The Gates of Hell

Briony’s POV—

“And I’m supposed to meet her…” slowly it came out as I took a seat at the head of the table where my mother and Val had led me.

“The guys are supposed to drop her off here, she’s an old friend so—I want her to meet you and I want her to be apart of this, its been a long time since we’ve seen her, we need to catch up and I figured male strippers, thongs and sex games would be the perfect atmosphere,” laughing, Val and the girls placed presents around the table, they put an odd looking hat on my head and all took seats around the table. “We’ll wait until she gets here, until then…”

“Until then?” I quietly, secretly hoped she was referring to us all talking about the wedding like a slumber party but that wasn’t the case. Three male strippers, two blondes and a black haired man came out of the back room. The black haired man had hair past his shoulders, tumbling in long waves. He was gorgeous; he was Native American with eyes deep as night. The other two, I really could care less what they looked like, I vaguely remember seeing two very boyish looking men.

“Where’s the bride to be?” the Indian questioned in his jeans, moving closer to Val—thinking she was the bride, I was to young and apparently it didn’t dawn on him.

“She is, Briony, baby,” Leana laughed as he walked over to her, testing her limits.

“Miss Briony,” the man glanced over my way and smirked, he started dancing rhythmically, swaying his hips. In any other situation, I would be beyond embarrassed and think the man was stupid, but he’s far to pretty to think that.

“Oh God,” I whispered as he held his hands out, grabbed my hands and stood me up. Crushing his body against mine, swaying us both together in a grinding motion.

Damn if only Zacky would do this…

“Its getting hot in here,” the voice came from the door, making everyone halt in their actions and turn to the sound. There in the archway was a woman dressed quite casually; she was fanning her face laughing. She was quite stunning, but under the lighting I couldn’t see her features all that well.

“Rocky!” Val and Michelle, who had been on the other side of the room watching with a soured look on her face, jumped and ran at the woman. Soon after she was attacked by Leana and Gena.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered looking at Caty and Danielle, they both shrugged. I’m beginning to worry about them, they act like twins. “Oh…”

“How old are you?” the man started grinding against me again, moving his arms up and down my sides and over my arms. It felt nice even if it was seriously messing with my personal space.

“Eighteen,” I whispered as I looked up into his amazing eyes, they were just as pronounced as his facial features, they were sharp as tacks.

“So young, to young to be getting married,” he murmured his opinion as he started to take off his shirt, absentmindedly, I eyed him the whole time. “If you ask me, the man your getting married to is very lucky.”

“Thank you,” my breath froze in my chest until I was snapped back into reality and an arm was touching mine. “Oh!”

“Briony, I want you to meet Rocky, this is Jimmy’s cousin. She’s photographing your wedding,” Val bounced in her spot as she moved the woman closer.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” the woman, Rocky held her hand out for a shake.

“Our family doesn’t shake,” I whispered moving my arms away from the dancers to hug her. “I honestly thought Rocky was a guy, I’m so sorry.”

“Its okay,” Rocky shrugged it off as she stepped back and glanced at Michelle and Val. “So let’s get this started.”

“Yeah,” I weakly murmured, by the time I was whining I was being sat down and lap danced by pretty boy blond number one. The Indian dancer was gone to Val, lucky ass.

__________________

I woke up with one of the worst headaches I’ve had in my entire life, never in the world had I had such a pounding in my skull. I really wanted to lay in bed and die, but I couldn’t do that. “Wake up,” someone whispered in my ear and pushed me over on my back; I squinted my eyes open and got a vision of a blurry figure.

“Who is that?” my voice broke from the dryness of my throat. I’m swearing off all alcohol and loud music.

“Brian, come on, Bri, your laying in a pile of something I think might be cake,” he whispered again, he must have known I had a hangover.

“That cake was disturbing, help me up,” I found myself forgetting our previous arguments and let myself be picked up by him. He didn’t set me back down though; he carried me out to the car. “Where is everyone?”

“The chapel, they sent me after you since I’m the Made of Honor, I don’t know how your getting married when your still drunk as a skunk,” he murmured but I chose to drown him out with my inner thoughts of how much that one dancer looked identical to Brad Pitt. “Hey, are you paying attention to me, shorty?”

“Not really,” I admitted laying my head on his arm that laid against the console, it was warm and felt rather good to be such an awkward working pillow. “My head hurts so fucking bad.”

“I’ve got Tylenol and a bottle of water,” he pointed to the back seat where his tux was, he reached behind me and him and grabbed the water first and then the Tylenol. “And when we get there, I’ll make you some strong coffee.”

“My breath will stink,” I complained but only got a frustrated glance in return, making me sigh and give in to defeat. “Fine, fine, just get me some mints after I drink the coffee.”