I don’t know if she’s asking why I chose to hijack her wedding or why Luke was going to pretend to marry her only to sell her body, so I don’t answer. She covers her face with her hands, and I pull her into me, holding her tightly while she clings to my bloody clothes.
I wasn’t innocent. I married my wife for revenge. I always suspected Whitney was still alive, but I had no proof. But I never thought making Lake my wife would bring Whitney out of hiding. Or save Lake from a life of slavery.
They gave up one daughter to offer up the other. I wanted to rub it in their faces that Lake was a whore—my whore. I fucked her every chance I got, any way I wanted. She needed to crave me. Want me. Need me. It would only work if I trained her to serve me.
The collar I gave Lake was the very same collar that Luke had purchased for Whitney as her wedding gift. I saw it in her bag when she came over to see me at the house of Lords. When she pretended to love me. I was pretending too, but I wasn’t trying to set her up for something.
I made sure Lake wore it for the wedding, my not-so-subtle hint that I knew what they had done three years ago. Just another way to show off my bride.
Pulling away, she sniffs and wipes her face free of the tears. Her bloodshot eyes look up at me. “Can we go home?”
I give her a smile, pushing her dark hair back behind her ear. “I need to go talk to Ryat for a second. Will you be okay by yourself?” I’d offer to take her downstairs with me, but I don’t want her getting sick again. I’m not sure if that was the pregnancy, nerves, or the fact that she saw herdeadsister. It could have been a combination of all three.
She nods. “Yeah.” And rubs her hands on her bare thighs.
I kiss her forehead. “I’ll only be a second, and then we’ll leave.”
LAIKYN
I sitin the front pew, staring at the chair knocked over by the Lords’ table and the blood that covers it and the floor. Tyson pulled out all of Luke’s teeth. One by one with a pair of pliers. I’m going to hear his screams every time I close my eyes for a while now.
But nothing will compare to the woman I saw mutilated and thrown into a grave. She was unrecognizable. But I knew it was her because I recognized the folder that Tyson had shown to Collin in his office the morning after he fucked me in the ass.
I can’t help but feel responsible for her. If I had said something to Collin the morning he showed up at Blackout with the other cop, maybe they could have found her and saved her in time. But who knows if he had a hand in the poor girl’s disappearance.
Would I have ended up like that if Tyson had not married me? Probably. I reach up and the loss of my collar makes my breath quicken. My sister had it on when the Spade brothers carried her out of here. I need something to replace it. It doesn’t have to shock me, but something to show the world that I belong to Tyson Crawford. I’m his Lady. The ring—that I’m still missing—isn’t enough. Wives wear a ring to show they’re married. I need something more. Our marriage isn’t traditional, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not like I put up much of a fight anyway.
I wish I knew then what I know now. I would have let him put that collar, leash, and gag on me. I would have crawled down this long aisle, leaving a trail of my drool behind me to be his whore in front of my family just to piss them off. Embarrass them.
Tyson sacrificed his life for me—his future, his career. Everything. I could never give him that. I have nothing on that scale to offer. He even lost Blackout because of me. When will it end? When will I stop costing him his life? What he’s worked so hard for?
The sound of the double doors opening have me spinning my head around, but I don’t see anything there. I stand. “Hello?” I holler, my eyes searching the entrance.
The Cathedral is eerily quiet. Creepy when it’s empty. The stained glass windows howl from the wind outside. The old wood creaks. It’s cold, sending a chill down my spine.
“Tyson?” I call out, thinking that maybe he had to go outside for something. But still nothing. Wrapping my arms around myself, I walk over to the door that I know leads to the hallway and office. I’m not sure how to get to the basement, but I watched him go this way so it’s a start.
I turn the knob and open the door but quickly take a step back as I scream in surprise. “What are you doing here?” I ask, rushing out.
“Luke called me.” His dark eyes look around the Cathedral. “Where is he?” His eyes fall to the blood, and his jaw sharpens.
I take another step back, but it’s putting me farther away from the door, which is where I want to be.
“Where is he, Lake?” he snaps.
“I … I don’t know,” I stammer.
“You always were a shitty liar.” He reaches for me, and I jump out of the way, running around the Lords’ table, but he leaps onto it and jumps off, managing to grab my hair. Yanking my back to his front, I cry out, and he shoves me to the floor.
I glare up at him as he smirks down at me. “Why were you so mad when I was forced to marry Tyson when you knew the wedding to Luke wasn’t going to be real?” I’m so tired of not knowing the truth. Of having to guess and be way off.
He snorts. “It’s funny that you think anyone would want you, Lake.” He reaches for me again, and I kick out my foot, making contact with his knee. Grunting, he lunges for me and yanks me to my feet with a hand around my arm and pulls my back to his front.
“Because he was in on it.”
“Ty—” My brother slaps his hand over my mouth, spinning us both around to see my husband has joined us, gun drawn and pointed right at Miller. I want to cry in relief, but I have to try and take a calming breath through my nose.
“Let her go, Miller,” Tyson demands with his arms out, gun trained on my brother.
