Chapter 5
KILLIAN
He’s mine. Who the hell is this fucker with her grimy hands all over Log?
I don’t normally come here, but I’ve got ears on the ground, and when I was informed Logan showed, I wanted to see my bride-to-be. Lordes have always been known to be protective of their possessions—and we essentially view people as objects. Comes with the whole psychopath territory.
And I’ve been patient with him long enough.
Before, when he fucked around, it was because he didn’t know whom he belonged to, but now that he does, there’s no excuse for him running around with anyone else. It’s disrespectful, especially when I’ve shown him so much grace, allowed him time to come up with an alternative to our agreement.
That’s absurd, though, and he must’ve realized it by now.
There’s never been a choice for him but to follow through with this marriage.
When I pretended to give him time to consider this, it was for more than my own amusement.
It was so I could revel in the deep satisfaction that he would be squirming as he came to accept he had no choice but to submit to me.
I’ve already won, but now my possession is pissed he’s caught in a trap, and he’s dared to insult me—a fucking Lorde.
I’m livid, and Logan better be glad I’m on a steady diet of antianxiety meds and a mood stabilizer.
The things that allow a volatile man like me to function in the world.
“Boss, you want me to grab him for you?” Jaime asks, still sporting that shiner, courtesy of Logan. Seeing it cheers me up, reminds me of what I like about the guy rather than this searing fury in my chest.
“I need a Xanax and a stiff drink to get in a better mood so I don’t do something I regret.”
We’re standing on the mezzanine level, overlooking the lower part of the warehouse, where Logan’s still chatting with his new friend—my new enemy—his arm around her waist. It’s like he wants to show me I don’t own him.
That he’s his own man and can fuck whoever he wants.
Sooner or later, he’ll come to accept that’s not the case, and if he pushes his luck, he’s gonna learn it tonight.
The fight starts off with some guys I don’t know, but according to Jaime, Logan’s brother is playing tonight, which is probably why Logan came to this rathole.
I’m pretty much dead to this shit, maybe because being a Lorde, we’ve seen so much violence in our lives that this seems like child’s play.
Although, I must admit, as fists exchange, a calm descends over me.
I watch the fight, trying not to be a stalker and give my fiancé the space he needs to make up his mind, but he’s really pushing his luck as he moves closer to the woman, whispering in her ear.
Something within me flares, and I find myself growling like an animal.
Logan couldn’t have heard me, but he glances up, locking gazes as he continues whispering to her. And when she laughs, I can’t keep still.
The insolence.
The disrespect.
Rage funnels through my veins.
As I hurry down to the first floor, I fight to keep my composure.
Old Terror taught me there’s no use flying off the handle.
That it’s much better to manage these impulses, be more measured in my actions.
I remind myself that up until a few days ago, Logan didn’t even know he was supposed to marry me.
He’s still adjusting to the news that he’s not the free man he believed himself to be, who can run around fucking all the women he wants.
But as much sympathy as I may have for him, the Lorde in me won’t be disrespected.
Keep your cool. Don’t lose it. Deep breaths, the way you learned in therapy.
Relief courses through me when I spot him, still chatting up the girl.
Not because I want to see this, but because he didn’t sneak off and wind up balls-deep inside her.
En route to him, I push some guys out of my way.
One’s taller than me and looks about to start something until he recognizes my face. Smart move.
When I reach Logan, I push up beside him and the enemy, catching their attention. I don’t say anything—I doubt I need to. Just stare him down, the heat burning in my cheeks as he issues a cocky smile, clearly knowing what he was doing to me. The bastard.
“Ah, Killian. Surprised to see you here.”
“You shouldn’t be,” I say through my teeth.
The woman glances between us uncomfortably, and I turn to her. “You should join your friends.” It’s a threat, and judging by her wide eyes, she knows it.
“Be nice,” Logan warns.
I snarl. “Please go join your friends.”
Logan’s expression twists up, as though he’s surprised by that, but I don’t have an issue with this woman. I have an issue with his behavior.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere—” Logan insists.
“It’s fine,” she tells him. “Clearly, you have important things to discuss, but you have my Insta. Hit me up.”
“He won’t,” I blurt out.
It’s times like these when I wish I had more self-control. But I must have some since I haven’t attacked her yet. It’s only when she walks away that I realize I’m holding my breath, my fists clenched like I was trying to keep from losing it. It doesn’t ease up as I glare at Logan, who steps to me.
