Page 62 of Deadly Oath

I can’t help but feel that I’ve fallen into my own trap, by asking Sabrina Petrova to marry me.

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I’m glad that I have an excuse to leave. I have a fight, and I’m already dangerously close to missing it by stopping to give Sabrina the ring. I should have just waited, but I couldn’t bring myself to, which is a problem in and of itself.

The fight gives me something else to focus on, and I let myself think only about that as I drive out to the warehouse, letting the anticipation build for the outlet that it provides. It’s a different kind of release, and I’m craving it almost as much as I crave the release of sex—which is one kind Iwon’tbe getting tonight.

As much as I know I’m going to want to go to Sabrina’s and fuck her when this is over, I’ve told myself that I won’t. Not tonight. I need space. I need to put my walls back up. And if I go to her tonight, with my ring on her finger and my emotions running high, it will be that much more difficult to accomplish.

I can already hear the raucous sounds coming from the warehouse as I pull up. There’s the smell of a bonfire further out behind it, and the air is bordering on cold as I slide out of the truck, grabbing my shorts as I head to the makeshift “locker room.”

This time, the odds on me winning are higher. Just that one thorough beating that I gave the favored fighter was enough to raise my esteem, and I plan on making it even better tonight. My hands are itching to curl into fists, my senses eager for pain and blood, for the rush of beating my opponent into the dirt. I need that release, that excuse to let out all the tangled, frustrated emotions that have been building up inside of me until it feels like I’m choking on them.

I barely notice the crowd cheering or hear anything that’s said as I head into the ring. My opponent, while beefier than the last guy I fought, looks nervous, and I wonder what the expression on my face must look like.

As soon as the start is called, I’m on him. My first blow goes directly for his jaw—whatever the crowd might want, I’m not here to put on a show—I’m here to win, as quickly and violently as possible. I want to stop thinking about how soft Sabrina’s expression was when she saw the ring, the way her voice sounded when she saidyes, I’ll marry you,the strange anger that pulses through me every time Iremember that she asked if I’d give her a divorce if she wanted one. I want to stop thinking about how it feels to claim her, to fuck her, the fact that she won’t be mine forever, and the stabbing pain in my chest every time I remember that.

I want to forget that while I’m supposed to be the hunter, and she the prey, I’ve somehow stepped into my own trap.

The man is on the ground before I even realize I’ve put him there, my knuckles coated with his blood, my chest heaving. He doesn’t get up, and I stagger back, realizing that I didn’t get hit even once. I’m almost disappointed—the pain of taking a hit is a kind of relief, too. A feeling that briefly eclipses all others, blocking out what I don’t want to feel.

A considerable wad of cash is pressed into my palm from the bookie as I leave the ring, and I shove it into my pocket, barely caring. A couple of the other guys on the card congratulate me as I walk past, and I nod, wanting nothing more, suddenly, than to be out of the hot, stifling warehouse.

I want to be back with Sabrina. And in that moment, as I realize that fact more strongly than ever, I promise myself something.

I won’t fuck her again until the wedding night. I’ll do my best to see her as little as possible, and play it off as romance, as building up the specialness of the occasion even though it’s a marriage of convenience. I’ll use that time to build my defenses back up, to remind myself of why I’m here. Of why this began in the first place.

The immediate resistance to that idea tells me that it’s the right decision.

Whether I like it or not.

25

SABRINA

Idon’t say anything about the ring, or the engagement, until my book club meeting the next evening. Once I see Marie, I know she’ll notice the ring immediately, and I prepare myself to answer all the questions, to somehow paint this as a whirlwind romance without the sting of danger that it actually has. The last thing I want is to explain my background, the mafia that’s trying to kidnap me for ransom, and my FBI handler to Marie and the others. They would all find it fascinating, but I would become something else, ‘other’ once again. Something to be examined and poked at and questioned, rather than what I’ve been trying to become—their friend.

Marie and Daphne’s, at least.

The minute I slide into the minivan, Marie’s eagle eyes land on the rock on my finger. “What thehell?” she exclaims, and I laugh, because it’s the first time I’ve heard Marie curse.

“Kian asked me to marry him,” I admit, and Marie’s eyes go rounder than I’ve ever seen them.

“Cindy is going to besojealous,” she breathes, and I laugh harder, the sound surprising me. But it feels good.

“It was worth saying yes, then.”

Marie laughs, too, backing out of my driveway and glancing back at my ring every few seconds. I look at hers—a tiny diamond set just above a plain gold band, and feel a pang of guilt. My ring looks nothing like the ones I’ve seen on other women here—Daphne’s is a tiny princess cut on a simple white-gold band, with a crushed diamond wedding band that is the fanciest ring I’ve seen on anyone I’ve met in Rivershade. Mine stands out, and I wonder—not for the first time—where Kian got that kind of money to buy the ring on my finger. Not only that—maybe he had savings—butwhy?

We’re not in love. That much is clear, even if my feelings about him have become deeper and more complex with every day that passes. And I don’t think he loves me, even if he says he cares about me—and even if some of his actions support that.Like barging into a warehouse alone, killing everyone keeping me captive.

But without love, without a typical romance or, barring that, the expectation of a large stone on a flashy ring to show wealth, why would he blow so much money on buying me an engagement ring? I hadn’t expected one, and he must have known that. Our marriage isn’t traditional, so I hardly expected that he would do anything else traditionally.

It doesn’t make sense. But the ring itself is astonishingly beautiful, and I’m glad he bought it for me, even if I don’t entirely understand the reasoning behind it.

“How did this happen?” Marie asks, as she turns onto the road towards Cindy’s house. “I’m happy for you, really—it just seems so fast. It’s not all that long ago you were wondering if you should even keep seeing him. And now you’remarryinghim? And after what happened that night at the Crow Bar…you haven’t even really told me what that was.” Her mouth twists a little, and I can see her struggling to understand.

“That night was awful,” I say quietly. “I can’t say a lot—it’s police business.” That’s not exactly true, and my throat tightens at the lie, but it’s the best I can do without having to explain an avalanche of things that I don’t want to go into. “Kian saved me, though. And I think that brought us closer together. It made us realize that we’vefound something special, and we don’t want to risk losing the chance to be together as soon as possible.”

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