Page 55 of Married to the Devil

“Is that true, Mommy?”

Tears fill my eyes. My throat closes.

God, why am I so stupid?

“Yes, sweetie, it must be true. Sorry, Mommy made a mistake.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I didn’t want to go. Can I get in bed now?”

“Go ahead, baby.” I kiss her and walk her back to tuck her in. “I love you so much.”

“You too, Mommy.” She snuggles in and cuddles with a pile of new stuffies.

Rafe’s still waiting in the hall. I pull Hattie’s door closed with a click and he studies me. A tingling fear rolls down my spine and I realize he’s angry.

“How did you think this would go?” he asks, voice soft in the darkness. “Explain to me what you were thinking.”

“I’m a prisoner, Rafe. Did you really expect me to roll over and let you own me?”

“No, not that. How did you think you’d get out with her?” His jaw sets, eyes sharpening.

“You’re not angry I tried to escape?”

“Not at all. I expected you to try sooner. But what I want to know is why the fuck did you think you could drag my five-year-old daughter through the pine barrens in the middle of the night?”

I make an involuntary grunt. I feel like someone punched me in the guts. “There’s the driveway⁠—“

“It’s five miles long.”

My mouth hangs open. “What? Seriously?”

“Yes, June, it’s five miles long, and everything around is rough terrain. You’d hike for hours in the pitch black, your daughter cold and afraid beside you, only to find the dirt fucking road that twists and turns for another five miles to the nearest paved access street.”

“The grocery driver… he said it’s twenty minutes…”

“Twenty minutes to the fucking street in a god damn van.”

My heart sinks in horror at the realization of what I almost did.

I collapse against the wall, chest aching. “I didn’t know…”

“You were going to scar our daughter, and for what? Only for me to catch you?”

I look at him. Rafe’s eyes shine with fury, but there’s something else.

He was worried about Hattie. And maybe he was worried about me. He looks almost…

Afraid.

“I’m a prisoner here. My daughter’s a prisoner too. Our cage is beautiful and comfortable, but it’s still a cage. I was going to do what you forced me to do.”

“You are wrong.” He steps forward, jaw gritted, and grabs my right wrist. He lifts it above my head. I gasp in shock, arching into him. “I’m saving your life and you have no idea.”

“How? Tell me how? And don’t give me some vague bullshit about enemies.”

“You saw your friend. You watched what my brother did to bring you to our wedding.”

My heart leaps as I press my free palm into his chest. I keep it there, pushing lightly, but not doing much, only feeling his heart beating as fast as mine.