Chapter 14 Saint #2
Terrified. Exhilarated. Alive in a way I haven’t felt since before Martin Everett showed up bleeding at my door.
“Like I’m going to throw up,” I lie.
“Liar,” he says and gives me a half smirk.
Before I can respond, he slides off and guides me back down onto the ground. My legs are shaky as I stand, the muscles protesting to the unfamiliar position. His hands hover near my hips, like he’s going to catch me if I fall.
It’s that kindness, that good in him, that makes me wish he were always like this. Maybe wanting him wouldn’t feel like a terrible sin.
“This weekend, we’ll do it again,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “And again. Until it’s as easy as breathing. We won’t have a chance tomorrow since the horses will be at the rodeo.”
The mention of the rodeo kills whatever fragile peace we’d found. I’m reminded of reality and what’s to come. How Allie is searching for me, and how her mother, Emma, is asking questions. Dangerous questions that could get her hurt.
“I need to call Allie,” I say quietly. “It will help to ease her mind, and maybe get her mother off your family’s back.”
Calder’s expression changes in an instant, returning to that hard, cold expression he gives everyone. “We talked about this already.”
“No, we didn’t. You told me what I was going to do. At no point did we discuss what I wanted. There’s a difference.” I step back, putting distance between us. “She’s my best friend, and she deserves to know that I’m okay.”
“And she’ll find out tomorrow when everyone else does.”
“Tomorrow is not today. I want to tell her myself. Not have her find out publicly.”
“You can want it for the rest of your life, but my answer will still be the same. You’re mine.
My wife, my responsibility. I choose what happens, or doesn’t happen, and if you disobey me, there will be consequences,” he hisses angrily and dismisses me.
Leading Storm back to the hitching post, he effectively ends the conversation.
You’re mine. The words echo through my mind. That’s what he wanted all along. Yes, he married me as a form of protection, but he also did it because he wants me.
“Saint.” He calls my name, knowing I’m not following.
“Why did you marry me?”
He stops mid-step but doesn’t turn around. “Do we really have to rehash this every single time you don’t get your way? You know why.”
“It’s not about getting my way. It’s about freedom, about me having a choice.
You said when I married you that I would get a choice.
That I would have a say. But I don’t. Or at least I haven’t yet.
” I steady myself. “Yes, you promised me protection, but what you’re doing right now isn’t about protecting me.
It’s selfish.” The silence stretches on between us, and when he doesn’t attempt to respond, I finish.
“Now tell me. What’s the real reason you married me?
Because it wasn’t only to protect me. I want to hear you say it. ”
Turning on his heels, he walks away, and this time, I follow.
I want him to admit it. To tell me the truth, even if it will damn us both. If he can’t give me anything else, maybe he can give me that? I wait for him to say something, to tell me what we’re doing next, but he doesn’t. He continues walking, right into the cabin.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he just paces around the cabin with that predatory grace that should terrify me even though it doesn’t.
Not anymore. Maybe I’m getting used to being prey.
Or perhaps I’m starting to understand that predator and protector aren’t always different things. Sometimes they’re the same.
After a few minutes, Calder stops and turns to face me. I catch sight of his dark expression and try not to show fear. It’s different now. The gentle demeanor from earlier is gone, and replaced with something I can’t name.
Something that makes me equally afraid and excited.
“You want to know why I married you?” He repeats my question from earlier.
“Yes. I want to know why you married me, and I want the truth.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Not your truth, or the truth you continue to tell me, but the real truth.”
“And you think you can handle that?” he asks, stepping closer.
Suddenly, my mouth is dry. “Yes. I also think I deserve it.”
“Do you?” He takes another step. “Deserve it?”
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not working.” I try to keep my voice even and strong, but that’s proving more difficult the closer he gets to me.
“Intimidating you is the last thing I want to do.” The possessiveness in his voice should make me recoil. Instead, my body responds with that shameful heat I’ve been trying to ignore.
