Page 63 of King of Wrath

I don’t even speak as I hand him his phone. Our fingers brush, though I try to ignore the jolt of electricity that passes through me, as I sit up. I still don’t look at him. I can’t.

He takes the phone but doesn’t even look at the screen. Instead, he’s sinking down in front of me, balancing on the balls of his feet, resting his elbows on his knees. “Are you regretting what we just did?”

A wild laugh bubbles up my chest. Regret doesn’t even begin to touch what I feel. “Regret?” I shake my head, steal suddenly stiffening my spine. “That’s one word…”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“You really are just like my daddy,” the last word comes out as a sneer.

His brow scrunches. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“A gangster. Ready to throw me away when I’m not convenient anymore.” The words sound far away, like someone else is speaking them.

“I promised to marry you.”

“Lie,” I push out on a half sob. “It’s a lie, isn’t it?”

His mouth purses into a line, his eyes wincing with regret.

I push up, spinning and darting past him. I don’t know where I think I’m going, there is nowhere to go.

But there is more space in the living room and kitchen, and I run out there, stopping in the space where the kitchen ends and the living room begins.

He’s right behind me and I spin to…I don’t even know…scream, fight, cry. He hooks my waist and pulls me close.

I don’t melt into him, but I can’t deny that as his scent fills mynostrils, I want to. How crazy that the very man who is going to end me is the one I want to protect me. “I hate you,” I whisper into his chest.

“Why? Tell me. What happened?”

He methodically planned, so I know he knows I saw something on his phone. He’s far too smart to not have made the connection. “Why don’t you look?”

“Because,” he lets out a long breath, his hand coming to the back of my head. “I want you to tell me.”

I stand there, his body pressed to mine, one hand on the small of my back, one in my hair. I don’t lean my body against his, but I do put the weight of my skull in his hand, tipping my head back to look into his eyes.

God, his eyes are this gray that’s like the sea during a storm. They’ve always captivated me, held me hostage, and I pause now, lips parting as my heart does that flip it always does when my gaze meets his.

“Are you really going to marry me or is that just some sick joke?”

His eyes widen in a way that makes him look guilty. “What are you talking about?”

But I don’t answer as a strange sound catches my ear. We’ve been in the middle of nowhere for days and I didn’t even notice that there was no car noise, no engines running, no sounds other than the nature around us.

My head cocks as I listen.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, but his hands don’t leave me, if anything they tighten. “It’s a chopper.”

“Helicopter?” I look back at him, fear making my thoughts slow. “Who?”

“I’m not sure,” he steps back then but he takes my hand, pulling me with him. “Put on jeans and a T-shirt. Something sturdy. Drink your coffee. We’ll talk as soon as I figure out what’s going on but do not, for one second, think that we are not getting married. We are. I meant every promise I made.”

I don’t even know what to do with that. His family would say he’s lying. And their message chain clearly states they intend to dump me.

But I do what he says, because he’s right. Whatever’s coming, I’ll do better if I’m not in a dress.

I wiggle myself into jeans as Jake puts on a shirt and I hear him rumble behind me.

“What?” I turn, worried, he’s seen something, but his eyes are on me.

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