Page 197 of Poison Vows

“We need to talk,” he says in a low, soft tone that deceives his anger.

“Good. I want to talk to you too.”

“Where’s your ring?” he suddenly demands, staring at my left hand.

I fish out the ring from my jean pocket and give it to him. “Here, and I also want you to sign these.”

Emmett’s nostrils flare, his eyes flashing. He grabs my hand, completely ignoring the papers and unclenches my fingers before he slides my wedding rings back onto my left hand.

“Emmett.”

“If you take them off again, I’ll have them fused to your finger, Angel, don’t fucking push me!”

A shudder goes through me when I see the deadly promised flashing in his eyes.

“You’re exhausting me,” I mutter, shoving the papers against his chest. “Sign them!”

“What are those?”

From his tone, I know he knows exactly what they are.

“Emmett, let’s not play this game. Just sign the damn papers and let’s get this over with,” I say tiredly and go past him. “I’m tired and so are you. You already have a lot going on and I want to go home.”

“You are home.”

“This isn’t my home, and you know it!”

“Angel…”

I can’t take it anymore.

“Please, don’t call me that anymore,” I tell him with a level voice. This won’t be a screaming contest like before. I had time to think and see the world. I think I know exactly what I want now and I’m going all out for it.

“No,” he says stubbornly, following me back to the master bedroom where I have my suitcases open and ready to pack. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

I can feel a migraine coming on. “I don’t need your permission.”

“There’s a war going on.”

“And it has nothing to do with me.”

He snaps his mouth shut, his jaw clenching reflexively as he watches me with a hooded gaze.

“You’re my wife, how can this have nothing to do with you?” he snaps.

I look at him squarely.

“Let’s stop pretending now, shall we?” I say tiredly. “You got what you wanted from me. I was always going to get the short end of the stick. That’s on me, so you’re off the hook.”

“What’s going on here?” he asks, wrapping his thick, strong arm that could crash stone around my waist, and with his other hand he nudges my chin up with his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look at him. “What am I missing?”

“Nothing. I just finally caught up,” I whisper, pushing out of his hold.

He lets me go but I can sense his heavy frustration.

“Your brother will be home soon,” he announces with enthusiasm.

“Okay.”

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