Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
elena
It’s sort of kind of official.
I am technically married to Isaac Logan.
We have a temporary marriage license that’s good for one hundred and eighty days.
There was a ceremony for my family. And we took pictures of both for Ivy and our attorney to present to the heads of the production studio hoping they’ll decide we aren’t in breach of contract and can continue filming.
It’s early in the morning but we’re packed and ready to head back to Montana. Isaac and my father are inside having one last man to man chat about who knows what.
It’s taking them awhile, so I run out to grab the dish of my mother’s I’d brought back to return from our last visit.
She takes her handmade casserole dishes very seriously and she’s asked me about it twice already but in all the thrown together wedding chaos, I kept forgetting.
Probably because my body and my brain are at war with each other and Isaac Logan and his offspring are rewiring both.
I’m leaning into the truck to grab the casserole dish when the distinct sound of tires crunching gravel alerts me to someone pulling into the drive.
Retreating from the truck, I find a black SUV blocking me in. The windows are tinted so dark I can’t see through them. The engine rumbles low and loud, like a warning growl from a rabid animal.
My pulse ticks up when Diego steps out slowly like he’s savoring the drama of his surprise appearance.
He removes his dark sunglasses. Our eyes meet and I refuse to be the first to look away. I knew him when he used to wet the bed. I’m not intimidated by whatever he’s trying to pull.
“Well, well, and here I thought we were done playing hide-and-seek, little mouse.”
His smile makes my skin crawl all over itself.
“What are you doing here?” I fold my arms over my chest, praying Isaac doesn’t come outside and see him here.
“You wound me, Elena.” He places a hand over his chest. “A wedding? Figured my invite got lost in the mail.”
“It didn’t. You should go.”
He steps closer. I don’t move.
“So, you’re marrying him? Really? Just because he knocked you up?” He scrunches his nose.
“I already married him. Sorry you missed it.” I wrap my arms around my mid-section.
He makes a rude snorting sound. “Scraps of paper mean nothing to me.”
“Must be hard for you, Diego.” I take a step backward because this is not the guy I grew up with. The one who cried at recess and was raised by a mother who spoiled him half to death. “Not getting your way for once.”
He looks amused. “Not as hard as it will be for you. All alone. Pregnant. Pretending like some cowboy’s gonna ride in and save you.”
I clench my jaw. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“Oh, I know enough.” His voice drops. “Like the fact that his family has a lot to lose. Land. Cattle. Family legacy going back generations.”
“You don’t know his family.”
“Don’t I?”
He pulls his cellphone from his pocket. Turns it to face me.
On the screen is a surveillance-style shot of Laurel Logan leaving the farmer’s market where she sells her homemade pies and jams. He scrolls and I see Ivy and Wyatt leaving The Stillery, Willow getting into a truck hauling a horse trailer, Sutton having coffee with several other girls in a café, and then there’s Isaac.
So, so many of Isaac.
My blood turns to ice as the morning sky tilts above me.
“Where did you get those? Why do you have them?”
“I have friends everywhere, Elena. Even in that dusty little town you like so much.” He tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket.
“So, you decided to have your ‘friends’ start watching me? Why?”
“Start watching you?” He lets out an obnoxious peel of laughter.
“Sweetheart, did you ever think I wasn’t watching?
Did you believe I just let you go? How do you think you got the parts you did or that last minute opening at your fancy apartment in LA?
Come on now. You’re a smart girl. Surely you knew someone had to have a hand in all that. ”
I wince remembering that the lady who’d been in my apartment got moved to a nursing home even though everyone said she was in perfect health.
And the role I’d gotten in Going Country for Christmas was only because the original actress had fallen down some stairs and broken her collar bone at a party.
“I thought it was divine intervention, I guess.”
His words make me question my entire reality. All this time, I thought it was hard work and determination. Not some creep pulling strings to control me.
“Well, I am Godlike.”
I can’t help it. My face shows what a joke I think he is before I can stop it. And he sees it.
“Oh, I know, little mouse. You think I’m a choirboy.
That’s what I let everyone think. And that night, the night you finally spread those legs for me like the whore that you are,” he comes so close I can smell alcohol on his rank breath.
“That night I played the part. Gentle. Careful. Nervous. So, I wouldn’t lose control and hurt you like I wanted to.
” With a salacious grin he leans closer.
I fight the urge not to flinch backward.
“What? You think you’re the only one from our shitty little town who can act? ”
I glance toward the door, tossing up a silent prayer that Isaac will appear any second now.
“I think you need to leave, Diego. And stay far away from me and my family if you know what’s good for you.”
“Did your mother tell you I got a promotion?”
“No.” The hair on my arms lifts. “Why should I care?”
He leans in, lowering his voice. “Because helping the right people make a lot of money without facing the consequences is very rewarding.”
“The right people,” I breathe. “As in criminals?”
The firm Diego works for has always been rumored to have cartel connections. He swore to my family and his when he was hired there that it was just racism, plain and simple. That the competition was spreading rumors because of our heritage.
We believed him. A mistake I now hate myself for.
“Don’t be dramatic, Elena. I prefer to call them businessmen.”
My stomach turns. “You’re disgusting.”
He scoffs. “I’m successful. Wealthier than anyone ever thought I could be.”
“You’re a stereotype.”
His eyes narrow. “I can have any woman I want, Elena. Any woman.”