No one steps to me.
“I was working up something there,” he snaps.
“You’re done with that. Now give me your phone.”
“What?” Judging by his expression, you’d’ve thought I backhanded him.
“You heard me. Your phone. I want to block her off your Instagram account.”
He chuckles, like I said something funny, but then sobers. “Wait, are you being serious?”
I scowl, putting my hand out.
“You’re gonna have to take it from me.”
“I’ll take whatever I want from you,” I assure him, earning a nasty look.
“Then take it because you don’t have a right to my phone or who I socialize with.”
“I preferred having you tied up. Is that what you’d like to happen again?”
Logan gets even closer, until I can feel his breath. “You’re gonna have to do that again if you want me to do anything you want.”
I’m intrigued. “That sounds like a request.”
He flinches. “No, I don’t want that. I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
I’m stewing in my rage. “For someone who wants his family to be protected, you sure are playing with fire.”
“If we plan to make this work, and I do mean if, then I’m not gonna live my life doing whatever you want, so maybe you should just get used to it.”
As obstinate as he’s being, his comment sets me at ease. Because he’s already saying it, suggesting he’ll honor the arrangement.
“I’m fine with you having freedom, but you won’t cheat on me.”
“What am I supposed to do for sex while we’re together? You know I’ll need pussy. Surely, you’re not expecting…” He trails off, mouth hanging open as he takes in the seriousness in my expression.
“I told you you’d have to consummate the relationship.”
“Yeah, but after that…”
“After, you’re mine,” I say, and can’t help myself, this part of me that knows he’s mine. I seize his wrist. He tries to pull away, but I resist him, needing to remind him who’s in charge.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re out of your damn mind?” he asks.
“Everyone tells me that.”
He yanks again, earning his freedom.
I consider how easy it would be to knife him right now, then hate myself for the thought because I’m talking about my future wife here. But he knows how to push my buttons, ignite this rage that burns in my soul—that’s always been there and only gets worse as the years pass by.
As if the last few minutes didn’t happen, Logan says, “I’m gonna go find Alana and see if maybe I can save this.”
He spins around and takes a step before my words chase after him: “Not the best thing for her, is it?” I’m impressed by how smoothly that comes out, and it effectively stops him in his tracks.
He turns back to me. “What did you just say to me, you goddamn psychopath?”
He’s furious, and so fucking right. I’m glad I’ve got him so worked up since now he knows how I feel.
“You heard.”
“What does she have to do with this?”
“She’s the one trying to seduce you right now.”
“I’m not yours, so I don’t see what the issue is.”
I grit my teeth, tightening my fists even more, thinking if I tense up much further, I might give myself an aneurysm.
“Is that what you’ve decided, then? To sever the agreement?
Because say the word and it’s done, and you can go fuck any of the women who came here tonight.
If not, though, you are mine. Or does your word mean nothing to you? ”
His nostrils flare. I’ve struck a nerve, since we both know our words are all we have in our business. His offense assures me he’s the sort of man I figured, a man worthy of being my prize.
“Because if you decide to fuck her,” I go on, “well, this wouldn’t be the first time someone who’s touched my things ended up at the bottom of a river.”
His eyes widen, then narrow, as though he’s trying to work out how serious I’m being.
But I’m always serious.
“If you’re gonna punish someone for my actions, it should be me.”
“It would be punishing you. It’s all about you. You’re then responsible for an innocent woman never getting to enjoy life because of your selfish need to get your rocks off.”
“I have to get those rocks off somehow.”
“And you know how that will happen.”
I didn’t think his eyes could get any wider, but I was wrong.
“You’re even more psychotic than I thought.”
“And I look forward to showing you just how psychotic.”
The host interrupts us. “What a mess!” he says gleefully, drawing our attention to the cage, where one of the guys is being led out, coated in blood. Looks like I missed the best parts while distracted by my fiancé.
“Now for our next round, we have a newbie against Wrath Wilde.”
“Newbie?” Logan asks, his attention on the cage, and I can see the uneasiness in his expression.
It’s a look I’m all too familiar with. He’s concerned about his brother. It’s the very reason why I know, whether he wants to or not, he won’t back out of the arrangement. Why he will be my bride.