Page 52 of Captive Bride

"Mimosas are breakfast, but I hear you," she mused, propping herself up on one elbow. "Sobriety does seem to be the theme of the day."

Her attempt at humor brushed against me, but the smile it sought was lost, adrift in the sea of unease that had become my constant companion. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. She watched me, her green eyes sharp and discerning. It was a look that knew too much, saw too deeply, and I felt the dam inside me begin to crack.

"Sometimes, I wonder if we'll ever get out of this mess," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper as the fears I'd been holding at bay spilled forth. "Will we ever just...live? Without looking over our shoulders or questioning every shadow?"

Carmen's face softened, the firebrand businesswoman yielding to the sister who had held my hand through every scrape and heartache. "Babe," she said, reaching for my hand, "we've made it this far."

I looked at the sleeping twins, but shook my head. “I wouldn’t change them for anything. I already love them so much. But Carm, I keep thinking about that conversation we had when you told me about Dad’s plans to marry me off to Tristan. I could have…I should have ran. I slept with him instead.”

“I have problems with Tristan, but he is very handsome. Can’t blame you for that.”

I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. "It's not just about Tristan being handsome. I made a choice that night, andnow..." I glanced at the cribs where Catherine and Matteo slept peacefully. "Now everything's so complicated."

Carmen squeezed my hand. "Hey, you can't beat yourself up over this. We all make choices, Ade. Some work out, some don't. But those babies? They're not a mistake."

"I know," I whispered, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "God, I know. I love them so much it terrifies me. But I'm scared for them too. What kind of life can we give them, mixed up in all this?"

“You’re the bravest, smartest person I know,” she replied. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re my sister and I love you. You’ll figure it out.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I’ll go back to bullying you after this is all over.”

I laughed. I laughed. I wiped my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me. "I just wish I could go back and do things differently sometimes. Make smarter choices."

Carmen sat up and pulled me into a hug. "Hey, no use dwelling on what-ifs. We're here now, and we'll figure it out together. That's what family does."

I leaned into her embrace, drawing strength from her unwavering support. After a moment, I pulled back and managed a small smile. "You're right. We've made it this far."

"Damn straight," Carmen nodded. "And once we're back in Boston, we're going to have that drink and watch terrible movies until we can't see straight."

The thought of returning home, of finding some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos, brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. "I wasn't sure we'd ever make it back," I admitted softly.

Carmen's expression softened. "Don’t be silly, Ade. We always do.”

Maybe it was my imagination…but she didn’t sound sure.

And that scared me.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Tristan

Every step was a battle, each movement sending stabs of agony lancing through me. But I had no choice. Gritting my teeth, I forced one foot in front of the other, refusing to let the pain win. The weight of what needed to be done bore down on me as heavily as the throbbing in my leg.

"Here," Kieran's voice was flat, his face unreadable as he handed me a chain, heavy and cold in my hands. We stood, side by side, in the sterile light of the garage that held the remnants of David and Amber Miller. The dismemberment had been methodical, necessary. Now, it was time to ensure they'd never resurface.

"Let's do this quick." My voice came out strained as I started wrapping the chain around what used to be David. His chiseled features, once full of life, were now void of the loyalty that had driven him. Kieran worked in silence across from me, his fingers deftly securing chains around Amber's athletic limbs. Her reddish blonde hair, once vibrant, lay dull against the sand on the concrete floor of the parking lot.

"Got enough dumbbells?" I asked, nodding toward the stack of weights we'd pilfered from the home gym. They'd serve as anchors, an ironic end given their dedication to physical strength in life.

"Enough to keep them down," Kieran replied, his cryptic tone at odds with the grim task at hand. He didn't need to say more; we both understood the gravity of the situation. Our legacy, our survival—it all hinged on moments like these.

Together, we worked, the clink of metal filling the air as we shackled the dead within their watery graves. It was a brutal necessity, one that chipped away at whatever innocence we had left.

"Done," Kieran said after a moment that stretched too long, his voice cutting through the early morning stillness. We stood there, brothers in blood and burden, bound by actions that would haunt us forever.

"Let's move." My command was terse, born of a desire to get this over with. We lifted the weighted remains with concerted effort, carrying the burden of our sins toward the waiting embrace of the ocean.

The ocean's horizon was still a dark smudge against the lighter sky as Kieran and I made our way across the deserted beach, the dead weight in our hands a grim reminder of what had transpired. Sand gave way under our boots, each step sinking us deeper into both the earth and the quagmire of our actions. Fuck, this was agony. We moved quickly, as quickly as I could, but with care, our breaths misting the chilly air.

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