Giant Men and Violent Women

She Has Arrived

ASHLEY

Bad Luck. She's in her black truck, right in the passenger seat. Her trusted driver and bodyguard is behind the wheel. Hunt is sitting in the second row, browsing through his cell phone, unperturbed. It was Hunt, not Jewels, who was with Presley Ann when she took Date, and he couldn't care less if he was caught red-handed. I always did like Hunt. He's the fucking man, and he knows it. Boxer and Hunt carried Date out of the dive. Boxer, Hunt, and Presley Ann took Date to safety. They also took a number of slaves with them, which is why the tires had to go. And Presley Ann was the ringleader.

I don't need to look at The Governor and First Lady to know that they're devastated. The others told them that I intend on asking Presley Ann to marry me, and if she denies me, then I'll marry Louisiana. In The Governor's mind, he and his wife have to get one of their daughters married off to someone they deem respectable. So, now, they're hoping that Presley Ann denies my request.

But I can tell by Presley Ann's face, which surprisingly has an entertained look, that she already knows what I want. I saw her, and Cupid killed me. I want her. She has her choice of men, and I see the satisfaction of her knowing it. She wants to know what I'll promise her if she chooses me. What's in it for her? Her mother has already told her what I need—a wife for New Hampshire. But she's also told Presley Ann what I want— her.

Presley Ann gets out of the truck and looks directly at me. Power.

There will be no begging on my part. There will be no convincing. I don't have to state my claim or my intention. Everyone knows why I need to ring my bells. The people of New Hampshire will see this marriage for what it is—a show of dynastic power. I was just set to marry Louisiana, Presley Ann was just with Jewels, and now, here we are, marrying. No one will know the specific reasons she and I chose to drop our mates and partner together, but they won't need to know. The fact that the House of New Hampshire can make such an unemotional, calculated, and brutal move shows that we've come to play. Checkmate. Game over.

Someone has primed Presley Ann. Her mother prepared her for what she will encounter. She argued with Cherokee. She mentioned Jewels. Her mother told her why Jewels just wouldn't do. He's not a New Hampshirite. That's enough in itself. But, also, he has no power. But, once again, he's not a New Hampshirite.

Law enforcement loaded nonresidents onto buses. They're running from New Hampshire police, who is dragging them away from their wives and children, hospital beds, school desks, and cabins. They are with us, but they are not of us. They have to leave. No resident of New Hampshire may exit the state, and no nonresident may enter it. New Hampshire Border Patrol is already guarding the boundaries of Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, and Canada. Presley Ann is stuck with me.

She heads my way through the fog.

"I hope this is as fun as I've imagined," Mercer says. He moves away to give Presley Ann and me privacy.

I can smell her perfume—spice, lemon, musk. I watch her stride— confident, settled. She's not just my bride; she's my mate.

Two eras will always divide my life—Before Chap Died and After His Death. Before he died, Louisiana was the one for me. My life had been the same since the day I was born, and I was too settled in it to welcome anyone new. My world had its set players and its set places. And then Chap died. And then nothing was normal anymore. The world changed, but Louisiana still wanted to marry, as though it hadn't. She wanted the old world back, as much as she hated it. But there's no such thing as rewinding time.

I have no idea what I can expect in this new world of New Hampshire, but I'm sure it's not heading to the gym on my gym days and to the bar during college ball games. It's not dressing in button-up shirts and sports coats while waving to tourists as they pass by my office. Those days are over. Things are already different.