Page 28 of Bitter Arrangement

I’m just sick of people treating me like an idiot.

“Give me time to fix this,” he says, staring at me with that bizarre, intense stare, like he’s trying to see under my skin. Or just under my dress. “For now, you’re staying here.”

I pull back in surprise. “Wait, you mean I’m moving in?”

“That’s what wives normally do.”

“Good thing this isn’t a real marriage, right?”

“It’s real,” he says, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “Otherwise, I’d hand you over to the Mantis right now and let them cut your throat.”

“Then do it if that’s what you want so badly. Go ahead, I fucking dare you.” I grip the glass tightly, shoulders hunched. Anger rushes into my core. I want to scream, but I know this isn’t his fault. He’s not the one who dragged us into this.

It was my fault. My stupid impulsiveness.

All because my dad treats me like a child.

And maybe he’s right. That’s the kicker.

“Don’t you get it?” Alexan asks. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Why even bother?”

“Because you’re mine.” He puts his wine down and comes around the island. I back away, keeping space between us.

“We’re married. But I’m not yours. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Great, I get it, you stalked me for a couple of weeks and we had that one afternoon?—”

“When you got off in my bed.”

“When I made another stupid, impulsive mistake.” That’s starting to sound like the story of my life, actually. “But we’re nothing. You owe me nothing. I don’t want you doing this whole protector thing only to turn around and act like I should be worshipping you or something. Because that’s not me.”

“Is that what you think? My love, if you’re going to get on your knees for me, it’s not in fuckingworship.”

I stare at him, my mouth opening. What is wrong with this man? Even right now, when apparently we’re dealing with life or death stakes, he’s still talking dirty?

And I’m cursed to freakinglikeit.

“I’m going to bed,” I announce because this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere. At the look on his face, I clarify that it will definitely be alone.

He follows me to the steps and up into the hall. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”

“Fine, whatever, just right now I need to sleep and think.” I pause at the door to his guest room. The bed’s been made up with new sheets since the last time I was here. I wonder if he changes them often, or if this was for me.

I hesitate before going in. He’s watching carefully like he wants to say something. I take a breath and hold it, and some of my frustration fades.

“I know I’m not being fair,” I say without looking back at him. “This has just been a long day and I’m not at my best. Thank you for not turning me in.”

“You’re welcome,” he says from the shadows across the hall. “You’re my wife now, Riley. Like it or not, we’re in this together.”

“You and me, a regular old team.”

“Something like that.”

I glance back at my husband. I’m struck by how beautiful he is. Big and dark with an athletic body.

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