Chapter 30
TOMMY
Silence by nature should be soothing. It is calm and still and quiet. Peaceful.
Yet the silence surrounding Danika and me in the car on the way home is pure agony.
Invisible shards of glass press in all around me.
I want to scream and end the torment, but what would I say?
I don’t regret anything I’ve done. I am exactly the man she thinks I am.
There is nothing for me to explain away or apologize for.
All I can do is absorb the stabbing pain and try not to bleed all over the place by lashing out and making a mess. I think I’ve nearly made it as the elevator doors close around us, but before we can reach the forty-second floor, Danika finally pierces the insufferable veil.
“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Her childlike voice is wrought with sorrow that only stokes my anger.
“Don’t apologize.”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
A huff of condescending laughter rolls past my lips. “Sure, whatever.”
Every goddamn thing that happened in that church revolved around me—I set up the ceremony, I failed to keep our location adequately protected, I killed a man, and I didn’t call off the wedding despite the two corpses bleeding out in the aisle.
Whatever element she found particularly upsetting is irrelevant—it’s all a reflection of me.
The elevator doors open before she can respond.
I hold my hand over the gap to keep the doors from shutting, and Danika leads us to the apartment.
Once inside, I set down my keys and go directly to the kitchen to pour a drink, hoping she’ll take the hint and let me be.
It’s not even noon. I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself for the rest of the day, but I’m not doing it sober if I have to stay here.
I down nearly half the scotch I’ve poured for myself, then turn to see Danika standing in the living room in nothing but her bridal heels.
Her satin gown is a shimmering pool of white at her feet.
I toss back the rest of my drink and set down the glass before slowly stalking closer to my beautiful wife.
The fickle goddess who captured my heart only to rip it to shreds.
I allow my eyes to rove over her porcelain skin mottled with amber freckles as I start a slow circle around her.
“After everything that’s happened, you still think you’re willing to give yourself to me?
” Each word is a blade dragged across her delicate skin.
This is wrong. My head is in the wrong place to let this unfold now, but I’ve been craving this moment for weeks—the moment when she’d finally be mine.
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to,” she insists in a voice that doesn’t waver.
Fuck, I want to believe her, but my brain tells me it’s impossible.
I saw the desolation in her eyes today. Even I’m not that obtuse.
There’s nothing about me a woman like her should want, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.
She’s been forced into every second of this relationship—whether hiding from her father to a coerced marriage with me— she never had a choice in any of it.
No real alternative, and now she’s stuck with me, trying to make the best of it.
Makes me so fucking angry.
A voice in the back of my mind screams at me to walk away, but that primal beast inside me has taken control, and he wants his prize. Death is demanding his favor.
“Get on your knees.”