Chapter 3
LOGAN
The next morning, I’m groggy as I come to.
Was last night a nightmare? No way did Killian Lorde send his guys to take me from the hot girl I was fucking, drag me to Rothguard, and threaten to hold me to a bullshit contract that has absolutely no legal foundation whatsoever.
Yet, as my memory becomes clearer—those vivid sensations of him grabbing my balls, my shaft, tasting my lips—I know better.
I knew Killian was bi, but I never had the impression he had his sights set on me.
I don’t even know that he’s really attracted to me as much as wanting to be the one to own a Wilde.
Why did Dad ask me to sign that bullshit document to begin with?
Of course, I know the answer. This agreement has protected us, and that’s something I must consider, no matter how much I can’t stand the thought of being Killian Lorde’s husband…or I guess, as he puts it, his wife.
What the hell am I even thinking? This is bullshit. This won’t happen. I just need to talk to my brothers and sort out this mess.
I struggle to my feet, my body aching with injuries, a lightheaded sensation pulses through me, and I vaguely recall his guys returning with a sedative to knock me out, surely for their own safety.
As I head into the en suite, I wonder how much of my grogginess is from the tequila and how much from that sedative.
I check myself in the mirror, inspect the bruising, particularly the one on my hip, where Killian caressed…
stroking the tender flesh…my dick perking up…
He didn’t seem to give a fuck whether I wanted him touching me like that, and yet, as he pointed out, I didn’t tell him not to.
Maybe I just figured it was useless when he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to my body anyway.
Yes, that must be it. What was the sense in fighting?
Although, given how much I resisted him about everything else, it’s hard to use that as a justification.
I shake that off and hop in the shower, rinsing off the sweat from the fuck I was in the middle of and from the fight with his fucking cronies. Jaime and Krychek. I’ll have to remember their names and make them pay for how they treated me.
I’ll also have to find a way to get Killian back because no one treats a Wilde like he did.
If only our situation wasn’t complicated enough already.
After my shower and brushing my teeth, I throw a towel around my waist and hurry to find Masters and Wrath. I’m hungry as hell, so on my way, I stop by the kitchen and grab a sub from the fridge.
I discover them in the pool with a crew of guys and girls, playing volleyball, totally oblivious to my absence last night.
“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting the morning after being abducted,” I say.
Wrath laughs. “Abducted? Oh yeah, Killian reached out to let us know he had a surprise birthday present for you. And we worked something out with Lowes and Hayes. Holy shit. Where’d you get those shiners? Wait. Killian didn’t do that to you, did he?”
“No, it was the girl. What the hell do you think?”
“Just a minute, guys,” Masters says, squeezing one of the guys’ asses, then swimming over to us.
“We need to talk,” I say through my teeth, and they glance at one another, knowing this is serious by my tone. It’s something I either inherited from our father or developed a decent imitation of because it’s very effective.
The guys get out of the pool and grab their towels, wiping down.
Masters tells Baxter, “Keep our guests happy. Give them whatever drinks they want.”
“Clearly, you both had a better night than I did,” I say.
“Is this about the present Killian gave you?” Wrath asks, and I glare at him.
“He abducted me.”
“For, like, a birthday surprise,” Wrath says. “How many times have we done that with each other? It was your twenty-seventh. I figured he’d give you a Lamborghini.”
“Definitely didn’t get a car. Just these bruises and psychological trauma.”
Wrath assesses my injuries. “This isn’t making any sense. They’re our allies.”
“You don’t know the half of things not making any sense.”
“And you talking cryptically doesn’t help anything.”
Jesus, I’m starting to sound as evasive as Killian was with me last night, but for a different reason, because it’s not the kind of thing I’m eager to share with my brothers.
I lead them into Dad’s office, and Wrath removes his towel, so he’s just in his Speedo. He tosses it onto the love seat adjacent to the desk while Masters beelines for the liquor cabinet.
“Anyone else want a martini?” Masters asks. “I can make my Cutthroat specialty.”
I’m annoyed that alcohol’s what’s on his mind when I have something so serious to discuss, but I also could use a little something to take the edge off. “Sure.”
“Of course,” Wrath says, and Masters gets to work. Of the four of my siblings, he’s the best at mixing drinks.
Wrath waits for me to be out with the news, and I should just tell them, but now that I’m sobering up, it’s hard to imagine getting any of this out with a straight face.
