Page 21 of Creatures in the Night

When I heard the door unlock, I stood up to walk around the couch, leaning up against the back, waiting for my bride to come inside. At first, I hadn’t believed her about leaving work, but almost an hour later, she was walking through her front door, and to her credit, she wasn’t a liar.”

As soon as she saw me, she froze, and when her dark eyes finally registered who I was, she said, “I waited until they found someone to cover the rest of the shift.”

I didn’t say anything as she turned to lock the door behind her, and it wasn’t until she flipped the light switch on that Declan’s earlier words resonated in my head. The rims of her eyes were red, and though I couldn’t know if the tears had been from rage, sadness, or despair, no one could argue that Shea had shed a few between work and here.

I didn’t like it.

“What did you tell them at work?” I asked, wanting to know what I was working with here.

She tossed her purse on the couch as she said, “I just said that I couldn’t finish my shift.”

I eyed her as she remained at the edge of the couch, not taking any more steps closer to me. “They didn’t ask why?”

“No,” she answered, and if she was telling the truth, then that’s when the tears had probably started. For her boss not to ask any questions, then they had to assume it was an emergency of some sort for her to need to leave.

“Come here, lass,” I ordered, the feeling in my chest pissing me off something fierce.

“No,” she replied, and she was either too tired to know what she was doing, or she wanted out of this marriage enough to act suicidal.

“I will not tell you again,” I said.

“For what?” she asked stubbornly. “What more could you possibly want from me, Mr. Murphy? I mean, seriously, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just get some sleep before I have to type out my resignation letter in the morning.”

Christ.

“Quit calling me Mr. Murphy,” I ordered. “I mean it, lass.”

“Or else what?” she dared. “You’re going to divorce me? Kill me? Ruin my career?”

“I told you that you could finish your shift,” I reminded her. “All you had to do was call me by my name.”

“For what?” she shot back. “Why on earth would I keep my job now? So that you can continue to manipulate me with it?” Her back straightened, and the woman really was full of fire. “I’d rather quit with the little dignity that I have left than allow you to ruin my professional reputation by throwing your weight around.”

“Come. Here,” I repeated, angry that I wasn’t able to ignore her the way that I had planned.

“Or what?!” she yelled.

I was on her before she could even blink. Since she was a wee thing, it took not even a fraction of my strength to push her up against the wall, my right hand wrapped around her neck, the left one gripping her hip, pinning her to the painted drywall. Her dark eyes rounded, but that was because we both knew that it wouldn’t take much for me to snap her in two, and the way that I was feeling right now, that wasn’t off the fucking table.

“I think you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to, lass,” I told her. “You’re daring me like there aren’t things a lot far worse than death, or like I don’t know how to exact those horrible things. So, if I were you, I’d get my shit under control before I show you a side to your husband that no sane person would ever want to see.”

I was so close to snapping her neck that I let her go before taking a step back, giving her some space. This was not how I had envisioned my wedding night, and I sure as fuck hadn’t ever expected Shea to be so damn combative. Not for nothing, our reputations weren’t exaggerations, and we were a bloody lot, so I had counted on that to control the woman, but it wasn’t working so far.

Choosing to pick her battles, she said, “I just want some sleep.”

“Well, you’re not getting any,” I informed her. “In case you’ve forgotten, this is my wedding night.”

Her entire body froze, her eyes rounding for another reason now. “Wh…what?”

That’s when I really saw red.

That’s when I really had become a danger to her.

During all the fighting, I hadn’t paid close enough attention to what she’d been about, so I hadn’t noticed how she wasn’t wearing her wedding rings, and the anger that I’d been feeling earlier was nothing compared to the absolute fury that was coursing through my veins now, and I wasn’t equipped to deal with emotions this intense.

Doing my best to get my rage under control, I asked, “Where are your wedding rings, Shea?”

“In my purse,” she answered evenly. “We’re not allowed to wear jewelry if we’re covering an ER shift. We might not have the time to take them off if we’ve got a life-or-death situation.”

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