Devil's Saints: Molly's Pretties

Come on, Disney princesses do it all the time. They meet, they marry, they sing a catchy little tune as they ride off into their happily ever after. – Mary

JANUARY 2020

Molly stood outside the twenty-four-hour chapel doors that he married his wife at just over twenty years ago. He was nervous to go inside. Everyone was waiting for him.

Becks was waiting for him where he had waited for her just over twenty years before.

He didn’t remember being this nervous twenty years ago. He didn’t remember being this sober either. Smiling, he let the memories of that day in September of 1999 wash over him. Then he thought about all the other times that they had been here to add another pretty to their family. And all of the little pretties that had come along. And recently, two little boys.

The tie was loosened around his neck and the top button of his collar was quickly undone.

Bright blue eyes shimmered with tears that he swiped away on the back of his big hands. His long black hair had a few strands of silver running through the braid. As was his usual, especially with so many daughters, he had a pink lace bow at the end of his braid.

For once, there was nothing in his beard. It hung loose down to the top of his sternum. It was considerably shorter today after one of his sons got a lollipop stuck in it last night. Had it not been for the impromptu trim, the second piece of pink lace would have been at the end of his beard braid. And not tucked into his pocket where he would carry it from now on.

Pink because that was his Becks’ favorite color. His four other wives, his Pretties, and all their children, his Little Pretties, knew that he would do anything for his lovely bride.

It was her request that had him wearing dark jeans, a pink Oxford shirt, his old beat-up motorcycle boots and his club cut.

The cut was a leather vest with the Devil’s Saints patch on the back. A red devil rode on a motorcycle with a crazy look on his face, including a forked tongue sticking out the right side of his mouth and wide eyes. Giant angel wings came out behind him with a gold halo hanging precariously on his left horn.

Twenty years ago, he had stood at the end of the aisle, dressed similarly, and watched a vision in pink and ivory walk towards him. That warm day in September had been perfect. Even if it had been put together in just a few hours.

Today would be perfect for his Becks. He made sure of it. She had it planned out and he and his other wives, hisother Pretties, made sure it went exactly how she wanted it.

As soon as he could settle these nerves and butterflies in his stomach he would go to his Becks.

The door behind him opened quietly. He didn’t turn, but he knew it was his oldest daughter, Priscilla.

“Daddy.”

“I know.” He whispered.

She stepped in front of him and gave him a watery smile. Gently she fixed his collar and tie. “Momma Becks is waiting for you.”

She was wearing the pink baby doll dress that had been Becks’ favorite when she was pregnant with Angel. Priss had always loved it. It had been altered slightly to fit her smaller form.

Priss had her mother’s height and curves. One was emphasized by the black leggings and short skirt. The other by the low-cut wide neckline. Her hair was dyed black to match the rest of the family. Typically, she wore contacts to make her brown eyes blue.

Becks had asked that today she wear her glasses instead. She wanted to know that Priss would watch with the eyes that matched her birth mother. Priss was the daughter of Becks closest friend who stood by her during one of the worst times of her life. After her death, Becks and Molly raised her infant daughter into the beautiful young woman that stood before him now.

“I just needed a minute.” Molly whispered.

“I know.” She ran her fingers through his beard and then smoothed it all down. “You look handsome for her.”

His big beefy arms wrapped around her and pulled her in for a hug. “She’s always been beautiful for me.”

“She has.” Priscilla hugged her dad closely and fought back her own tears. “She always will.”

Molly sighed and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go see my pretty.”

Priscilla stepped back and looked up at him. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her head. Standing before him was a beautiful young lady. He wasn’t certain where his little girl had gone.

But the teen in front of him still looked at him with adoring eyes. Molly reached up and cupped her cheek in his large, calloused hand. She leaned into the comfort and love that he offered. Smiling, he kissed her temple.

“You look beautiful, my Little Pretty.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I love you, Priscilla.”

“I love you, too.” She blinked back tears, but one slipped out and he captured it on his thumb.

“Come on,” he said gently pulling her to his side. “Take me to my Pretty, my Becks.”

They walked inside the building, through the foyer into the chapel and down the long aisle. Friends and family surrounded them. His four other wives sat in the front row surrounded by their children. His pretties, little pretties and baby boys.

Priscilla moved away from her father to sit with the rest of the family. Tammy and Yvonne both placed arms around their oldest daughter. Alicia reached across Tammy and squeezed the teens hand. Michaela leaned around Yvonne to look at her and Priscilla gave her a smile.

Three-year-old Kim crawled up into her oldest sister’s lap. Priscilla hugged her close and deeply breathed in the sweet scent of innocence.

All four of Molly’s wives, fourteen daughters and two sons wore pink. The rest of the room was a sea of pastels. Never had he seen so many bikers wearing pink.

But there they were. His club from Massachusetts. The Cajuns from Louisiana and their sister club, the Texas Renegades. Of course, there were the local Vegas Mongrels. Becks best friend was a sister and old lady to a Mongrel.

This city had been where they had met. It was supposed to be a weekend fling while the Saints were in town for the rally. Sunday rolled around, and in a matter of hours they went from one night stand to husband and wife. Here in this chapel.

He would have it no other way.

Molly looked at his first wife. She was just as beautiful today as when they were first married all those years ago. still beautiful in her ivory dress with pink lace and beading.

He gently touched her pale cheek and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love you, Rebecca.”