“Marriage is more than making it work, and making the other person happy. What about love?”
“Love? It would be ridiculous to let feelings get involved in our situation.”
“Why?” The way her voice cracks makes my heart ache.
I’m attracted to Saint, and I definitely want to fuck her, but loving her? I’m not sure I’m capable of that. Then there’s the fact that, in my family, marriage is about survival and alliances, not affection. I don’t want to be another nail in her coffin, but I also don’t want to lie to her. I stare straight ahead as I speak, knowing that if I see her face, if I see any more tears on her cheeks today, it will kill me.
“It’s just not a good idea. Falling in love with me would be the worst decision you ever made. Right beside marrying me. That would be the second worst.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Saint whispers after a long second. “Pretend to be in love with you, pretend that I’m happy.”
The last thing I need is her doubting herself, especially when both our lives depend on her making it believable to the town and to my father. “We’re past the point of doubt. You don’t have an option. We have to make it believable.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean without actually falling in love with you.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you every chance I get why you don’t want to fall in love with an asshole like me. Besides, you hate me anyway.” I smirk at her, but it doesn’t seem to help.
Thankfully, our drive is over. The cabin appears through the trees, isolated and hidden. Safe, for now. But it’s also a prison, and we both know it.
I put the truck in park and kill the engine. Neither of us moves. Shifting in my seat, I turn to explain what will happen next, to assure her we won’t be here forever.
“We’re going to stay here until the day of the rodeo. Then after we make our public debut as husband and wife, we will move into a house closer to the main home.”
“So your father can watch us?”
“Yes, but also because it’s required.”
“Okay.” That’s all she says. “Can we go inside now?”
All I do is nod, then open my door and climb out. She does the same and walks up to the cabin door, waiting for me to unlock it. Once inside, she moves straight to the bed, sitting down on the edge without looking at me.
I stand by the door, listening to the silence.
No tears. No screaming. Just...nothing.
Which is somehow worse.
I pour myself a whiskey from the bottle I keep hidden under the sink and lean against the small kitchen counter. Saint is my wife now.
Legally, officially mine in the eyes of God and the state of Montana. The ring on her finger proves it, the license with her father’s signature makes it real.
None of that changes the fundamental truth that I took her against her will, destroyed her life, and forced her into a marriage she never wanted.
There’s no redemption in that. No love story buried under the brutality.
I’m still a monster, and she’s still the woman I couldn’t let die.
I drain the whiskey and pour another, letting the burn distract me from thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Across the room, Saint has moved, lying down to face the bathroom. Her shoulders shake gently. I know she’s crying and doing her very best to hide it.
I grit my teeth and squeeze the glass in my hand.
I’ve done so many terrible things, so how does forcing Saint to marry me take the cake?Because she’s innocent, because she didn’t fucking ask for any of this to happen to her.
My only hope is that she survives this, even if that means she grows to hate me even more than she already does. I finish my second whiskey and consider a third, but decide against it. I need to stay sharp and in control. I can’t take her pain away, can’t make anything better, not yet. Especially when I know it’s only going to get worse. All I can do is plan for the next step.
In a few days, we’ll go to the rodeo. Show the whole town that Saint James is now Saint Bishop, accepted and claimed by the family everyone in this town fears. Make it so public, so undeniable, that even Roman will have to accept it. Only then will we see if this desperate gamble pays off or if I’ve just delayed the inevitable.
I grab a blanket from the trunk at the foot of the bed and spread it out on the floor on the opposite side of the cabin, as far from the bed as the small space allows.
