Page 38 of Captive Bride

I absolutely refuse to cry here, in front of this man.

Tristan Montague.

The enemy who even now makes my heart race in a way that has little to do with fear.

I feel the ghost of his hands on me, the aftertaste of his tongue in my mouth.

I render myself clean of the thoughts, reminding myself that he isn’t who I thought.

He isn’t my rescuer.

He’s not the embodiment of a desire held for too long.

He’s a Montague, a criminal who saw an opportunity in my weakness, something he could exploit.

I, lost in my own hell, allowed him that. I gave him everything he needed to capitalize on my fear.

Guilt brings the tears rushing back to my eyes, and I bite my lip, forcing them into retreat.

Not here. I can’t cry here.

My mind is a treacherous place, filled to the brim with pitfalls.

I refocus my attention, instead of listening to my captors as they drone on.

“Estbow Manor,” a voice says. It’s one I already feel I know well—the voice of Tristan Montague. “We have to get her out of the city.”

“It’ll have to be there,” one of the other men says. “Nowhere in the city is safe.”

I bite my tongue to keep from chiming in.

They’re fools, all of them.

No place is safe. Not from father.

His wrath doesn’t know any bounds.

They could drag me kicking and screaming to Mars; he’d find me even there.

The thought of my father makes my stomach fold into a knot. Rather than feeling comforted by his imminent rescue, I feel a deep sense of dread.

He’ll find me all right; he’ll find all of us.

He’ll flay them alive for this insult.

Part of me wants to warn them, to turn and tell them all that they have to take me back.

Continuing down this path won’t gain them anything but a painful death.

I refocus my eyes on the window.

I can’t help them now.

Father will find us, blood will spill, and I’ll wear flawless white to my wedding with the Governor.

Nothing has changed—or ever will.

Thoughts of my father paw at my mind, unsettling me to my core. Eventually they lead elsewhere, to those who might really be worried that I’m gone.

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