Francesca Grey wants nothing more than to just take care of the Northern Dragons Mafia and carry on with her life as a famed womanizer. She wasn't looking to get married or to fall in love with anyone anytime soon, that kind of life wasn't for her...
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A PROMISE
"You're getting married today." Brooklyn comments as she lays beside me in the grass in her pajamas. We both had not made the effort to get ready for impeding nuptials.
We were both exhausted from the night before which is probably why a lot of couples don't have the bachelor party before the wedding anymore. I was barely running on four hours of sleep and I thanked the lord Delphi had been shoveling water down my throat or I would've been halfway to hell by now. I was only a quarter way.
I look at her with a deadpanned expression. "Yeah, I know."
Brooklyn chuckles before placing her face towards the breeze. Her brown skin turning a golden brown and soaking in the warmth of the world around us. "I got a getaway car, just say the word."
"Alana would probably find us in less than ten minutes and murder me."
A smirk, "Yeah, you're most likely right about that one."
I smile softly, "How's it feel to be my best man?"
"Weird," they look at me. "Still can't believe you're actually getting married."
"Gonna try and talk me out of it?" I joke with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
"No," they shake their head, "I know how important the gang is to you and how important Alana is."
"What are we going to do about my brother?" I mutter.
I think about him every second of the day, now. I wish he wasn't the one that has caused me so much pain — or has caused my friends their pain. A part of me hurts for what I know I have to do to save myself and everyone I love.
"Kill him." Brooklyn answers easily. "First we need to take out Scotland and Richard."
"You think they'll show today?"
"They RSVPed." They shrug, "so most likely that's a yes."
I hear the clacking of heels against the deck and Clary dressed in a light pink comes across the deck. Her hands fall to her hips and there's an angry look in her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"You look nice, Clary." I say with a warm grin.
"Thanks, ass kisser, and you look like a three year old that just jumped out of bed." She barks. "Get the Peppa Pig pajamas off, now, and go get ready."
"Why are you so bossy all of a sudden?" I grumble.
"Because your future wife is a bridezilla." Clary says it with an annoyed look but she smiles a little too. "And she looks out the window and sees you laying in the grass three hours before the wedding. Do you know how crazy she is? She's just like her mother."
