“You.” I finally get my mouth to form the word.
But instead of flinching away from the accusation, N smiles. Full out smiles. “You remember me.”
Anger boils over inside of me, and I spring up, the chair rolling back into the wall behind me.
“You laughed!” I shout as I move toward him.
I don’t have a plan. All I know is that I want to hurt him for the way he’d made me feel.
His hands come up, palms out. “Woah, now.”
“I begged for your help!” My voice cracks, as too many emotions war within me.
My fist clenches and I pull my arm back.
I’ve never punched someone. But I’m about to try.
An amused expression crosses N’s face, and I put the rage it causes me into my swing.
Except my fist connects with a palm, that doesn’t belong to N.
The large hand closes around my own, while moving across my body, until my arm is pressed into my own chest.
I lash out with my other fist, any attempt at finesse long gone. But that fist is caught just like the first, and wrapped across my body until King is hugging me from behind, pinning my arms in place.
N laughs, a-fucking-gain, and I lose it.
I lean into King’s bear hug, and I let him take my weight as I kick out with both feet.
“Christ!” King steps back, and I thrash. My too-long-pant-legs waving in the air in front of us.
We keep moving away from N, and even though I feel the fight leaving me, I don’t stop struggling.
“I hate you!” I don’t even realize I’m crying until I try to yell it. And I don’t know who it’s directed at, King or N. It doesn’t even matter. I hate them both.
Together, King and I drop backwards, landing on the couch I’d briefly noticed was situated under the windows.
His legs come up and wrap around mine. Holding me in place. But my head is still free, so I swing my head around, hoping to hit his stupid perfect nose.
It’s fruitless. I know that. He already showed me all the evidence I need, to prove I’m helpless. That I’m fully ensnared in his trap. But I can’t help myself. I can’t just let myself give up.
His body tightens around mine, as he shifts his head to dodge my blow.
Then we’re tipping onto our sides, all of my limbs still trapped beneath his.
My head lands on the soft cushion, and before I can so much as react, his temple presses into mine, hard, securing my head between his and the couch below us.
And that’s it.
I’m beat.
Defeated.
King’s wild breathing matches my own as I struggle to calm my heaving lungs.
I blink away the tears still clinging to my lashes and notice a crumpled sweatshirt on the floor just inside the doorway.
Where did that come from?
I blink at it again.
Did King get that? Is that why he left me alone with the other man? When he swore and left the room, was he getting me a sweatshirt? Because I was shivering?
How am I ever supposed to make sense of this man?
“I can see why you want to marry her,” N chuckles from his place still against the wall.
I glare at him.
“What’s not to love?” King’s tone is nonchalant. Like that’s why we’re getting married. Because he loves me. Not because…
I blink some more.
I don’t even know why he wants to marry me.
I mean, it’s not because he wants to spend his life with me. And it certainly has nothing to do with love. So, it has to have something to do with Lee. But why?
N clears his throat. “Well, I found a script online. Do we need a witness in here before we get started? Or are you just gonna forge that too?”
“Bring Steve in. He can be a witness,” King replies, his voice loud against my ear.
N dips his chin, then turns and walks out the door. Leaving us alone.
I can feel his chest fill against my back as he takes a deep breath.
I swallow, clearing the lump from my throat. “Why marriage?
King sighs, his chest compressing. “Because you know too much.”
I try to shake my head, but I can’t, since he’s still pressing his temple to mine. “I don’t know anything.”
“You know I killed Leland.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“You know that’s not how this works.”
“No, King! I don’t know that’s not how this works!” Tears threaten again, so I pinch my eyes shut even tighter. “Believe it or not, I’ve never been involved in a murder before.”
“I believe that, Honey. You’re a good girl.” His voice is so sincere, it trickles warmth into my chest before I can stop it.
“Then why?” I whisper.
“It’s complicated.” When I sniffle, his arms tighten around me, and he uses his legs wrapped around mine to bring all four of our legs up onto the couch. It’s disgustingly comfortable, spooning on this couch, with the giant man forcing me into a marriage I don’t want. “There are enough dots out there, connecting you to Leland, and Leland to me, that you would eventually get questioned. But as my wife, no one can force you to testify against me. And,” he continues before I can argue, “if the cops can put those pieces together, so can my enemies.” Enemies. “This may come as a surprise to you,” his tone turns sarcastic, “but I’m involved in some not-so-good things.”
I huff out a response, my tone matching his. “You don’t say.” I wiggle my body. “This all seemed like the behavior of a super lawful person.”
His thighs flex around mine. “Might want to stop your wiggling.”
My mouth opens to reply, when I notice it. It. A thick shaft hardening against my ass.
Is he seriously getting turned on?
Without thought, my hips shift.
Is his dick really that big?
King turns his face, his head still pressed against mine, but his lips so close to my cheek that they brush against my skin with each word. “I won’t force myself inside of you, Savannah Baby. But I am dying to come all over those pretty tits, so don’t fucking tempt me.”
Oh holy hell.
