“You get what I asked for?” Waylon asks, giving not one excuse or apology for his apparent tardiness. As noisy as it is, his hard-as-nails voice cuts through the din as easily as a steak knife through butter.

“You know me,” the beautiful man answers with a smooth smile. Unlike Waylon, he has to shout to be heard. “Anything for my brother up north.”

His eyes stray to me in my now dingy white gown. “Did you forget to invite me to the wedding?"

Waylon just shrugs and says, “That’s why I told you to bring some clothes.”

“Yeah, I got you,” the beautiful man answers. “Percy, come here.”

He snaps, and a slender woman steps forward. I was so mesmerized by the man, I hadn’t seen her standing slightly behind him. But she's just as beautiful as him, if not prettier. She has long wavy hair, toasted brown skin, and upturned almond-shaped eyes. She’s slender but not skinny. Her hips fill out a pair of cut-off shorts with the top button unfastened. And she wears what I suppose could be called a top, but it put me more in mind of the bikini. It was basically two long triangles of crocheted yarn tied around her neck and behind her back, just above her waistline.

“Percy’s got some clothes for her,” the beautiful man says to Waylon. “Is it okay if she takes her in back to change?”

“Yes, please,” I answer. “I really want out of the dress.”

Neither the beautiful man nor the woman he calls Percy responds. They just look to Waylon, waiting for his answer as if I didn’t say anything.

Waylon glances at me, then gives Percy a single nod. “Make sure you stay with her the whole time. Then drop her off with Doc.”

Who’s Doc? And why is Waylon treating me like a child who has to be turned over to another adult for supervision?

Waylon walks away with the guy who called him brother before I can inform him I don’t need a babysitter, just some clothes. He doesn’t even wait for Percy to answer in the affirmative.

I’m reminded of that thing he told me when I hadn't even known him twenty-four hours. When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed.

And Percy appears to be on the same page as him. She turns around without a word and starts walking toward the back of the roadhouse, her hips swinging with a sultry sway. I guess she assumes I'll automatically follow like she automatically obeys.

I do follow behind her. Partly out of curiosity and partly because I’d follow just about anyone at this point to get out of this wedding dress. I couldn’t feel more out of place. Everybody’s watching me as I walk by, and a few people even stop their conversations to turn and stare.