CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ava
W here the hell am I ? My head is pounding from being drugged. Christ, I’m in a trunk. Tied up.
“Let me out!” I yell for the umpteenth time.
At least I’m not gagged. But I stop screaming when the car starts moving. It stops. Then moves again. All while something is behind me. Something rapidly losing warmth. Crap, it’s Brandon’s body.
His dead body because I killed him.
I lean on my bicep, cursing myself. It’s my fault that I’m in here. I didn’t behave properly with the guy who rescued me. And according to him, my brothers expect me to marry the guy.
So, I tried to kill him. I don’t know how to not fight. Five months with Keller gave me a tiny bit of hope I could get away from him and then disappear. Let my brothers think he killed me.
Alexander promised me I’d be part of his assassination plans. Assassinating the Irish. But Ares forged a truce with them and is forcing me to marry one of them.
Of all the people, Ares set me up with... My hot and dirty one-night stand.
The car stops once again, but this time the trunk cap pops open.
Griffin stands there, rumpled auburn hair falling rakishly in front of his deep blue eyes. Christ, he’s more gorgeous now. Even glaring hateful thoughts at me.
It...turns me on.
And I’ve been covered in blood for hours. That’s how potent Griffin is.
Which is why I hate him.
“Are we calm now?” he asks, still dressed in a sexy suit that looks molded to his thick, muscular body.
“What is that?” I shiver, pointing to the glossy white bag in his hand, recognizing the high-end store.
“Clothes.”
I try to look over his shoulder and take in my surroundings like I’m back in the field and on a mission. “Where are we?”
“What is that? Where are we? Any more questions?” He leans into the trunk to get close to me.
“I have thousands of questions.”
“We’re in a parking garage a few blocks from your brother’s apartment building.” He straightens his suit jacket. “If I lift you out of that trunk, are you going to punch or scratch me?”
“My hands are tied.”
“I watched you for weeks during that training. I know what you can do.” He dangles the bag. “Here are nice clean clothes for you to wear. Be a good girl, and you won’t be next to that dead body anymore. You’ll sleep under your brother’s roof tonight. Or anywhere he wants to keep you. Until our wedding.”
My brain fuzzes. “Today’s not our wedding day?”
“Do you want to get married in a T-shirt with Keller’s blood under your fingernails?” He puts the bag down and takes out his phone. “I can find someone to do it.”
“No! I would never want to get married looking like this.” I try to touch my hair. “I’m confused.”
“About what?”
“You don’t want to marry me either, do you?”
“No.”
I snort. “Tell me how you really feel, sheesh.”
He reaches into the trunk and slowly closes one hand around my throat. “But I’m going to marry you and enjoy you being my wife so I can punish you for what you did to me seven years ago.”
I glance at him, remembering the sicario tattoo. “When I figured out you were a hitman, I worried you were sent to kill me.”
He snaps his hand away from my neck and folds his arms across an impressive chest. “That’s your story? That’s why you tied me up and left me there?”
“And I’m sticking to it.” I snap my fingers, trying to be playful, wondering if that’s an angle to get over on this guy.
“You were there the night of the heated council meeting where Brandon made a scene, weren’t you?” Griffin asks. “I heard who else was put forth to Troi. You saw who you could have been forcibly married to.” He smooths a hand down his stomach and tucks a finger into the top of his trousers. “Don’t you think you’re getting the best option possible?”
Fuck, he’s got me there, but I have to keep up the fight.
“I’d like to get dressed. Brush my teeth. And go home.” I roll onto my back and cringe feeling dead Brandon again. “Then we can talk...about getting married.”
Griffin smiles. “Good girl.”