Page 30 of Sunshine & Ink

I couldn’t even stand up to Angel. Or Elizabeth.

Raker would have to be our baby’s strength.

But as I stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner, Raker broke into my reverie, glaring angrily at me over thecounter. He gripped my shirt and dragged me around the counter to stand in front of him.

Carrots and onions and mushrooms all scattered on the floor as his eyes spat fire at me.

I had never seen him look like this.

Of course, I knew he had a temper and I knew he was a dangerous man, but he had never directed it at me.

“Sunni,” he said, and his voice fell like a hard metal bar across my back, and I had to clutch the side of the counter to keep my knees from giving way.

“I wasveryclear about what your place is here and how to stay in it. And now I find out that you have been talking to my fiancée about having babies!Elizabethis going to be my wife.Youare the whore that warms my bed. What else did you tell her? I’ll give you one chance to come clean.”

“I didn’t—“ I began. “I didn’t say anything to her.”

“Did you or did you not tell her you wanted a baby with me?” Raker demanded.

My stomach plummeted to my feet.

No no no no no no no no no no no

That was not how this was supposed to go. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t have the words yet. . .

I felt frozen with indecision, and Raker’s dark eyes hardened further.

“Answer the question, Sunni.”

“I didn’t—that wasn’t—"

He let go of my shirt instantly. “Youare forbidden from talking to her again. You have lost your privileges and you can take your things and stay in the common room for now.”

As he turned away in contempt, tears prickled at the corner of my eyes and all my words felt so tangled up and confused that I did something very foolish.

“You don’t love her, Raker! I know you don’t!”

A muscle throbbed in his jaw, his face looking impossibly harsh and remote, like he was another person. Not someone who I had foolishly allowed to hope loved me back.

“Don’t get in myfucking face, Sunni, and talk to me about love. You’re running your mouth about things you don’t understand and don’t concern you. You are here to be a wet cuntonly. Not presume to tell me who I can and cannot marry.”

I shut my mouth then, feeling the light inside me shrivel up and die. But it was too late.

“Come with me,” he said, stalking out with his long legs into the common room of the clubhouse.

I followed miserably behind.

“Apostle, get over here,” he said. “Angel, you too.”

Nausea roiled inside me and I wanted to throw up.

Oh god no

“Raker, I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat feeling dry. “Please don’t.”

But he ignored me.

Apostle’s eyes seemed to gleam as they drew closer, his hands clasped in front of him, his face schooled in his usual mild expression.

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