Page 46 of Unveiled

Ainsley looks at me with vulnerability shining in her eyes. What am I supposed to do, lie to her and tell her I don’t trust her? Of course, I trust her. It’s everyone else around her I don’t trust. I nod my head, giving her my answer.

“Then trust me to take care of myself, but also trust that I trust you to keep me safe.”

“Ains -”

She cuts me off, not wanting to hear me tell her no again. “You want me to be your wife, right?” Again, I nod my head. The only thing I want more is to one day see her with our child in her arms. “Prove it. Treat me like your wife.”

It’s a trap, my mind screams at me immediately. I don’t know how, but she’s playing some kind of trick that’s going to backfire on me.

“How?”

“Husbands and wives are equals,” she tells me. “Which means, if you would trust yourself to do this, then you need to trust me to go along, too. If you can’t do that, then you’re not ready for a wife.”

There it is. The other shoe drops as she looks at me, one eyebrow raised and her hands firmly planted on her hips. Her sass is shining through, and fuck me because all I want to do is carry her upstairs and throw her on our bed when she looks at me like that.

But, not for one second will I allow her to think she’s anything less than my equal. She sure as hell won’t think I’m not ready for a wife, either. That was her trap all along.

“Get in the car.”

Chapter 18

Ainsley

The car ride to the compound I haven’t seen in months is completely silent. Just as silent as the day I left him, and he drove me to Ethan’s house.

Cain is mad at me, I know that, but I don’t know how to tell him that his silence is hurting me. There was no other way for me to convince him to go and take me with him.

When he finally came for me, I turned down revenge because all I could think about was getting out of there and going home with him. I watched Carlos being tortured, watched his death, but he suffered no consequences by my own hands.

I often wonder if that would have made a difference for me. If I had taken my revenge on him, would I have stayed with Cain? Probably not, but there’s a very real possibility that the nightmares wouldn’t have plagued me for the last three months. I would have proved to myself that I can be strong when I need to be.

Which is why I can’t pass up this opportunity. Cain wants me to open myself up to him again, and the longer I’m with him, the more I want that, too. But, I can’t do that with the past sneaking up on me and threatening to suffocate me. As long as the past is haunting me, I can’t give him what he wants.

Do I think I’ll be the one to send Cain’s father to his death? No. Cain deserves that privilege for everything that man has put him through. I’ll be happy to just send him to Cain with a few bruises he would have gone without otherwise. Just to show him a sliver of the pain he caused me.

Not able to stand the silence between us anymore, I reach across the center console and try to braid my fingers through Cain’s. Despite my efforts, his hand remains in a tight fist, denying me access.

That doesn’t deter me from trying, though. My fingers fight to unravel his, pulling his fingers apart one by one. When I get close enough, he pulls his hand to the other side of his lap, away from my reach.

“Cain.”

His jaw ticks, but he refuses to look at me. I knew I made him angry, but I didn’t realize it was so bad that he won’t even touch me. He’s never been that mad at me. We’ve had our fights, none worse than the ones we’ve had this week, but we’ve still come out of them stronger. We got through them together. How can I do that when he’s pushing me away now?

“Cain,” I call, a little firmer this time. This time, his eyes twitch to the side. It’s only a millisecond that he looks at me, but it’s something.

“Don’t. You’ve done enough.”

Ouch. He’s not just mad, he’s furious. I don’t know how to fix this. I wasn’t wrong with making him take me, but maybe I could have gone about it differently.

Before I can think of a solution, we’re driving down a dirt road that’s too familiar, and at the end is a building I spent more time in than I wish to remember. The night is dark, but the silhouette of the building shines brightly, refusing to be hidden from my sight.

Panic seeps through me as memories come flooding back to me, overwhelming me before I can make them stop.

Memories of thinking Cain was dead, killed while trying to rescue me.

Memories of Carlos beating me in front of his men to teach me a lesson.

Memories of being paraded around in strips of clothing like I was nothing more than his own personal doll.

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