He’s mostly right. He’s handsome. Charming. The girls we grew up with were always crazy about Diego. But I never saw him that way. Now I can’t help but wonder if that’s why he’s always been so set on having me.
“No. You can’t.”
Fury flares in his gaze.
I should heed the warning signals my body is giving me that this man is not who I thought he was, that he’s dangerous. But I can’t stop my anger from overflowing.
“I’m out trying my damnedest to change how the world views us,” I remind him.
“Trying to show both the world and kids who grew up like us that they can be more than background noise, than bodies to be used and tossed. That we aren’t just maids or the help or criminals.
Trying to prove we can lead, own companies, make a difference.
I’m trying to rewrite narratives. And you—” I shake my head.
“You’re a b-villain in a low-budget movie. Sleazy suit. Dirty hands. Big ego.”
His smile dies. “Really? And what narrative were you re-writing when you let that gringo knock you up? Because I’d bet my entire paycheck, he was playing out a Hispanic hooker fantasy—”
My hand flies before I can stop it, but my palm doesn’t make it to his cheek.
He grabs my wrist mid-air, fingers clamping down hard. So hard it feels like my bones might snap. “I’m going to let that slide because I like you,” he growls. “But you need to come home. For good. Before things get…unpleasant.”
I yank my wrist free, chest heaving. “You’re not special, Diego. You were just spoiled. Your mommy told you rules didn’t apply to you, and now you think you’re untouchable.”
“You can touch me anytime you like.”
“Gross,” I spit at him, taking a step back.
“You’re rotten inside. Hollow. I see it now.
God, how I used to envy you. The doting, the popularity.
The constant praise. Everything seemed to come so easy to you.
But now?” I pause to catch my breath then rush on.
“I’m grateful. For every scrap I had to fight for.
Because it made me someone real. Not someone like you. ”
“Someone like me,” he repeats slowly. “Someone that could give you a life. Protect you. Someone with connections.”
“I don’t give a single shit about your connections,” I practically hiss. “And I don’t need you to protect me.”
He chuffs out an amused laugh. “You will. You think I only have connections here? Sweetheart, we’ve got our hands in everything from Montana ranches to DC Courthouses. Trust me when I tell you, your precious Logans will never be safe with you there.”
I swallow hard. “You’re bluffing.”
“I don’t bluff.” He steps into my space, so close I can smell his expensive cologne masking something rank beneath. “You’re right. Everything has come easy for me. Everything except you.”
There it is—the only reason he wants me. Because I never wanted him. Because I went out and made something of myself and he was supposed to be the only golden child of our tiny town.
He doesn’t care about me at all. All he cares about is snuffing out my fire and adding me to his collection of broken dolls.
“Then you should know by now, Diego. It’s never going to happen.”
“Never say never, Elena.” He eyes my parents’ house then moves toward his SUV.
“You walk away from me again, and I make a call. That ranch? Goes up in flames. Cattle poisoned. Bulls disappear. Accidents happen. Maybe your golden cowboy ends up in the hospital. Maybe worse.” He stops, shoves his hands in his pockets.
“The best part? I won’t have to lift a finger. ”
When I don’t respond, because I’m busy mentally calculating suspicious events I now wonder if Diego played a role in.
Like the missing girls. So many girls have gone missing from our area—way more than makes sense for the small population.
Always to be found later dead, badly abused, addicted to drugs, or trafficked into prostitution.
He touches his chin as if he’s thinking. Performative creep that he is. “Say, didn’t your cowboy’s dad already meet an untimely demise? Maybe they’re cursed.”
“Don’t threaten them. And don’t threaten me,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I can’t believe you’re the same little boy who cried on the playground when he got picked last for kickball.
Wait, no, I can. Because you’re still a whiny little bitch crying about not getting your way.
Except now you stomp your feet and make threats. ”
The slap comes so fast I don’t see it until the left side of my face is on fire.
He grins, satisfied with the pain and horror I must be showing.
My eyes fill but I refuse to let a single tear fall because fuck him. I clench my jaw shut and grind my teeth together so hard they’re in danger of cracking.
“Aww, don’t cry,” he patronizes. “Isn’t that how you like it, Elena?
Rough, like you wanted?” He brushes his lips against mine and I recoil even if it means another slap.
“You say goodbye to your cowboy now. Wrap it up nice and neat so he doesn’t come looking for you.
Come home, Elena. Before that bastard child of yours is born.
We’ll get married, tell everyone the baby was mine all along.
We make this right. Or I burn it all down.
Then you’ll see just how rough I can be. ”
“You’re sick.” Not to mention delusional. I don’t know for certain what mine and Isaac’s baby will look like, but I doubt it will pass for mine and Diego’s.
“No,” he says quietly, gripping my jaw in his hand. “I’m powerful. And if you cry to anyone for help, I’ll know. And so will my friends. Enjoy your honeymoon, little mouse.”
He releases my face so roughly I stumble backward.
He turns and gets in his SUV like nothing happened. Drives away, red lights glowing in the darkness like a demon disappearing. Or going back into hiding.
My legs give out. I lean against the truck, trying to catch my breath, trying not to throw up. Or pass out.
Because the darkness I always felt looming has finally found me.
And not just me.
Isaac.
His family.
Our child.
I have no doubt Diego will make good on his threats.
I have to stop him somehow.
But first, I have to put as much separation between me and the Logan family as possible.