“What is it, man?” Wrath asks.
“Killian had something he wanted to talk to me about. He—”
Masters shakes up the martini—convenient timing, as ever—earning glares from Wrath and me. He continues shaking, ignoring the attitude like we’re not annoyed as fuck, then starts pouring into three glasses on the bar.
I wait for him to distribute the drinks before I tell them about my abduction and being tied and blindfolded, fearing for my fucking life.
As I get into it, I’m even more worked up that it was how he chose to tell me the news when there were plenty other ways without having me think last night was my last. I get to the part where Killian told me about the arrangement, but stop myself.
“What did he want?” Wrath presses.
“He wants… It’s gonna sound so ridiculous, so just listen. He wants me to marry him.”
Wrath and Masters shoot each other a look—the sort I never liked growing up because they have a way of communicating without needing to talk, which is great for them but terrible when you’re their brother and want to know what’s on their minds.
Finally they break, bursting into boisterous laughs, the room echoing with their amusement. They’re clearly not buying it.
“I’m being totally serious right now.”
“Yeah,” Wrath says. “Well, it sounds like Killian isn’t. He’s fucking with you, man.”
Now that I’m done talking, I sip my martini, but then down the rest because these guys are stressing me the hell out.
Wrath sips on his, leaning his ass against Dad’s desk, something he never could have done while the old man was alive.
And on top of his dismissive comment, it’s pissing me the hell off.
“Wrath, I spent the night strung up with a psychopath who felt me up and told me that if I want our family to continue receiving protection from the Lordes, I’ll have to get married, and if that happens, you’re my fucking bridesmaid. ”
“Okay, I’d be a groomsman, but—”
“Not in Killian’s fucked-up mind!” I shout, and Wrath’s eyes widen, a grin stretching across his face, the way he used to get when we were younger and he could tell he was getting on my nerves. As I check Masters’s smirk, it’s apparent he’s enjoying this just as much.
I know it won’t make any sense without telling them about the contract Dad had me sign before he passed, and as I explain, their expressions sober up.
Just like my own skepticism, it seems they realize there might be some truth to it after all.
I must say I preferred it when they thought I was out of my goddamn mind.
“Still think it’s a big fucking joke?”
“Huh, that’s how Dad kept the Lordes looking after us for all these years,” Masters says.
“But it’s just a formality, right?” Wrath follows. “You sign some paperwork, and then it’s done.”
“Killian was very clear that he wants me to be his actual wife, and that’s the last thing in the world I need right now.”
“And you’re gonna do it, right?” Masters asks. “I mean, we can’t be enemies with the Lordes, and we won’t survive Fury without them.”
“I’m not planning on being enemies with them. I just need to find a way out of this damned agreement.”
“Fuck me,” Wrath says. “Killian willing to take a different Wilde as a husband?” He says that in a charming way, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, but as I issue a pointed look, he backs down. “Okay, bro. Sorry. Let’s calm down. Obviously, he’s not planning to have a wedding tonight, right?”
When I don’t respond right away, Masters says, “Right?”
“No, no.”
“Okay, so we need to talk to legal,” Masters says. “See if anyone has an idea what to do about this. Maybe, if we can’t make it mutually beneficial, there’s a way out of this agreement.”
If he’d seen the way Killian was acting with me, how much he was enjoying having power over me, he’d know that’s unlikely.
Masters must read the skepticism in my expression because he says, “Let’s not panic until we’ve put our heads together.
And if it turns out you do have to marry the bastard, then that’s the way it goes, right?
” He pats my back. “I’ll reach out to the lawyers.
They’ll have a copy of any agreement. We’ll see if he can find a loophole to get out of this bullshit deal Dad made as a last-ditch attempt to keep us safe.
Really, I’m sure he’s fucking with you.”
“He’s right,” Wrath adds. “Dad and Old Terror were good friends, and that’s why he wanted to keep us safe.”
“Whatever their reason, Killian Lorde is determined to marry me,” I say without a trace of humor.
Masters and Wrath exchange a look, as if seriously considering the implications for the first time.
Wrath forces a smile. “Let’s get you some breakfast. Plenty to do today without worrying senselessly about something that’s probably never gonna happen anyway, right?”
Although, I wish he’d sounded more confident…