Page 40 of Whispers of Fire

I’m so fucked.

Rose is slowly getting under my skin as each day passes and I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to push her out. Not that I am a part of her plan anyway since she’s about to get married to another man. This thought makes my body tense and there’s an urge to protect her like I’ve never felt before. The pull is so strong she must see it on my face.

“Tell me about the wedding,” I ask coldly, trying to hide the fury bubbling under my skin like a volcano about to explode.

Furrowing her brows, she puts the palm of her hand flat on my heart, leaving my t-shirt as the only thing between our skin.

Don’t do this, Angel, my black heart’s gonna burst if you keep your hand on it.

Her gorgeous lips form a small “o” as she feels my fast heartbeat.

Taking a quick glance at my eyes, she then turns herself to take the notebook and starts to write quickly. After what seems like two whole minutes, she turns towards me, handin’ me the note with a shaking hand. I don't want to seem too invested so I take it slowly when in fact I'm just that close to snapping.

“The Shepherd, our leader, chose me as his bride. My parents are over the moon with the idea, it's a great honor for our family. I was raised for that, to get married in the Faithful Lambs community and make as much children as possible. I don’t expect you to understand. It’s… complicated. I don't really have a say in it,” I read with my blood sizzlin’ under my skin.

WHAT. THE. FUCK?

It's written like a poem learnt by heart, just like when I put my Glock on people's heads and they suddenly start to talk. I guess I have to find who's making her do this, cause from the pale look on her face, it’s not her choice. The last sentence makes me bite my fist, wanting to pace the room like a lunatic.

No fuckin’ way I'm lettin’ her go through with it.

“You don't have any say in this? At all?” I snap, making her step back as if I had physically push her.

Shit.

Last thing I want is to scare her, but right now I want to burn the world to the ground and find the fuckers who are planning on taking her freedom away.

“When is the, fuck, the wedding?” I say between gritted teeth.

“In two months,” she writes.

“The guy you're marryin’, he's sixty, right? Have you thought about what you would have to do with him to get children? Do you even want children now?”

Fuck, I've snapped . Happens rarely to a calm guy like me but fuck, if you don't get out of your skin for stuff like this then are you even alive?

I fist the note in my hand, crushing it, and throwing it on the counter between us. Then I stare at her, wishing to see any form of rebellion in her eyes, anythin’ that will tell me that's she's not okay with this. But she's not looking at me, avoiding my eyes, her hands fidgeting with the pen, her lips murmuring somethin’ I'll never be able to hear.

Scared.

That's what she looks like .

Tilting her head she writes, “How do you know that he is sixty years old?”

That's what she's wonderin’? Damn it, if I tell her that her fuckin’ fake Messiah buy guns from our warehouse to sell to different cartels around the country, will she believe me?

Giving her that piece of information would also give away what my club actually does.

Am I ready for her to run away so soon?

Yeah, you have to let her go.

Fuck, I can't keep that from her just for my sake. Running a hand in my hair, I exhale loudly like I'm about to jump off a cliff.

Will I will able to forget the look of disgust in her eyes when she'll eventually walk away from me?

For her, I'll do it. She needs to know the truth and I sure won't be another person lying to her.

Perhaps, fuck, perhaps she'll stay even knowin’ what I do.

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