Page 49 of Lawless God

“No,” I grunt, pulling harder. “No, no. Martinez!”

Nate stands back, giving me space to lose my mind as he observes me with curiosity.

“Martinez, let me out!” I scream at the mirror.

“There are minimal chances of Martinez letting you out when I pay for his son’s college funds.” He explains this in such a practical voice, like I’m truly not understanding rather than denying the truth.

“Don’t do this.” I turn to him. “Don’t. Just kill me.”

He looks like he wants to roll his eyes. “We’ve been over this. Now make a choice. Should I bring those pictures to a judge that will put you in prison, or should I put this ring”—he plucks it out of the box—“around your finger.”

It takes me another full minute of cutting the skin around my wrists with the cuffs before I give up, panting as I sit back down on the metal chair.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze. “I—”

“Shh.” He moves behind me. Him suddenly massaging my shoulders makes me tense even more. But before I know it, his hands slide down my arms.

One travels all the way to my wrist, pressing my pulse with his thumb. I can feel he’s still holding the ring. His other hand slides under my tank top from the neckline. He places it just below my left breast, his fingertips at my ribs and his thumb between my boobs.

He applies pressure against my heart, whispering in my ear, “Calm your heartbeat, little sunflower. Take a deep breath.” He squeezes me in his arms, then releases me. “Again.”

I follow the rhythm of breathing he’s forcing on me, feeling myself able to let air in my lungs again.

“That’s good. Keep going.”

He repeats the same process, until he can sense my heartbeat balancing again.

“Good. You can cry if you want to.”

I shake my head. Of course I want to. I want to cry and scream. Deep down, I want to beg with all I have. But over my dead body will Nathan White get a single tear out of me.

“Now tell me.” He brings his lips near my ear, kisses the side of my head, and says, “Will you marry me?”

There’s a certain despair that takes hold of me. Death’s cold claws wrap around my throat, choking me, dripping ice into my stomach. But against my skin, Nate’s hands are warm, his grip almost reassuring rather than possessive, his hug supportive like he isn’t the one who is forcing me into this situation.

The answer is right there. I have no choice, but a single word has never been so hard to utter. The feeling of the ring stuck between his hand and my wrist is grim. I don’t even know what it looks like. I saw it, but it didn’t register.

He gives me time. He might have given me forever had I needed it. But I can’t die in this interrogation room. I have to get out. I have to start planning how to escape my jailer.

“Yes.” The word barely exists in my raspy voice.

I feel Nate’s smile spread against my skull. “You’re making me the happiest man on earth, Kayla.”

“I don’t want to make you the happiest man on earth.”

He ignores my retort, letting me go entirely. It’s an out-of-body experience when he slides the ring around my finger. I can’t pull my hand away, still cuffed to the table. I can’t say anything. Any word would just get stuck in my throat and drown in my inner tears.

It’s okay.

It’s a ring.

A ring means nothing.

I can take off a ring. I can throw it down the drain when he forces me to go back to his house. I can bury it in the woods. I can make him choke on it.

A ring means nothing.

He walks into my field of vision and caresses my cheek as he looks down at me.

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