CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ava
“G et back to the house ,” Griffin hollers at my guard. “She’s coming with me.”
“Don’t yell at Bourne,” I mutter.
“I pay him, I’ll yell at him. I’ll beat him to a pulp if he fucks up, and I’ll even kill him.”
“Now you sound like my psycho brother Ares.”
“He’s starting to grow on me.” Griffin pushes me against the car. “You, on the other hand...”
“Yeah?”
He shoves his sweatshirt at me. “Put this on.”
“Aw, you’re jealous.”
“Get in the car.” He leans forward. “You don’t want strangers hearing what I have to say to you.”
“Yikes.” With the car door open, I climb into the backseat of the Escalade. “I like my Lexus better.”
“Deal with it.” Griffin slams the rear passenger door closed.
I shudder, thinking it’s lust bubbling in his veins making him all edgy and irate.
“Can you just tell me what I did to annoy you?” I hold the sweatshirt against my chest.
He barks a laugh and slaps his grass-stained knee. “I only wish I had a damn whiteboard to write them all out with big letters. First, you left the house without me.”
“You’re kidding? I’ve been in and out on my own for weeks.”
He grips the back of my neck. “When we go to an event, we go there together , and we sure as shit come home together.”
“Events? This was a soccer game, and I went to get us snacks ,” I argue, even though I left to do exactly what he’s accusing me of.
Irritating him, when I know he would have liked to fool around more. So did I. But I can’t get close to him. He’s giving me a gift of freedom. After we get married, I have to figure out how to get a new solid fake ID. One that will prevent both Shane with his cyber skills and Atlas with his tracking methods from finding me.
“Next, you wore this getup to annoy me. I pay attention. I see what you wear around the house. You stroll around in my oversized T-shirts, leggings, and ugly sneakers. You go out of your way to look plain and not sexy around me . Then you get a call from your cousins and you dress to the nines with clothes I bought. Now an afternoon with my brothers comes up, and you wear something so they can see your pussy and watch your tits bounce.”
I bite my lip. He’s got me there. I can’t let it go, though. “I was in a cage.”
“Do you want me to treat you like a victim?” He squeezes my knee.
“No!” I suck in a breath, unsure if I’m having a panic attack.
So much is catching up to me. I consider asking Bourne when I get home to bring me to my aunt’s apartment. I have the right to spend one night with my relatives. At this rate, Griffin is going to keep me tied up until the wedding. I should give him time to cool off.
“Ava, this wedding is happening. Deal with it. We’re getting married, and you need to act like a proper wife for six damn months.”
“I’m telling my aunt to call off the big wedding,” I say softly. “Let’s just do something quiet.”
He turns to me with a cold stare. “Something quiet, huh?”
I shiver at how he’s seething. “Yeah.”
He leans forward. “Gus, take us to City Hall. Right fucking now.”
“Really?” I wanted City Hall in the first place! “Let’s go home and change. I’ll—”
“No,” Griffin sharply bites out. “You wanted to wear that outfit, now you get married in it.”
“What?” I claw at his arms. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m fucking deadly serious.” He gets on his phone. “Shane, it’s me. I’m going to City Hall right now to get married. Is there a license on file?”
“No. Don’t do this.” I try to grab Griffin’s phone and even yell, “Shane, he’s kidding. We’re having a good laugh. Ha, ha!”
“No, this has nothing to do with what just happened.” Griffin pushes me away. “Shane, do it, or I go there with my gun and... That’s better.”
“Boss, it’s a Saturday,” Zeke says cautiously from the front seat.
Griffin radiates fury and the car goes quiet, only our ragged breaths punctuating the silence. And if I’m not mistaken, I can hear my heart pounding.
Griffin’s phone rings again, making me jump. He picks it up, and I worry when Shane tells him they’re closed, Griffin will explode and the SUV will roll over from the shockwaves.
“What?” he answers and a second later, his right eyebrow lifts. “Is that so?”
My life passes before my eyes, thinking of the hell I’ll get.
“Thank you, Shane.” Watching me, Griffin twists his phone in his hand. “They’re open until noon on Saturdays in June to accommodate summer weddings.”
My heart drops, seeing it’s eleven forty-seven. “Oh shit.”
I grab a hold of the handle over the window, and it happens in slow motion.
Griffin takes out his gun, and screams to Gus, “Get me to City Hall in ten minutes or you die.”
The Escalade weaves in and out of traffic and by some damn miracle, we arrive at City Hall in four minutes.
Griffin pulls on a nylon track jacket and shoves his gun into the inner pocket. “Zeke, out of the car. Get to the officiant’s office and make sure it stays open .”
The guard flies from the car, not even closing the passenger door.
Griffin hops out and closes it. Facing me in the backseat, he growls, “Come on, my lovely bride.”
I give us a once-over. We’re both sweaty, wearing shorts with grass stains, and my T-shirt now has Shane’s blood on it. I’m pretty sure I smell bad. I shake my head, watching the time tick down. I know I can force the delay, although I’ll be right back here on Monday. For all I know Griffin will tie me up all weekend and then bring me back wearing a bathrobe or something worse, like a bathing suit.
But maybe I can escape.
“No,” I say firmly.
Griffin leans into the car. “I have been patient with you, Ava. I’ve tried to make this as easy as possible while keeping you safe, but all you do is question me and play games.” He yanks me toward him with such force that my ass slides out of the seat. Next, I’m wobbling to stay steady on the curb. “When I tell you to do something you will listen to me. Now get into that building.”
“Griffin, stop. We can’t do this.” I kick him. “I changed my mind. We’ll do the big wedding.”
