Page 16 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
“There’s a credible threat on your life… Your friend’s video went viral!”
Already?
Achilles was catching up to them. The wind blowing through his jacket and partially unbuttoned shirt, making him look less like a groom and more like a pirate ready to steal away with his prize.
Bris twisted back to her father. “Who wants us dead?”
“Everyone, Brissy.” Her father’s rigid expression never broke, but it did now, and the stark terror she saw there shocked hereven more. He’d lost her mother the last time they’d run from trouble. “We’re untangling the specifics now.”
She hated being in the dark. “Where’s our security?”
“No time to properly vet anyone. I barely trust our pilot… just another reason to send Achilles with you.” He glanced over at him, watching as the man in question approached with that familiar determined stride. Achilles had spent months training with the Myrdons, learning their brutal methods—how to handle their firearms, how to think like them—for better or worse, he’d become exactly the kind of weapon they needed. Her father tugged her closer with a sharp hiss: “Put Achilles under your thumb, my girl. You know how it’s done.”
She’d strangled back her gasp as the shock rushed through her. She felt cold, very cold. Her father then pulled back, his eyes going to Achilles as he closed in on them. “I’m leaving you both in good hands,” he said. “I trust my advisors to prepare the palace for your arrival.”
Put Achilles under her thumb?
What did that even mean? How was that even possible? She’d never met a more independent, rebellious soul.
“One more thing,” her father shouted over the whirring helicopter blades. His hand clamped down on Achilles’s shoulder as he reached them. “If anything happens to my daughter—anything at all—I’ll hold you personally responsible. Do I make myself clear?”
Achilles met the older man’s stare without flinching. “I’m not doing this for you.” He leaned closer to Bris. “I’m doing it for her.”
The two men held each other’s gaze for a long moment before her father nodded curtly.
Bris felt Achilles’s warm palm press against the silk of her dress as he slipped his arm around her waist to guide her toward the helicopter. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through her,making her breath catch. His touch was gentle but protective in a way that made her feel both safer and more confused than ever.
She let out a shaky breath. All she wanted was for Achilles to hold her like he’d done after they’d given their vows, to feel that security again.
Why would he do that?
Achilles turned to her, his hand steady on her back as he helped her into the helicopter. His gaze was distant—not like a husband at all. After that, he refused to touch her.
She got it! She got it—this wasn’t the usual marriage. Their wings had been cut, and they weren’t free to live their own lives anymore, but all the heaviness brimming below the surface of their usually easygoing conversation was driving her crazy!
The helicopter’s engines roared to life as they lifted off the ground. The pilot—a hardened man with steel-gray hair and suspicious eyes that kept glancing back through the side window—said nothing as they ascended into the darkening sky.
Bris folded her arms around her waist, trying to stay warm. The citrus sunset melted from the sky to plunge them into a pitch blackness that made her feel disoriented and out of sorts.
Her knee kept brushing up against Achilles. The guy was doing his best to impersonate a statue. The helicopter was too loud to talk about anything going on between them anyway. Normally, she’d use it as an excuse to get close. Maybe then he’d hear her shouts, but things were too weird.
They were husband and wife. How were they supposed to act towards each other now? Evenshefelt uncomfortable.
Put Achilles under her thumb? Ha! She prayed she could at least hold on to their friendship.
Her mind kept going back to that mind-blowing kiss from earlier—the way his lips had claimed hers with such unexpected passion. What had possessed Achilles to do that? If he wanted to keep her at a distance, that was the last thing he should’ve done.Now she only wanted him to brush her hair from her face and continue where he’d left off.
Their only witness was the pilot. Tender kisses between newlyweds would probably look less odd than their tense silence.
“Warning,” she said, raising her voice slightly over the helicopter’s steady thrum, and without another word, she kicked off her shoes and started pulling at her hair, feeling it topple down around her shoulders as soon as she got out the pins. Ahh, she should’ve done this hours ago.
She worked on her jewelry next… though not the ring. The way that Achilles had slipped it on over her finger had felt oddly sweet. No, she might never take that off.
Silly girl. He meant nothing by it.
She began to work on her silk stockings, rolling them down. She leaned against Achilles as she did so, like she would’ve done only a few days ago. See? What was she so worried about? Nothing had changed between them really, and he made a convenient wall to steady herself with.
His hands clapped over hers, stopping her from taking off anymore.
