Chapter 42 #2
There is a third option . . . Presently, we’re headed down a path that leads to me revealing whether she owns the shop. If I can throw her off the trail with a red herring, then at least I can dodge the whole proxy marriage thing.
I’ve got to distract her with a new reason to hate me.
“Odin wasn’t a stray. I adopted him from a shelter,” I blurt. Her nostrils flare, and she backs away from me.
“I made him look like he was a stray because you’re a sucker for that. Plus, that whole thing in your dad’s letter, he set me up for that, I had to take advantage.”
Her gaze darts to Odin. “What else?” she says, voice flat as she peers at our dog.
Sabotaged your last relationship . . . read some of your dad’s letters to manipulate your feelings . . . married you. Minor infractions.
Kelly must pick up on my silence, so she slowly brings her attention back to me and narrows her eyes. “I am the owner of Black Rabbit, right? The way Dad wanted it to be?”
Well, fuck, so much for that strategy!
Careful . . . “We both own it,” I reply.
She cocks her head to the side, crossing her arms again. “You’re lying to me.”
I shake my head. Technically, it’s marital property, and in Minnesota, that means she gets half.
She throws up her hands and raises her voice. “Well, am I tits deep in back taxes, then? Why hasn’t the government come around and asked me for money? Show me the paperwork that shows we own it.”
She stalks toward me, and I back up.
Hard pass. “No.”
Her raised chin tells me she’s squaring up for a fight. “Why not?” she demands.
I rub the back of my neck. She’s got me backed into a corner. “I can’t tell you that.”
She gives an exaggerated blink. “What?” Her tone is sharp.
My hands are tied on this one. I can’t tell her everything, or I’ll lose her.
Our marriage is something that was going to happen eventually, and it allowed me to make sure she would get the business should anything happen to me.
It killed two birds with one stone . . .
It also ensured that if she ever tried to divorce me, I would still keep half of Black Rabbit.
The tattoo shop tied us for life. She’s too sentimental to walk away from her dad’s shop—and so am I.
She buries her face in her hands. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
I unclench my jaw and try to have a little perspective. She’s dealing with information overload and just needs time to process everything. Her eyes glimmer as tears swell to the brim.
“This.” Her body slackens, arms falling at her sides as if they’re too heavy to hold up for even one more second. “You. Us. Installing sensors. Odin. Keeping secrets. All of it.”
I step forward, my voice rising. “Stop. We’re not doing that.”
“I need space. A break. Not saying forever, but for now.” My ears ring as the silence around us seems to pulse at the finality of her words.
A break? A fucking break?
The suffocation starts in my chest, spreading from my lungs and tightening every organ in its path. By the time it hits my mind, my thoughts can’t even breathe.
She’s giving up.
My spiraling thoughts eat away at the silence, filling it with raw noise as I search every possibility, every cause-and-effect outcome that will get her to stay. As my vision tunnels, there’s a flicker of hope, like a shot in the dark.
It’s almost too simple. I’m fucked anyway, might as well have a little pre-party for the apocalypse. My mouth tips up in a smile. I inhale deep and blow the air out smoothly, steadying my breaths as my heart rate slows.
Just because she wants a break doesn’t mean I have to give it to her. I won’t let her.
She doesn’t get to give up on us. I didn’t wait years to make her mine and risk it all just so she could throw in the towel when shit gets hard.
Not a chance in hell. If Kelly wants a fight, then I’ll give her one, but she better strap the fuck in because tonight won’t be ending with one of us walking away.
I cross my arms and smirk. “No.”
She cocks her head to the side. “That’s not up to you,” she fires back.
“Actually, it is,” I say. “We’re not done yet.”
She sidesteps while keeping her wary eyes on me.
“No, no, no,” I say, peering down at my feet. I chuckle and shake my head before meeting her gaze again. “Don’t look at me like I’m some stranger you don’t recognize.”
“Honestly, Logan—” She swallows, backing up as I encroach on her space. “The man I know doesn’t keep secrets. I don’t know who you are right now.”
The only thing keeping those words from gutting me is the knowledge that she doesn’t mean them. If we’re ripping off bandages, then let’s do it. I’ll go first.
“Yes you do.” I take a few steps toward her. “I’m your fucking husband.”
She sighs, rubbing her forehead with a palm as if exasperated by nonsense. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s called a proxy marriage,” I explain. “It’s legal in Montana.”
She quirks her head and raises her left brow, burying me six feet deep with a single look. “Logan, what are you talking about?” Her voice is calm and crisp.
“Remember the paperwork I had to submit in Bozeman?”
I see the moment her world tilts. Her lips part and she blinks at me. “Wait . . .”
My stomach growls; we should order a pizza. I have a feeling this is going to take a while.
She glares at me before words explode out of her. “We haven’t even talked about marriage!”
Odin runs into the room and glances at me, so I keep my voice calm.
“And now we don’t need to,” I say. “I’ve already taken care of it.”
Planting her palms on her hips, she walks in a tight circle while staring at the ground. The pieces are falling into place for her, but she’s still not quite seeing the big picture. She throws up her hands, slicing me with a glare. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now!”
“I mean . . .” I offer a small shrug. “A thank you would be nice.”
Her jaw drops.
“I needed to make sure if something ever happened, the shop would be yours,” I explain.
And mine.
Togetherly ever after.
She shakes her head. “You’re lying to me.”
“I wouldn’t lie about this.”
She glares at me for a good ten seconds. “What the fuck!” she says, her voice going up an octave. With a red face and eyes that are practically bulging, she asks, “Why can’t you just put me in your will like a normal fucking person?”
