and I’m roaring for her as they shove me into the back of the car.
Shit.
Chapter Seventeen
Gabriel
Kane slowly whistles through the phone.
“Well, fuck.”
Yeah, fuck is right.
“How bad is going to be if they search your Winnebago?”
There’s no “if.” I’m positive they’re tearing the damn thing apart right now, after Paul’s little tirade. I’m leaning against a brick wall, handcuffs on my wrists and the payphone cradled against my ear, courtesy of the Canaan police department. And I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.
“Nothing that bad.”
“You weren’t still slinging weed on the side or anything, were you?”
I roll my eyes. “Kane, I was eighteen, and it was one time.”
“Yeah, but I had to smooth talk that cop into chilling out on your ass.”
I grin. “I do remember. But no, nothing in the Winnebago. Just some ‘headache’ cures that are literally aspirin dipped in pink candy.”
Kane snickers. “Shit, Jasper knew every trick, didn’t he?”
“Think he knew how to get out of something like this?”
“Probably,” Kane growls. “But I sure as hell wish he’d told us.” He sighs. “Look, man, I’m going to start calling any lawyers I know.”
I make a face. “Why doesn’t that sound very promising?”
“Because most lawyers I know are the ones who tried to lock me up?”
I groan and drop my forehead against the wall.