Page 6 of Shattered Vows

“Do not scream when I remove my hand. Understood?”

I nod as much as I can with his hand covering half my face. I could risk it and scream, but who knows what he’ll do if I defy him? I don’t want to find out.

He slowly removes his hand and steps back. I spin to face him, my limbs trembling.

I’m sucked into a time warp, getting a full look at him instead of his reflection. His hair is still almost shaved off, his jaw sculpted to perfection. The only difference is rather than being dressed in fatigues, he wears a tailored deep blue suit that highlights his broad shoulders. He looks even more lethal in the polished attire.

After four years, my body still purrs at the sight of him, which is beyond messed up since I’m supposed to be marrying another man. And this man wants to harm me.

His gaze roams my body quickly, and his lips furrow into a frown. He yanks me by my wrist, dragging me toward the door. “Let’s go.”

My feet barely hit the floor as we move through the door to the hallway that runs along the side of the sanctuary, then out the side door of the church. He knows the church too well, speaking to his training.

When I realize he’s taking me out of the church, I unsuccessfully try to dig my heels into the tiles.

He doesn’t let up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes brimming with irritation. “Don’t test me, Rapsody.”

It’s as if he’s not talking to me. No one’s called me Rapsody for years.

I stop fussing. Maybe I can escape once we reach the door or call for help when we’re outside the church. I struggle to keep up. He opens the side door and leads us across the grass to a beat-up minivan backed into a parking spot.

Movement from my right draws my attention across the road. I open my mouth, but his hand lands on my neck, squeezing.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

My vision blurs before I can strangle out any words. My limbs grow heavy, and my body goes limp. I think about the first time I met this man and how different I thought he was then.

My mom had developed complications from a MRSA infection, and her doctor told me that she’d likely be hospitalized for at least two weeks.

It was on the second day of my mother’s hospital stay that I first saw him in the cafeteria.

I was tired, emotionally drained, and overwhelmed. I sat quietly crying into a tissue at one of the tables in the cafeteria. She was all I’d ever known. Until she came home with me, healthy and back to her old self, there was no way I’d sleep through the night.

Kol walked in, and I sat up, taking notice. He was in a T-shirt with army cargo pants and boots, dark hair shorn short, and he commanded attention as though it was owed to him. A God-given right.

I was eighteen and sheltered—homeschooled. My mom had never allowed me to have a job or leave the house without her, and even then, it was a rarity. In the couple of days I’d been left alone, it was overwhelming. I shrank back from anyone I encountered, anxiety washing over me.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed Kol. Everyone’s head turned in his direction, but most diverted their eyes right away from his intimidating presence. Not me, though. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man.

He ordered and sat on his own, eating farther down the same row as me.

He turned in my direction, and I swung my gaze down to my food, cheeks heated.

After almost getting caught staring, I forced myself not to look in his direction again. There was no point. Once my mother felt better, she would never allow me to date anyone, let alone him. He was clearly older than me by at least a decade. My mother would never approve of me spending time with him. She didn’t even allow me to walk to the corner store on my own.

I was used to my mother’s overprotectiveness. She was always going on about the dangers of the world and how you can’t trust anyone. After seeing the nightly news at the age of ten, I knew she was right. School shootings, homelessness, mental health issues, political corruption, endless wars—the world overflowed with evil.

Usually, my lack of freedom didn’t bother me, but for the past year, I’d felt antsy, as if there was more for me out there than staying within the walls of our two-bedroom apartment.

While the past two days on my own had been overwhelming and downright scary, the simple freedom of calling a taxi and taking it on my own to the hospital, heck, even just going down to the cafeteria, felt like a small victory. But those thoughts left me feeling guilty because the only reason I was experiencing a little bit of freedom was because my mom was ill.

Maybe once my mom was better, we could discuss the possibility of giving me some more independence. That’s if she got better…

Tears pooled in my eyes as I worried again about the possibility that she might not improve. The doctor had made it clear that her recovery wasn’t a given at this point. I judged myself for thinking about my own life while my mother’s hung on a thread. She had to get better. She just had to.

I stood, grabbing the tray to dispose of the garbage. My vision concentrated on my tray as I passed Kol’s table, and I silently repeated to myself not to look at him. But an urge came over me as I approached, and I just had to take one last look. But in doing so, I didn’t see the doctor cutting through the aisle in the opposite direction. It was too late to prepare for when he passed in front of me, causing me to come to a sudden stop. The empty water bottle resting on my tray tipped over and rolled off.

Right over to the base of Kol’s table.

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