Easy. I’m not a normal fucking person. What in God’s name gave her that idea? “Look, you’ve always been mine, Chaos. All I did was file the paperwork to make it legal.”
“You cannot be serious right now. Do you understand how messed up this is?” Her voice pitches high at the end, and Odin’s ears twitch at the shrill sound.
I shrug.
Her hand gestures are out of control. She’s kind of adorable with her little fists flying around like that.
“A shrug? Your apology for acting absolutely insane is a fucking shrug? You don’t even sound remorseful!”
I chuckle with a knitted brow. “What part of that sounded like an apology to you?” My mouth curves up in a smirk, and I shake my head. “I’m not sorry.”
She gapes at me. Damn, she is big mad. “You!” Her voice is almost guttural, cartoonish; despite it all, my amusement is at an all-time high. I roll my lips together to keep from laughing.
Her eyes shoot daggers at me as she sweeps her arm to the side, pointing to the door. “Get out.”
Odin hears “out” and hurries to the door. She’s not talking to you, dude.
“No, thanks.” I sigh and flop down on the sofa, threading my fingers behind my head. “I think I’ll stay.”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” She takes a deep breath. “Now.”
I kick my feet up on the coffee table. “I’m not leaving.”
“Fine! Then I’ll call the police,” she says, whipping out her phone.
“Call them. I’m your husband. I live here. They aren’t going to kick me out just because you’re suddenly having buyer’s remorse.”
She spins in a circle as if something around here is going to help any of this make sense. Now it’s her time to spiral. Poor thing.
Odin trots back into the room and jumps on the sofa with me. “Have you been letting him on the couch? I thought we decided on no furniture?”
“This is outrageous,” she mutters to herself.
“Look, you can be mad all you want, but I am your husband and it’s my job to keep you safe.” I scratch Odin behind the ears while her sanity circles the drain.
Her arms fall at her sides, and then she raises the phone again. “I’m still gonna call the police and report what you did! I never signed any papers agreeing to this.”
My arms stretch out across the back of the couch, and Odin rests his head in my lap. “You really wanna send Thor back to prison?”
She unlocks the screen. “What does Thor have to do with any of this?”
“He’s your proxy, sweetheart. What do you think happens to felons who are involved in falsifying government documents?”
She gapes at me. “How could you put him at risk like that?”
“Hey, I’m not putting him at risk.” I hold up my hands. “You are.”
The phone clatters to the floor. Crisis averted.
“How dare you put this on me! You know what, fuck this.” She jabs a finger in my direction. “And fuck you too. If you won’t leave, then I will. Come on, Odie.”
Odin bounds off the sofa as she storms past me. I leap off the couch and cross the room in three giant strides to snatch her keys off the wall before she can reach them.
“Goddamn it. Give me those!”
The way her hands ball into fists at her sides makes me bark out a laugh. Does she really think she’s in control right now?
She holds an open palm in front of me. “Please, Logan?”
Nice try.
“‘Please’ isn’t going to work this time, babe. I made you a married woman without your permission. Do you think holding you here against your will is that difficult? Come on.”
Her eyes well with tears. “Logan, how could you?”
She’s faking. She’s not sad, she just happens to cry when she’s really pissed off, and now she’s trying to use that trait to her advantage. “Cute crocodile tears.”
“Ugh!” she exclaims.
I stalk toward her and tuck a strand of wild hair behind her ear; her top lip curls and she swats my hand away.
“I promise I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams when you’re ready.
You won’t miss out on anything. I’ll buy you whatever dress you want, all the flowers, we can invite as many people—”
Her chin quivers before she grimaces. “You’ve never even said you love me.” Her words hit me like a slap.
Damn.
I peer down at her while gently angling her face to meet mine. “Haven’t I?”
“No.” Then she actually slaps me, pointing up at me. “And don’t you dare say it now!” She stomps toward the hallway while I’m left rubbing the sharp sting on my cheek.
“Oh, sorry, did you want to say it first?” I call after her, with a little attitude.
She spins on her heel. “You act like this is no big deal. How can you joke right now?”
“You act like this wasn’t inevitable . . . And I can’t help it. Rage looks good on you.” I’m also fired up after that slap. I’ll give her a pass on the physical outburst. Honestly? I had it coming.
The tears fall, and she backs toward the hallway. “I hate you!”
No, she doesn’t. “Aww. Is this our first fight?”
“It’s about to be our last!” she shouts, spinning around and walking down the hall toward the bedroom.
“I sure hope not!” I yell. “You’re kinda sexy when you’re mad.”
She marches back, only to get a good look at me smiling. “I’ve never been so angry with you, Logan Teller. When we get divorced, I’m taking the dog!”
Odin glances between us.
I laugh. “Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll order us a pizza. You’ll feel much better after you eat.”
She shakes her head at me in disgust. “This isn’t over!”
“I know, Chaos,” I mutter.
She clomps away. Then bolts back. Again. I plop back down on the couch and rest my elbows on my knees, waiting for her next shot at getting in the last word. It’s like she can’t decide whether she wants to slam a door in my face or keep berating me.
“I’m gonna bankrupt you seven times over with the diamond you’re putting on my finger.”
My grin stretches ear to ear, and I cluck my tongue. “It came pretty close.” I’d already been saving for a couple years by the time I bought it.
She bares her teeth at me, unsatisfied by my glee at her statement. I can’t help but laugh when she storms off for the third—or is it fourth?—time.
“And you’re sleeping on the fucking couch!” she screams before throwing the bedroom door shut.
I lean back, kicking my feet up again and scrolling through my phone while selecting her favorite pizza toppings on the delivery app. “We’ll see about that,” I mutter. “Wife.”