“And it will be a great party. But deep inside you’ll know you got married like this, looking...well. Looking like shit.”
“That’s cruel!” I pressed a button I didn’t know would fucking launch a nuclear war.
“Cruel?” He drags me out of the car and flips me around to walk ahead of him, the gun in my back. “I bought you a beautiful dress but you hate it. Now you get married like this. This is the memory that will be stuck in your head.”
“No, it won’t!” My heart pounds at the psycho mindfuck he just laid on me. And I’m kind of pissed because it’s a brilliant punishment I know I deserve.
“Wanna bet? You act all tough, but deep inside you’re all woman.” His raspy voice speaks to how unhinged he is. “This is going to piss you off. Forever. What did you say to me the day I found you in bloody rags: I would never want to get married like this. ”
“You...” I bite my lip, hating him.
Zeke waves from the entrance. I have no doubt Griffin has the power to keep this marriage license office open. Either way, I’m leaving here married.
Passing women in pretty white sundresses, holding bouquets, their hair in beautiful twists or curls cascading down their back, what I did is hitting me.
We get inside, and Zeke is there. “Judge Carey is waiting for you, boss.”
“Thank you, Zeke.”
I eye courthouse guards with guns and know all I have to do is cry out. Say I’m being coerced. Griffin catches my eyes lingering that way. He pulls me closer and next, I feel something hard and steel in my ass crack.
“Is that...”
“Smith and Wesson, baby. Not Quinlan issued.”
I nearly snort a laugh that he can make a joke when we’re seething at each other. “That hurts.”
“My cock will hurt more when I take you there.”
“Just what a girl wants to hear on her wedding day.”
“Keep walking, siren,” Griffin says with his warm breath in my ear.
A carved wooden door gets larger every second. Next, we’re in a room, and a man in a black robe is reading marriage vows. Griffin is holding me by the waist, the nuzzle of his gun rimming my backside.
At the part where we say I do, I want to throw up.
“I do,” Griffin says and digs the gun harder.
“I...” I don’t, I don’t, I don’t. “I do.”
We’re pronounced husband and wife. Then the judge excuses himself, saying he has a wedding to get to in East Hampton.
We’re alone, and Griffin puts his gun away. “Kiss me, wife.”
“Fuck you,” I mumble so the clerk can’t hear us. “The next time I have your dick in my mouth I’ll bite it off.”
“What language for a Navy lieutenant.” He grips my face trying to kiss me.
“Good luck, you two,” the clerk startles us. “Judge Carey signed the marriage license.” She leaves it on the bench and hikes away.
Smart woman...
“I don’t care what the hell just happened.” I punch him in the face, my hand aching. “We’re not married.”
Griffin just laughs and grabs the license the clerk left. “We are. Sign it.”
“No!”
“I will hold you down.” He takes the pen and signs it.
“Forgery!” I yell.
“I’m signing my name.” He holds the pen toward me. “Now you sign it.”
I’m tempted to take it and stab him with it. In the end, I just say, “No,” and fold my arms.
“Sign it or I won’t let you go. At all. You’ll be trapped with me forever.”
“Go to hell.” I will away the tears building in my stinging eyes.
“If I do, I’m sure I’ll see you there.” He grabs my wrist and signs my name squeezing my hand. “Now kiss me, wife. ”
“I hate you.” I sniff.
Griffin goes still, his eyes following a tear that leaks from my right eye. I thought he’d scream in delight that he got to me.
No, his voice gets low.
“Your tears are no victory to me. I’m the one bleeding inside over you. My heart can’t take much more of this.” He grabs me. “Now fucking kiss me.”
Our lips smash together and it’s a brutal, feral kiss. His tongue explores my mouth, fighting for mine. For me to submit.
“No, stop!” I break down, and it’s Zeke who steers me gently away.
“Boss, we’re in public.”
Without saying anything, Griffin storms past us and hikes out onto the street.
I have no choice but to follow. Outside, I look up at the angry swirl of gray clouds. “I hear ya.”
We drive back to the townhouse in absolute silence. I’m married and my husband hates me. I hate him, too.
I sniff, shaking that away. Okay, I don’t hate him. And I hope he doesn’t hate me.
In front of the townhouse, Griffin pushes out of the car, then turns to hold his hand out to me, expecting me to walk next to him like we’ve done dozens of times since I moved in with him.
To fool people that this farce of a relationship is real. For appearances, I let him hold my hand. But inside the house, I break from his grasp.
“I can’t even look at you.” I jog into the living room and push open the glass door to the backyard.
Outside, fat raindrops soak through every inch of my clothes. This stupid getup, as Griffin called it, caused this horrible mess. Caused me to get married in a fucking T-shirt and shorts with a damn gun digging into my ass crack.
“Help!” I scream, hoping neighbors hear me and send the cops.
Shit, that’s not a good idea. Griffin will take it out on my brothers, who honestly, I’m more afraid of.
The rain lashes sideways, the wind picking up. Chairs tumble over. I should be scared considering the dangerous microbursts that have been moving through this area, but I’m mad .
Walking across the lawn, my stomping kicks up the mud from the saturated lawn. My sneakers are now soaked, too, and my shirt is a transparent mess. I focus on the twelve-foot-high brick walls. One with branches from the neighbor’s tree is hanging down into our yard. Thinking I’m back in training, I stand as far away as I can and run to the wall to scale it. It takes a few tries, but I get a hold of a branch.
Only, it snaps, and I fall to the ground. I don’t hurt myself, but now I’m covered in mud, even my hair.
That’s when the damn bursts and I start to really cry, feeling sorry for myself.