Page 22 of Rescuing Our Bride

Anna.

She’s ours now. In every way that matters. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I thought the threat of financial ruin would be enough to keep Patrick in line and it has. So why do I keep looking over my shoulder like that fucker is going to pop out of the shadows and make a run at Anna? I’ve woken up in a cold sweat more nights than I care to admit plagued by dreams that he’s taken her, tortured her. Made her pay for everything we did.

Just like tonight.

More nightmares. My heart races, thudding in an erratic rhythm inside my chest like it’s about to burst. The sheets cling to my sweat-coated skin. The only thing that soothes me is the sound of Anna’s slow and steady breathing, and the weight of her arm draped over my stomach. She’s nestled between me and Mark. Safe and sound.

And I’m a fucking wreck.

I slip out of bed, careful not to wake either of them, and grab my laptop off the nightstand on my way down to the kitchen. I’m up and not going back to sleep after the horror show my subconscious created for me. Might as well make some coffee and run another scan on the offshore accounts I set up for Anna’s mom.

Barbara Garrison is now Margaret Williams. When she found out what her husband did to their daughter, and how he sold her to Patrick to pay off their debts, she was more than willing to come with us. We set her up with a new name, in a new hospital with new doctors, where her husband Richard and that piece of shit Patrick Calhoun can’t find her. The only thing that isn’t new is her treatment plan. If Mark and I could have changed that we would have, but she’s out of options. Her last chance to beat the cancer back into remission is aggressive and experimental.

It’s also rare.

The one thing that could link Garrison and Calhoun back to us. Hence the nagging, unshakable feeling that something is going to go wrong, like they’re watching us, watching Anna, and waiting to strike when we least expect it.

Coffee in hand, I fire up the laptop and log onto the bank’s website. The accounts look good and the balances check out, right down to the penny. I run through the hack I created to siphon money from Patrick’s account every month. Not enough to crumble and cause the financial downfall of his criminal empire, but enough to remind him that we could if we wanted to.

To remind him of the promise I made.

We bought a house with a yard, big enough for a growing family and a guest house for Anna’s mom—which according to the contractor should be finished by the end of the week. He’s been saying that for the last two weeks. It’s a sprawling rancher on a corner lot in an older, quieter part of town. A far cry from where I imagined Mark and I living but it’s close to the hospital and college campus where Anna enrolled to obtain her teaching degree. It’s perfect for her. Which means it’s perfect for us.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Anna’s sweet voice pulls me from the worries eating away at my brain and the numbers on the screen that I hoped would soothe them.

“You’re up early,” I say as I push off the stool I’m perched on at the kitchen counter and head her off to the coffeepot to fix her a cup with the perfect amount of sugar and cream. Light and sweet. Just the way she likes it.

“First day of classes. Don’t want to be late.” She takes the steaming mug, steals half my bagel from the plate beside my laptop, and takes a large bite. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip and the dollop of cream cheese at the corner of her mouth. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

Anna sets the partially eaten bagel back on my plate and plants a soft kiss on my cheek, her fingers tracing the tribal tattoo on my arm. She’s halfway across the living room when she stops and casts a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes are heated with desire when she asks if I’d care to join her.

That’s the only invitation I need.

Losing myself in Anna is the perfect way to forget everything. To let my troubles wash down the drain along with the evidence of my release after I fuck my good girl into oblivion in the shower on her first day of school.

15

ANNA

“You can do this,” I mutter to myself and peel my white-knuckled fingers from around the steering wheel of my powder blue VW bug. “It’s just college. No big deal, right? Not like being forced into an engagement with a total psycho, or kidnapped.”

Rescued. I can practically hear Mark and Jax’s teasing voices in my head.

With a huffed laugh, I turn off the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt. As far as pep talks go, it’s a little lackluster, but I take a deep breath, push back the nerves and anxiety, and get out of the car.

Before Patrick, I’d given up on my dreams of becoming a teacher when my mom got sick again. We couldn’t afford the tuition. Sure there was financial aid but being at my mom’s bedside was more important. Especially when I found out we couldn’t afford her hospital bills either. And after Patrick? Well, there’s no way he would have let me earn a degree and have any chance of independence, financial or otherwise.

It wasn’t until Jax and Mark stormed into my life that my dreams started to feel like a possibility again. And now, they’re becoming a reality.

For the first time in a long time, things are looking up. Mom is responding well to the treatments. Mark and Jax are insatiable but attentive. I’ve never felt so cared for, so loved in my entire life. And there’s been no sign of Patrick. I can finally see through the clouds, beyond the silver linings. I can see the sun and bask in its warmth. This is what happiness feels like.

“Anna? Is that you?”

I slow my pace, craning my neck over my shoulder to put a face with the unfamiliar voice calling to me from behind. Mark and Jax assured me we put enough miles between us and my hometown that no one should recognize my face, never mind know my name.

A shadow creeps over my peripheral. A hand latches onto my arm with an unyielding grip. Before I can demand this person let go of me or utter a cry for help, I feel the prick of a needle in my neck and an icy burn spread out under my skin.

I shouldn’t have slowed down. I should have been paying attention to my surroundings, kept going until I could slip into the safety of the crowd of students rushing into the English building up ahead. I shouldn’t have let myself get caught off-guard.

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