Page 28 of Married in Misty Mountain

When my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, I try to shut the door in his face.

But Derek Creevy acts fast, shoving his way into my apartment.

He snatches my phone out of my hand and shoves it into his back pocket.

I scream as he backs me into the corner of the room, one hand on his holster. “Where have you been, sweetheart?”

His sickly-sweet voice belies the evil brewing underneath.

“I’m not your sweetheart. See?”

I show him the ring on my finger, and he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to be? Did you get that from a gumball machine just to ward me off?”

“It’s true, Derek. I really am married. And my husband will be here any minute, so you should get out of here.”

“Nice try,” he says. “I think you’d better come with me.”

“What do you want from me?” I argue, searching the room for anything I can use as a weapon.

“I think you know.”

“The church is gone. The compound has been destroyed. The land sold off. The elders are all in jail, and everyone else is scattered. It’s time to give up. You lost.”

He shakes his head slowly and clicks his tongue at me. “The last remnants are putting things back together. The Prophet will have the last word.”

The mention of The Prophet makes my stomach churn. “It’s not too late to admit it was all a mistake, Derek. It’s okay to be wrong. You can just walk away. You don’t have to listen to what they say.”

This tactic does not work.

The next thing I know, I have a gun to my head, and the man I got engaged to at 13 is forcing me down the dark staircase and out the back door.

The last thing I see before everything goes black is Derek waving the gun around as he explains things to me. “One day you’ll thank me for rescuing you from this town full of drunks. It was too easy to get you back when the entire town is getting wasted at the pub. One day. One day, you’ll see.”

He slams the trunk closed, and I’m thrown into complete darkness.

Chapter Twelve

Hurley

The men in this town can drink. In fact, I think most of them were already well into their cups before I showed up to the party.

Fortunately, none of them have noticed that I’m not drinking anything but water. Maybe I lied and said it was vodka, and the bartender played along.

I was never around a lot of drinking before I was kicked out of the church. And after the fact, it never appealed to me. I’ve always been in survival mode. Gotta keep my wits about me at all times.

But along with that comes walls. I’ve built up walls around me and never let anyone in, not even the people of Misty Mountain who genuinely like me.

Tonight, I’m actually enjoying the company of other people.

And it puts me in an even better mood, and I feel all the more excited to see Shenna. I can’t wait to bring her home.Boundaries be damned. We pretty much obliterated all boundaries when I lost control and made her come on my hand in the alley behind the general store.

I keep that story to myself when the guys ask how married life is treating me.

We need to proceed carefully. I need to do better, and keep control of my emotions. At least until Shenna is ready to discuss whether this thing we have is a real relationship, or one of convenience.

Earlier in the evening, Jack mentioned that Shenna had invited Clara to hang out at her house instead of going to Hank and Clara’s house for the evening. I decided it was fine. I’ve been overbearing with her, and I have to let her make her own decisions. No one will try anything tonight, especially if Clara keeps her company.

But when I park my truck next to Shenna’s broken-down car and look up at the third floor, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the fact that all the lights are off.

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