(THIRD BOOK in the Golden Girl Series)
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"Till death do you part?" The priest finishes off with.
"I do," I answer - knowing how ready I am to die with this man.
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You've been on Amber Marigold's journey since she arrived at Tygerwell. Now join...
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A/N: I really appreciate you guys voting on my chapters! It would mean the world to me though if you could spare a minute to nominate/vote for me on The Fiction Awards. I can't help scrolling through all the books that get nominated there and whenever I see one of my goldies nominating me, I feel my heart flutter >.<
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I never thought a prison could be so homely.
The sun comes streaming in from my window and uncomfortable with the heat on me, I'm forced to wake up. Grudgingly, I open my eyes and blankly stare at the rest of the room. It's been a few days since I've been held here, but I still always wake up with the mindset that I need to get Owen his medication. The room is in shades of blue and brown and yet it feels unbelievably warm. With a sigh, I sit up in the bed and take the glass of water next to me. My throat is dry. It feels like I've been shouting for someone in my dreams.
A little more awake, I get up from the large bed and walk over to the ensuite. I shower and get dressed in the clothes I've been left with. Dark jeans and a leather jacket. Feels like the old days...
There's a predictable knock on the door as soon as I'm done dressing. It's like Kyle has hidden cameras in this room or something. "Little Brother, May I come in?" Southern Sterling's leader asks cheerfully.
He asks every morning like I have a choice. "You're the one with the key to the door," I grumble as I make my way to the bed and slump down. These morning visits are getting on my nerves.
There's a chuckle from the other side of the oak door before I hear a click and Kyle peers inside. He looks way too jovial for an upper-gang leader. More so, the co-leader to the largest upper-gang in the country.
"Good Morning, Blakey," Kyle smiles. He's also wearing a leather jacket, but the white shirt underneath has yellow paint. For the first time though, his loose-fitting pants don't have any paint - maybe he noticed how I glare at the paint stains. However, his black boots are still guilty of some white paint by the soles.
"I'm not acknowledging you until I can be sure Owen is safe," I say bluntly.
Kyle comes strolling in, but he loses the smile on his face when he closes the door. Usually, he'd start blabbering about nonsense and ask me how I'm doing or if I'm comfortable. For the whole hour that he'd talk my ears off, I'd just glare at the specks of paint on his clothes, but today... Today he's unusually grave at the mention of my friend.
