TEN
Harper
When a door closed, a window opened.
That’s what she’d always been taught.
Something else always came along, especially if there was a problem. A solution could be found.
But for more than a week, Harper had searched for a way to discredit Cain Emerson, to use as blackmail, to keep him in line with whatever he was aiming to do, and she came up empty-handed.
The man was squeaky clean.
She knew he wasn’t.
He was the devil adjacent.
But he’d cleaned his digital footprints. There wasn’t even a social media page or a news article. She’d searched the entire country for any charges, no matter how small. She would have been happy to find an unpaid parking fine, but there was nothing.
Defeated, Harper curled her legs underneath her, staring blankly at the computer screen.
She couldn’t find a way out of this and became increasingly sick over Cain’s vicious actions. The man had no soul.
Days of coffee and frantic energy, with hardly any sleep, had kept her going. Now, she was chugging along on fumes. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, too wired to sleep for long in case something terrible happened.
She was obsessively calling her parents at all hours of the day to check they were okay. Her mom was becoming suspicious because Harper spoke to them regularly, but she rarely called as frequently as she was currently.
She only felt a sense of relief when her parents were at the clubhouse.
That place was built to withstand a nuclear bomb. Access to the secure building was restricted, meaning not just anyone was allowed in.
Over the years, the brotherhood had added layers of security. If intruders triggered the perimeter, there was a basement area used as a panic room for the old ladies and kids.
Cain wouldn’t get away with hitting the club from any vantage point.
Yet thoughts of snipers flooded her mind, reigniting her panic. She jumped to her feet and began pacing around her apartment, trapped by fear.
Although she’d thought about telling her dad countless times and had started sharing her feelings with him, she was too scared of Cain’s revenge.
Unbidden, a tear rolled down her cheek, and she angrily swiped it away with the back of her hand. She would not give that demon the satisfaction.
She was determined to find a way to stop him.
There was no other choice. She had to.
And then, in the dead of night, after only thirty-six minutes of restless sleep when she jolted awake after a nightmare, she flung back the bedcovers and padded to the en-suite bathroom to wash her face.
Switching on the heat, she turned on a side table lamp, illuminating her cream-colored living room with the three-seater couch, cuddle chair, and a soft rug in the middle. She curled up in the extra wide cuddle chair, cradling the phone.
She’d been hitting brick walls for days and was exhausted, terrified, and defeated.
Picking at the soft material of her Christmas PJs decorated in candy canes, Harper let herself think about that parting kiss.
She’d forbidden it to wander around her brain since she’d climbed into the back of the Mercedes, and the driver had taken her home.
She hated every fiber of Cain’s being, but he kissed her like he didn’t hate her back.
With her last shred of hope, she dialed the number Harper had found, the address of her captivity.
She didn’t even know if he’d pick up or maybe he’d already returned to California. With any hopes, he’d fallen into a deep volcano, and all her problems would be solved.
Ha, that would be nice, but men like him fell in horse crap and came up smelling of expensive cologne.
As the number rang, the nausea in her stomach intensified, and she had to swallow the urge to throw up. Her foot jiggled with nerves, waiting.
Right around the time she was ready to hang up, the call picked up, and dread clung to her voice box.
“Who the fuck is it?” a sleep-ladened male voice growled. But it wasn’t Cain.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“You called me in the middle of the goddamn night.”
“Damon?” she guessed.
“Yes,” he growled again. “Who is it? And what the fuck do you want?”
She didn’t care she’d woken him. It wasn’t a call she wanted to be making at all.
Once again, that monster had backed her into a corner, and she was coming out swinging with her only bargaining chip. But Harper felt half certain he wouldn’t refuse after that forceful kiss against the door. As he’d claimed, it wasn’t for show or to seal the marriage. Cain had wanted it.
“It’s Harper. I need to speak to Cain.”
There was only a second of silence, and then she heard the grin in his voice. “Ah, it’s the little wife. How are you, cutie?”
Ugh. She did not want a conversation with the sidekick.
Or Cain.
But with Cain, it was a necessary evil.
“I’ve been better. Is he there?”
“Sorry, cutie, he isn’t. He’s working out of state.”
Could she hope he was wrestling with ravenous crocodiles? She sent up a prayer in case a vigilante angel with female rage was listening and wanted to do Harper a solid favor.
“Can you have him call me then?”
“Anything I can do? I’m happy to help the little wifey.”
“No.” she pressed the button to hang up on Cain’s associate.
There was no sense of relief as Harper exhaled.
Suppose he didn’t call; what happened then? Torn between her fear and defying her deranged husband, she worried about Cain’s potential rage if she confessed to her father.
So much hinged on uncertain what-ifs. Harper was paralyzed by indecision, each option deepening her sense of doom. Normally, she’d hash things out with Angela—the one person she trusted to give it to her straight, even if the truth stung. Angie was all about tough love and no-nonsense solutions, and with a husband like Lawless—a ferocious guardian who’d tear someone apart for even a glance in her direction—who wouldn’t listen to her?
They were another couple still profoundly and forever in love, and she’d always aspired for their kind of relationship.
But now she had a freaking husband. Against her will, and one she didn’t know how to detangle herself from, so how would that go in years to come if she were to fall in love with someone?
Honey, I love you, but I was forced to marry a demon on a revenge streak, and he’s the petty type, so watch out.
Yeah, she couldn’t envision a scenario where that worked out.
Sighing, she climbed to her feet to pee, and since she was up, she’d grab a snack. There would be no more sleeping tonight, but she hadn’t even taken a step when her phone vibrated on the table, startling her eyes into widening.
