I can’t.Can’t stand down, can’t breathe, can’t think past the rage burning through my veins. Because he hit her. My father hit Saint, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to retaliate.
Roman watches my struggle with cold satisfaction. “There it is. The real reason you married her. Not to protect her from me. Not even because you wanted her.” He steps closer, and I can smell the beer on his breath. “You married her because you’re in love with her. She’s your weakness.”
“I’m not?—”
“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’ve been watching you watch her. Seen the way you look at her when you think no one’s paying attention.” His smile is vicious. “You’re soft for this girl. And soft men don’t survive in this family.”
Behind him, Levi’s helping Saint back into her chair. Her cheek is already swelling, an angry red handprint stark against her pale skin. She’s not crying, though. Not giving Roman the satisfaction.
“This is my fault,” I say, forcing my voice to steady. “Not hers. If you’re going to punish someone, punish me.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Roman nods at Kade. “Let him go.”
Kade releases me, and I stumble forward, catching myself on the edge of the table. Roman’s fist catches me in the gut before I can straighten, driving the air from my lungs. I double over, gasping.
“That’s for getting married without permission,” Roman says.
The second blow catches me across the jaw, snapping my head to the side. Pain explodes through my skull, bright and sharp.
“That’s for making me look like a fool in front of the whole town.”
The third hit lands on my ribs, and I hear something crack. I drop down to one knee, and the coppery tang of blood fills my mouth.
“And that’s for thinking you could keep secrets from me.”
Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Saint’s voice. “Stop! Please, stop. He didn’t?—”
“Sit down, girl, before I give you the same punishment.” Roman’s boot connects with my shoulder, and I hit the floor. “Your husband needs to learn his place, and clearly, words aren’t enough to penetrate his skull.”
Another kick, this time to my stomach. I curl into myself, trying to protect my vital organs, trying to breathe through the pain.
“Dad.” Levi’s voice, strained. “That’s enough.”
“I’ll decide when it’s enough.” Roman crouches beside me, grabbing a fistful of my hair to force my head up. “You listening, Calder?”
I manage a nod.
“Good. Because here’s how this is going to work. You want to keep this girl? Fine. But she becomes a Bishop properly. Full ceremony. Branding, the works.” He releases my hair and lets my head drop back to the floor. “And you’re going to watch every second of it. Going to remember what it costs to defy me.”
Saint makes a sound like a wounded animal. “Branding? What does that?—”
“It means,” Roman says, standing and brushing off his jeans like he didn’t just beat his son half to death, “that you get marked as Bishop property. Hot iron, right here.” He touches his hip. “Same as every woman who marries into this family. My wife has one. My mother had one. And you’ll have one too.”
“No.” Saint’s voice is small but defiant. “I won’t. You can’t?—”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want, girl. This is my family. My rules.” Roman walks back to the head of the table and picks up his beer like nothing happened. “The ceremony happens on Monday. I’ll give you a couple of days to prepare and give the mark time to heal before we deal with the next part.”
“What’s the next part?” Saint asks, and I want to tell her to stop talking, to stop asking questions she doesn’t want the answers to.
Roman’s smile is pure evil. “The wedding ceremony, of course. Can’t have a proper Bishop marriage without that. We’ll save that discussion for after the branding.”
The room spins. I try to push myself up, but my ribs scream in protest. Hands grab my arms, Levi on one side, Sawyer on the other, hauling me to my feet.
“Get him out of here,” Roman says dismissively. “And take his wife with him. I’m done looking at them both for tonight.”
Levi helps me toward the door while Sawyer goes to Saint. Through the haze of pain, I watch him help her stand, watch the way she moves like she’s made of glass, like she might shatter at any moment.
“Calder.” Roman’s voice stops us at the doorway. “One more thing.”
