Chapter 55
B eside me, Ever pushes all her fingertips together until her fingers shake.
I grab one of her hands. “Are you ready?”
“No.”
“You don’t have to go in there. I can do it by myself if you want.”
“And miss the look on his face when he hears the wonderful news?”
That’s my petty girl.
After getting the passenger door for her, we pass the motorcycle statues, and go up the front steps together, hand in hand.
“Welcome back, Miss Munreaux,” Edwin greets her, ignoring me altogether. I am breaking the law being here, but it’s still rude as fuck.
“It’s Mrs. Brantley now,” she corrects him before I can. It sounds so much better when she says it.
“My apologies, Mrs. Brantley.”
Edwin ushers us into Arthur’s office, where a new door’s already replaced the one I broke.
“The Brantleys, sir,” he announces to his boss more apologetically than when he offered Ever his apologies.
The face on Arthur though? Priceless.
I can sense Ever’s evil grin without needing to see it.
Now that Ever’s married to me, Arthur can’t sell her off as anyone else’s bride. If he really believes what he told her, that a strategic marriage is all she’s good for, then according to him, she’s no longer of use to him. I rid her of the Munreaux name and burden all at once.
“The Brantleys? Never, what the fu—”
“Ever,” I tell Arthur. “Her name is Ever.”
“I know her name. She’s my daughter.”
“She’s my wife ,” I snarl even though I swore I wouldn’t lose my patience. But this is the first time seeing him since Ever and I ran out of her arranged wedding and it’s harder than I thought not to jump across his desk and strangle him with his own tie. He was going to sell off the love of my life. “You will use her real name or you will not speak to her at all.”
With a scathing look at me, he grits, “ Ever ,” before swinging his gaze to my wife. “What the—”
I bring out the anchor from behind my back and drop it on his desk. “Do you know what that is?” I give a one-second pause for dramatic effect, then continue without his input. “It’s a six-pound, stainless steel fluke anchor.”
An anchor guide I found online suggested counting one pound of anchor for every foot of boat length, but I was being generous rounding up to six pounds despite Arthur not being six feet tall. I figured it was better to err on the side of caution here.
“If you touch my wife again… If you go near my wife again… If you so much as fucking talk to my wife again, I will tie this to your ankles and drop you in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic.”
“You just said as long as I use her name, I can talk to her.” He points at Ever, and I take a strategic step in front of her. That finger has caused her so much pain.
But it never will again.
“I lied. I just wanted Ever to hear you say her name correctly for once.”
He studies me, her, then the anchor.
“Six pounds won’t drown me.”
“No, the ocean will do that just like it did to your wife. The anchor’s just to keep your body from floating back up once it does because we never want to see your ugly ass again.”
My wife and I turn to leave.
“Aren’t you going to take this with you?”
“You keep it,” I tell him without looking back. I may not be fuck-you rich like Arthur Munreaux but I do still have most of that million dollars and that’s more than enough to buy another anchor. “Let it serve as a reminder.”
“She’s out of the will!” he calls after us like we care. Even if my account didn’t currently have lots of zeroes in it, we wouldn’t care. Nothing in our future requires the Munreaux fortune. It’ll help, for sure, but we’d be happy without it, too.
I keep a hand at the small of Ever’s back, pushing her forward. We need to get out of here before her father says something to make me snap and send him to that deep-sea grave right now.
Just as we make it to that new door though, Ever stops.
“And, Arthur?” She spins around to face him. “That goes for my future kids, too. Don’t even think about contacting any of my children.”
“I’m your father. And someday I’ll be their grand—”
“No. You were never a father. You were just a plague I survived. Your rot will never touch my children. If I have to rid this planet of you myself to ensure it doesn’t, I will. I already lost one biological parent off the back of the Burning Rudder , I won’t hesitate to lose another the same way. And trust me, there will be no question as to whether it was accidental or not.”
For once, Ever’s rendered her father speechless. He says nothing. He does nothing. If I believed he had a heart, I’d think his daughter just broke it.
Since I know that’s not true, I assume the motherfucker’s just plotting.
He can plot. We got lives to start.
I wait until we’re back in the car to voice my thoughts. “So…you do want kids?”
We’ve been a little busy these past couple days getting married and consummating that marriage. Lots of consummating. We wanted to be sure there was no chance for an annulment. If Arthur’s willing to arrange a marriage for his daughter, he’s archaic enough to challenge one.
Ever puts on her seat belt. “And a dog.”
“Okay…” I gotta be honest, I did not see that coming. “No feeding the dog treats in bed though.”
“That was just to lure Zeus into bed with you.”
“Why’d you want Zeus in bed with me?”
“So you had someone to snuggle in my place.”
My head starts shaking on its own accord. “I didn’t snuggle…Zeus…” Wait. “…thinking it was…” Did I? “…you.”
Ever cups her mouth, trying and pretty much failing to hold in a laugh.
I didn’t notice she was gone until morning. And I almost always have at least one arm around her when we’re sleeping.
Shit.
“It has to be a small dog,” I declare, making her lose it entirely.
“Whatever you say, Major.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
My wife’s smile confirms I’m right.
Shit.
Here’s to a lifetime of folding. And being ridiculously, sickeningly, pathetically happy about it.