Page 1 of Rescuing Our Bride

1

ANNA

Tears roll down my cheeks, leaving cool tracks on my heated skin. Luckily, no one can see them under my veil. Not that anyone in this room would care since none of my friends were invited. Only my dad and a handful of Patrick’s associates are inside this small chapel. As far as I know, Patrick—my soon-to-be husband—would enjoy seeing my tears. At least that would fit his reputation. Cruel, arrogant, and rich. Those are the main things I’ve learned about him since my father announced he was marrying me off to him.

I tried to reason with him, tried everything I could to get out of it, but in the end, my father won. Patrick promised to pay my mother’s medical bills, past, present, and future. I know that’s a lot of money, and of course, I want my mother to have the best care, but I don’t know if I can sacrifice my entire life for that? There are other ways to get money. I’m not stupid, I had scholarships lined up for college. I could have gotten a good job and supported my parents. But that wasn’t enough for my father.

Even my mother begged him not to go through with it. Yet, here I am, walking down the aisle to be married to a man twice my age and three times my size. At least I was able to pick my own dress. Patrick told me to buy whatever I wanted, no matter the cost. I chose the cheapest dress on purpose. It’s not ugly, but it’s far from what he wanted, and that gives me a small inkling of satisfaction.

My nails dig into my father’s arm as we inch closer to the altar. My steps become slower. I have to drag my feet forward, my whole body protesting to keep going. My father pulls me forward, tugging on my arm almost painfully.

“Don’t make a scene, Anna,” my father whispers under his breath. “You know what’s at stake.”

His warning gets me moving, but only slightly faster. Of course, I know what’s at stake. I just don’t think he realizes what’s at stake for me.

We stop in front of the priest and my father places my hand in Patrick’s sweaty palm. I try not to gag when he gives me a smug smile and squeezes my fingers. My father steps aside, and Patrick leans in to whisper in my ear. “I can’t wait to strip you bare of this monstrous dress and sink my cock deep inside you.”

Bile rises in my throat, and I have to pull away from him before the smell of his cologne puts me over the edge. I don’t think anyone would appreciate me puking on the priest. On second thought, maybe that would get me out of marrying him.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest cuts off my thought by starting his speech. “We are gathered here today?—”

“NO ONE MAKES A MOVE!” Someone yells from behind me, and the whole room erupts into chaos.

Ignoring the man’s orders, I spin around to face whoever is interrupting this ceremony. My heart freezes in my chest as I take in the situation. Two masked men have entered through the side door. Both are holding guns. And one of those guns is pointed at me.

Before I can even comprehend what is happening, Patrick grabs me from behind, dragging me in front of his body as he takes a few steps back. I’m so shocked that it takes me a minute to realize what is going on.

This fucking prick is using me as a human shield!

“I said don’t move!” One of the masked men growls, but Patrick keeps pulling me backward. His meaty fingers dig into my arms painfully, making me wince.

For each small step we take back, the masked man takes a larger one toward us, and a moment later, he closes the distance between us. Now he’s right in front of me, making me notice how tall he is. I look up at his face, which is covered by a black ski mask. Only his dark blue eyes are visible to me, but it’s enough to see the storm brewing inside of him. His pupils are dilated, and the deadly glare he is giving me would make a grown man quiver.

His voice matches his death stare to a tee. “You took something from us, Patrick. Now we’re taking something from you.” He moves the gun beside my head, pointing it at Patrick.

Mystery man takes one more step toward me, eating up every inch of space until his body is pressing up against mine. Suddenly, there is nothing but him. I can’t see anything besides the black fabric covering his broad chest. I can’t feel anything besides his hand circling my wrist. And I can’t hear anything besides his gravelly voice demanding I go with him.

Patrick practically shoves me into the stranger’s arms, and before I can come to my senses, I bury my nose into his chest and take a deep breath. He smells like the forest after the rain, a smell I particularly love because it reminds me of the walks my mom used to take me on before she got sick.

I suck in a deep breath, holding on to that happy memory for as long as I can. I’m catapulted back to reality when the stranger grabs my hips, picks me up, and throws me over his shoulder. I drop the bouquet of flowers I forgot I was holding with a surprised yelp. Then my world turns upside down, literally and figuratively.

Tilting my head up, I catch sight of my father’s pale face as I’m carried out of the chapel. He doesn’t even try to stop them. He just stands there in shock, watching as two armed men kidnap me.

I have no idea what is happening, where they’re taking me, or if I’m even going to survive the day. I’m glad my mother couldn’t come today; she is the only person I would actually be worried about now.

The two men speed walk out of the building and down the side alley. With each of my kidnapper’s steps, I bounce on his shoulder. Just when I think my stomach can’t take it any longer, he slides me off and shoves me into the back of a van. My veil is a tangled mess, making it hard to see as it’s bunched up in front of my face. I push it off and try to regain my bearings.

He follows me inside, and I scoot away from him until my back is pressed against the side of the van. A moment later, the door is closed, and the second guy gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars to life, and we start moving so suddenly that I almost fall over.

My kidnapper moves his arms as if he is going to catch me, but I only recoil at his attempt. “Don’t touch me,” I warn, though my voice is a bit too shaky to have any real threat behind it.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You kidnapped me!”

“We saved you from marrying that pig. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Well, I can’t argue with that.

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