Dreading who it could be. Every time her phone rang these days, she expected Knox on the other end to tell her something terrible had happened to their parents.
She couldn’t live with the fear. It was tearing her apart.
Unknown number.
Could it be?
Her nerves rattled, and she swallowed reflexively, answering. “Hello?”
“Sweet baby.” He rolled the words, and Harper’s stomach coiled.
It hadn’t even been two minutes since she hung up from Damon, and Cain was already calling her.
“Damon said you were looking for me. This is a nice surprise.”
It wasn’t nice for her. The opposite of nice. Her butt hit the chair again. She needed to be seated for what she had to say next.
“Harper. I can hear you breathing.” He reminded her she hadn’t spoken yet.
“I want to make a deal.” She exclaimed.
“Oh? Do tell.” The amusement slithered through his voice, and she was urged to smack him fifty times across his smug, tight-jawed face. Though the hour was late, his voice didn’t sound tired. It had a gravel edge, like sandpaper over the smooth surface of wood, rough yet strangely pleasurable to listen to. He would be the hottest narrator if he ever read romance books. Harper was disgusted even to have that thought about Cain. She refused to acknowledge his voice was hot as fuck.
“I said I’d give you anything to leave my family alone, to forget your stupid vendetta.”
“I do recall that.” he hummed low like he could see her squirming.
The words wouldn’t come, but she had to force them up her throat and out of her mouth.
Though there was a toastiness to the room, her skin went cold all over.
“I…” she swallowed again.
“You what, Harper?”
The scream was right there, percolating in the base of her throat, but she refused to lose her control. It was the last thing she had left. So she forged on, as a Marinos did in times of adversity.
This was only a battle.
The war had yet to start.
And if she was going to war with a crazy man like Cain, she had to strike first.
“You enjoyed kissing me,” she reminded him.
“Mmm, I did. Very much.”
“You can have me. If you leave everyone alone for good.”
The air pulsated with anticipation. Harper held her breath on reflex, the air refusing to travel down to her lungs while she waited for him to speak. The stretch of silence seemed to last a whole lifetime.
“Elaborate.” He demanded huskily.
“My body, Cain. You can have my body.”
Fuck. Shit .
She’d said it, hadn’t she?
Harper presented the only thing she had left to think to use that she knew he might want, and the wash of nausea threatened to strangle her as she tapped her leg repeatedly, trying to find a patch of calm in a storm of anxiety and anger.
Nervously, she ran her dry tongue across her lips, trying to control her breathing.
And then the monster spoke. “You’re proposing the use of your body, little girl? Now that’s bold. I fucking admire the shit out of you for doing that.”
Oh, goodie, the monster was praising her.
She didn’t snap or come back with a quick-witted quip. Now wasn’t the time for her sarcasm.
“Is it a deal, then?”
“Well, now, that all depends.”
She frowned. “On?”
“On if you’ll lie there like a sacrificial lettuce or if you’ll enjoy me using all your sweet holes.”
Oh, god. She was going to throw up.
“I.” she paused. “I don’t need to enjoy anything for you to get off. Don’t you know how male anatomy works?”
She heard him click his tongue. “No deal.”
“Wait.” She panicked.
“Agree to be an active lover, Harper. Every single time I have you. And to enjoy it as much as I will. I’ll make sure you do.”
“God, I hate you so fucking much.” She spat, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. But she’d be lying if the images of his words didn’t springboard themselves through her mind against her will.
She didn’t want to know what type of lover he’d be. She could guess he’d be rough and demanding. Nothing sweet about that psycho.
“You don’t have to love me to fuck me, baby.” She heard the smirk in his tone, and she dug her manicured nails into her thigh to stop herself from spitting expletives. “Tell me you’re attracted to me.”
“Fuck you.” She hissed, and Cain laughed.
“No deal.”
“You’re a psychopath. Are you aware of that?”
“Tell me you’re attracted to me, Harper, and you enjoyed my tongue in your mouth.”
“I can’t say that. I hate you.”
“I know you do. But tell me, anyway.” His voice turned lower, almost like he wanted to coax her into liking him.
That would be the last thing she’d ever do.
She didn’t want to sleep with that deplorable man. No sane woman would in Harper’s situation. Desperate for her family’s safety, she would do anything.
“Harper.” He crooned down the phone, and his voice was whiskey poured over ice. “You’re enticing when you’re hating me. But I’m about to hang up.” He added.
“No. Wait . Do you swear you won’t go through with whatever madcap plan you have against my family?”
“Tell me what I want to hear.”
“I hate you.” She sighed. And Cain waited. “But before I knew all this stuff about you and how utterly cruel you could be, I was attracted to you.”
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
It was fucking excruciating to admit because she hated herself a little more for it.
Before she could say more, Cain yelled.
“Shut your fucking trap while I’m talking to my wife. If I hear one more bitching word from you, fuck-knuckle, I’m gonna put a bullet between your eyes. Test my patience, see if I’m bullshitting, I’ll gladly do it.” She heard, and Harper caught her breath. Was he talking about using her body for his pleasure in front of others?
“Who are you talking to?” she snapped.
“A bail jumper, who’s about to be a dead motherfucker in my truck if I see his lips move again. Now get back to telling me how you want me to have your body, sweet baby.”
“I’m not having this conversation with someone listening in!” she all but shrieked.
“Do you want me to shoot him in the head?”
He said it so seriously that she could only take a big inhale.
“No, I don’t want you to shoot that man. But feel free to shoot yourself.”
He chuckled, entertained by her misery.