“Then stop stalking toward me like a predator who is going to pounce at any second.” He’s close enough now that I can see the flecks in his ice-blue eyes.
“I am a predator. A monster.” He gently cups my jaw, forcing my eyes to his.
“But I’m your predator, your monster. And while I married you to protect you, you’re right, it runs far deeper than that.
” The possession, the way he touches me, his scent.
It surrounds me. It drowns out logical thinking, and the reminder that he is the type of sin that can kill.
My body refuses to move. Refusing to fight against the inevitable. The truth.
I lean into his touch even though I know better. Tiny zaps of pleasure ripple across my skin as his thumb traces my bottom lip.
“Calder—”
He shrugs out of his heavy jacket and tosses it on a chair. “Let me show you.”
Show me? “What do you mean?”
A shiver runs down my spine, desire and need rippling through my core.
“Walk to the bed and sit.” His voice has taken on that commanding edge I’m learning to recognize. The one that says arguing is pointless.
I don’t move. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to show you something.”
Fear and something infinitely more dangerous snakes through my veins. “Why not just—”
“Tell you?” His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. Not pulling, just holding. “Because I’m not always good with words, and I’d rather show you.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No, Saint. I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m sure by the time I’m done, you’ll wish I had.” He releases me and takes a step back. “Now walk over to the bed and don’t make me repeat myself.”
I give him one last glance before I do as I’m told. The bed is warm from the fire still burning in the hearth, and I brace myself against the blanket, trying to steady my breathing.
If he thinks I’m going to have sex with him, he’s out of his mind. Calder steps closer, deliberately. Like he’s giving me time to run again. Testing to see if I will.
I don’t.
My heart hammers against my ribs so hard I’m sure he can see it through the flannel. Stopping directly in front of me, he stands close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
“The night you kissed me. It did something to my brain. Fried it. Fucked me all up.”
My throat tightens. “It did?”
“It made me realize something was missing in my life. It made me crave something I’ve never craved before.
That night, I told you to leave me alone, to stay away from me, but every chance I got to be in the same room with you, I took it.
I wanted to be near you, touch you, smell you.
You were in my fucking head.” He points at his temple.
“I’m sorry.” My lips tremble as I apologize, mainly because I don’t know what else to say.
“Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. For not having enough self-control.
For not being strong enough to end it.” He shakes his head, and that dark look returns to his eyes.
“It wasn’t until after I couldn’t have you that I wanted you.
It was my fault, and I told myself I would learn to deal with it.
To get over it. Then everything with Martin happened, and the thought of killing you ripped me apart.
I couldn’t do it. Even knowing the consequence was death.
One kiss, Saint, and I was ready to kill for you.
That’s all it took. Marrying you was to protect you, sure.
But it was also a selfish choice because I knew if you married me, then I could keep you, make you mine, which is exactly what I wanted.
” The raw honesty in his voice steals my breath.
“So it was a lie. You did want me,” I whisper.
“Isn’t it obvious? I pushed you away to protect you. You were young. Hell, you’re still young. You didn’t know what you wanted. “ His hands go to his belt. “None of that matters now. It’s too late to run you off now. Now you’re mine. My wife. My responsibility. Mine to do with as I please.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“You’re about to find out. Take off your jeans.”
My whole body goes rigid. “What?”
“You heard me. Jeans off. Now.”
“No.”
“Saint.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours, but the outcome will still be the same.” I stare at him, searching for any sign he’s bluffing. But his eyes contain nothing but dark determination.
He means it. Every word.
“This has nothing to do with you marrying me,” I say, even as my hands move to the button on my jeans.
“Oh yes, it does.” He watches my fingers work the button free and slide the zipper down.
“I’ve just confessed my darkest desires to you, and now I’m going to show you how deep that possession and need run.
How much it’s pained me to watch you run away and fight me at every fucking turn.
I’m going to bring you to the edge of insanity and back again. ”
I hesitate, jeans open but still on. “By having sex with me?” My cheeks heat, and I know I’m way out of my element here.