“Papa,” I pleaded.
O dio sopra, save me!The prayer fell on deaf ears.
“Now.”
I scrambled to tug the veil over my face. Such a flimsy defense. Staggering forward, I fought the wave of nausea as I slid my arminto his crooked elbow. He caught me first. Those thick fingers pinched my tricep viciously.
I gasped in pain.
“Embarrass me in any way today, and you’ll be sorry, you little whore,” my father seethed.
Already I was sorry. Sorry that I hadn’t run. I wanted the safety of a plan, the security of money. But really, I wasn’t brave enough to fight back.
As we began our slow walk, I felt the eyes of the saints immortalized in the murals above. The stories said they went joyfully to death, serene and pious. I didn’t feel comradery with them. They didn’t lend me their strength. It might be easier, knowing an executioner waited at the end of their aisle.
My eyes latched onto the devil in black. Liam hadn’t turned. His broad shoulders, his towering height, he was the axe man waiting to behead me. So focused on the unbreakable force, I didn’t notice he wasn’t standing alone. A tall, blond specimen with inked snakes twisting and coiling on his throat, had turned to watch us walk.
Those blue eyes danced, and when he swallowed, the snakes bobbed. He said something, which at first didn’t register because it was too low. But as I listened, I realized it was in that misty, broken cadence of his motherland.
I didn’t plan to stick around long enough to learn Gaeilge, which was a shame, because it was a beautiful language.
When we were a dozen paces away, Liam pulled a deep breath into his lungs…and turned. His stormy eyes darkened as he looked at us. He strode forward, meeting us. Panic shot my heart to my throat. Papa stopped short, cheeks going bright red with splotches of purple. We hadn’t finished walking down the aisle. This wasn’t how it was done!
“I’ve got her from here,” Liam commanded. He stepped beside me, canting his head to the side.
The melody of the wedding march played in the background, but time seemed to still.
Slowly, Liam grasped the bottom of my veil, lifting it over my head. “There you are, cailín.”
My heart crashed against my ribs. Excitement and a keen anticipation thrummed in my veins. Those grey-blue eyes were the only thing that mattered. They watched me with a steadying certainty. Drinking me in. I felt…seen. Which was silly because a church full of five hundred guests stared at me. The tension ebbed.
I inhaled. The scent of fresh pine and something darker, something that was wholly him, filled me, my first real breath all day. It sent a shiver of relief down my spine.
But a jerk from my father brought it crashing back.
“What are you doing?” Papa demanded.
“Taking my bride to church.” Liam’s brogue was thick and harsh. He pulled my arm free, not unkindly, and tugged me to his side.
“I’m supposed to give her away,” Papa hissed.
“Thanks, but you’re done.” Liam pried me free. His body was angled between us. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but my next breath came easier. “Go. Find your seat.”
He didn’t wait to see if my father obeyed. As we stepped to the raised platform, the comfort faded. The monster’s grip was iron. Unbending. A different flavor of threat that I had to digest.
I flicked a nervous glance, studying his beautiful profile. Carved of stone, it was the face an angel would weep over.
Liam’s jaw flexed. He felt my gaze but didn’t meet it.
The priest began the holy rite, welcoming the guests to St. Vincent’s. “If there is any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Those words sent an electric shock through me. It wasn’t the muffled jabs, whispering behind us like living creatures. Thesource was deep inside my belly, radiating between my legs. The ghost of the surgeon’s touch echoed with the memory of a hurt I fought to conceal.
I’ll run.
This was just a change in location. Nothing more.
But still, the soul-crushing wounds transcended time and space.