My pussy clenches at the image his words conjure.
A throat clears. “So…you ready?” N is back, with yet another big surly man at his side.
“I’m ready,” King growls, and I swear I feel him harden further.
I let my eyes close as N starts to recite words that I recognize from movies, but that I was starting to believe would never be said to me.
The recital of wedding vows that I’d basically given up on.
Just pretend it isn’t real.
Keeping my eyes shut I focus on my breathing. And I try not to think about how warm King is pressed up against me. How I’m not shivering anymore.
Raw, traitorous heat pools between my thighs. Making me feel even worse.
It’s just sweat. I tell myself. It’s not the feeling of a man’s arms around me. It has nothing to do with the aroused body part pressing into me. It certainly isn’t related to the words said against my skin.
N’s words suddenly sound louder. “Do you, King Bartholomew Vass, agree to take Savannah Jane Oates, as your reluctant wife? In sickness and in health? In rich and richer times. Do you promise to be a faithful captor, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” King’s words surround me.
“And do you, Savannah Jane Oates, take King Bartholomew Vass, to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be cooperative and faithful? To be the best wife you can be? To not slit King’s throat while he sleeps?”
I let my eyes open, to glare at the man smirking from across the room.
When I don’t answer, King tightens his whole-body hold on me.
“Fine.”
“Savannah,” King chastises me quietly.
I grit my teeth, then give in. It’s just words. “I do.”
“Great!” N beams. “Then I, Nero, best friend of the lucky groom, pronounce you husband and wife.” He spreads his hands out. “You may kiss the bride.”
My eyes widen.
He wouldn’t…
King twists, and I’m suddenly on my back, his body crushing me into the cushions.
“Don’t you da––”
I try to say dare. But I only get to the part where my mouth opens on the a before his lips slam against mine.
My eyes widen, then slip closed as sparks short-circuit my brain.
His lips are warm. Firm, but soft. And mine react, matching his movements out of instinct.
I forget that I hate him.
For just one second, I forget that I’m here against my will.
I fall into the feeling of his weight on top of me, melting as his tongue sweeps across mine.
I moan when one of his hands slides up my spine to cup the back of my head.
I let myself forget.
For that one moment.
Then I remember everything.
And I close my teeth around his bottom lip.
King pauses, but doesn’t pull away, so I bite down harder.
I know I shouldn’t worry about hurting him. This man literally just forced me to marry him. But the thought of drawing blood and getting it in my mouth is more than I’m willing to do. Even if I had the gusto to bite his damn lip off––cue internal gag––it’s not like he’d just let me go.
The hand behind my head flexes, lightly tugging on my hair and I take it as my cue to release him.
When he lifts his face from mine, I expect to see him looking down at me with smug satisfaction. Gloating over what he accomplished. But the expression on his face… It’s something else altogether.
It’s hunger.
And I’m disgusted to have the same feeling deep in my core.
“Welp!” The man apparently named Nero, not just N, claps his hands together. “Is there a reception lunch or something? I’m famished.”
King unwraps himself from around me, to stand.
I certainly don’t miss the press of his body against mine. And I absolutely don’t look at the oversized bulge in the front of his pants.
“Don’t be a dick,” King says to Nero, as he straightens his clothes.
“That’s Preacher Dick.” Nero grins.
They seem almost playful toward one another, and I remember Nero’s comment about him being King’s best friend and wonder if that’s true. And wonder what it means that King’s best friend would be someone so scary.
I use the moment when no one’s attention is on me to push up into a sitting position, only to find that third man staring at me.
I’d forgotten all about him. The witness.
I’m wearing a bunch of oversized, borrowed clothes, but the way the man is looking at me crawls under my skin.
King’s large body moves between me and the man.
“When the certificate is ready for you to sign, I’ll have someone bring it out to you.” King tells him, sounding calm. “But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull.” He pauses. “Understand?”
The noise of my blood rushing through my veins drowns out whatever response the other man gives.
He’s crazy.
I’m married to a crazy man.
“Put this on.”
I startle, finding King crouching in front of me, holding out the well-worn maroon college sweatshirt.
I don’t know if he’s giving it to me to complete his task from earlier, or if he wants me to cover up the fact that I’m wearing a t-shirt with no bra. Either way, I take it and pull it on over my head because the cold from before is resettling into my bones.
“Are you hungry?”
I shake my head.
“You have to eat.”
I shake my head again, pressing my lips together.
I want to scream at him. Yell at him about how unfair this all is. But I know if I open my mouth now, nothing but sobs will come out.
King sighs, “Do you want to go back to the room?”
The room.
The bedroom I now have to share with this stranger before me.
I nod my head. It’s the best of my bad options.
“Alright.” He grips my wrists and stands, bringing me up with him.
Once I’m steady, he lets go of one hand, sliding the other down until his fingers are entwined with mine.
I don’t grip his fingers back, but I don’t bother trying to shake them off.
As King leads me toward the office door, Nero tips his head in my direction. “Welcome to The Alliance, Mrs. Vass.”
