Page 14 of These Deadly Vows

Bile shoots up my throat, nearly coming out of my nostrils as my gaze lands on Roberto’s severed head. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a Halloween decoration, but I’d know those haunting brown eyes anywhere.

I hated Roberto, but I can’t stop the moisture that gathers in the creases of my eyes. The tears aren’t for him. They’re for me.

I’ve always known I live in a cruel world. Seeing the brutality up close and so damn personal almost has me wishing he was the monster about to receive my hand in marriage. Almost. Sure, I’ve seen or heard things, but my father did his best to shield me from the savagery of it all.

To a point. Moreso when my mother was alive. Probably at her request. As I grew older, it became harder for him to hide men leaving his office with a broken nose or missing a finger. But never was there a severed head.

I stare back at where they hold my father hostage. His head could all too easily be next, but I need to know why. No one goes to such violent ends for an insult or territory disputes.

Not even men like Ghost.

“When you said he took everything from you, what did you mean by that?”

He cups my cheek, moving in close, bending his head to meet mine. Liquor tainted breath caresses my lips before his mouth descends.

Instinct tells me to jerk my head away to prevent his lips from touching mine, and yet I wait with anticipation laced in my veins for his next move.

“Fifteen years ago, your father ordered a hit. Made a power play. My pregnant fiancé and my father were gunned down on the church steps on my wedding day. And if that wasn’t enough, he blew up the church, killing everyone inside.”

“Everyone but you,” I return in a horrified whisper. “And now you’re back like a ghost risen from the dead to reclaim what he stole.” I look back at my father. His life hanging in the balance, and I see the truth in his eyes. He looks at this tattooed and scarred biker before me in his fancy suit and he knows Ghost will kill him and likely me, too.

“Don’t pity either of us, princess. I’m afraid you’ll be collateral damage once this is over, and I have what was meant to be mine.”

“What do you want from me?”

“A son,” he proclaims coolly.

A strangled chortle escapes me. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Is that all?” He has no clue how wrongly he’s chosen.

I can’t give him what he desires, but if I confess that information now, he’ll have no use for me.

I glance back at my father once more, hating him for what he did to me as a teen. Hating that he brought me into this dangerous game. Yet I can’t bear the thought of him dying.

He’s all I have. My only true family.

“Can I negotiate the terms of our agreement?”

He scratches his chin. “I’ll consider your demands.”

“If I marry you and agree to produce a child, you’ll let my father live. Once the child is eighteen, I get to walk away.”

“Your father already negotiated.”

“And?”

“He wanted you out after the child was born, all parental rights relinquished to me. But if you want to stick around longer, I can arrange it.”

I swallow back any smart remarks. None of this matters. Once he learns my secret, I’m dead anyway. I’m only prolonging the inevitable.

“Let’s do this then.”

The biker holding a bible steps forward, and I burst out laughing at the absurdity of this whole scene. My father tied to a chair, Roberto’s head on a platter, and a holy biker.

What’s next? A whore on a unicorn.

“Something funny, princess?”

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