Chapter Two
CAMILLE
It’s the worst day of my life, and I’ve never looked better.
There’s a cruel joke in there. The universe’s way of reminding me that even the terrible moments in life have a certain beauty. Even when you don’t want to look.
“Pretty, pretty,” my hairdresser tuts. She pins another curl up, smiling as she sprays it into place.
Everything is bigger in Texas, including my hair. It’s been brushed, curled, and teased to heights that feel gravity-defying, and yet somehow look chic. My makeup is just as flawless, and the wedding gown fits as if it was made for me.
I shudder, not wanting to know how Aiden knew my size. The possibilities are too terrifying.
My trembling earns me a frown from the dark-eyed woman putting the last touches of body glitter on my skin. “It’s over soon, chica. Now be still.”
I swallow over the rigid lump in my throat, holding the tears and my pleas at bay. Both have already fallen on deaf ears. These women are either well-paid or indebted to Aiden; either way, they have no interest in helping me.
“Pretty, pretty,” the hairdresser says again and steps back.
The makeup lady ushers me out of the chair toward the full-length mirror, her smile radiant. “Such a lovely bride.”
White lace clings to my breasts, held up by two tiny straps that feel fragile against my shoulders.
The vee of the neckline dips almost to my waist, and there’s almost no back to the dress.
Satin trimmed with lace hugs my hips and flows to a small train, hiding the sparkly heels that fit perfectly.
The gown and shoes are pretty, but nothing I’d have chosen for myself.
It’s a reminder that none of this is my choice. It hasn’t been from the moment our engagement was announced.
How did I get here? What did I do to draw Aiden’s attention? His obsession?
What did my father do to agree to this wedding in the first place?
And why now, when the wedding was supposed to be another month away?
The door to the dressing room at the small chapel opens, and Aiden steps in. No knock, no hesitation that I might be undressed. He simply waltzes in as if he owns everything—including me.
“Out!” he barks at my attendants.
The women lower their eyes and hurry from the room, leaving just the two of us.
The wooden door shuts behind them with a finality that turns my stomach.
Aiden Frost, self-made millionaire and technology genius, studies me with a warmth that belies his name.
He’s classically handsome, in a Ken-doll way.
The type of man women everywhere stop to admire because he’s close to movie-star handsome.
Close, but the darkness underneath his tailored suit seeps out and blurs the image.
He skims his gaze down my body, lingering on the curve of my neck and my hips. “You’re breathtaking, darling.”
I swallow and lace my trembling fingers over my stomach.
I’m scared to speak, afraid that anything I say will come out as a plea, or maybe a scream.
But after this morning, I know that neither will have any effect.
The gilded cage I’ve lived my entire life in has changed hands, sold like an antique to a collector.
Aiden steps closer, and his heavy citrus cologne washes over me in an oppressive cloud.
I suck in a tiny breath through my mouth, trying to keep the nausea at bay. If there’s any way out of this... any chance he can be reasoned with...
“I’m sure you’re disappointed that your family couldn’t be here for our big day. Your father was looking forward to walking you down the aisle.”
He was. He glowed with pride, even when I insisted that I didn’t want this marriage. To him, it was time for me to do my duty, same as my sister Elizabeth had four years ago.
“Unfortunately, he’s made some poor choices,” Aiden continues, either unaware or uncaring that I haven’t spoken a word. “Even a man of his status must face consequences. It’s the law of nature.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. When I think I can speak without a tremor in my voice, I ask the question that’s been haunting me since two men broke into my bedroom and dragged me from my bed at dawn. “Why now? We were getting married next month.”
“Wedding jitters?” He smiles softly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to know one another better. We have the rest of our lives. We can even have another ceremony in a few weeks to include your family. Would you like that?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. My lips are tingling, and my chest feels tight, like I can’t draw more than a teaspoon of air.
“But you asked why. It seems your father can’t be trusted to keep his word.” He looks away briefly, then locks his focus on me. “Your sister is another matter.”
My gut clenches so tight, I’m afraid it will never release.
He doesn’t know. He can’t. Right? There’s no way he could know of my panicked call to my sister three days ago, where I cried that I couldn’t go through with it.
She promised she’d get help, even when we both knew it was hopeless.
She’s as locked into a loveless marriage as I’m about to be.
Except her husband probably hasn’t killed people.
The first time I looked into Aiden’s eyes, a jolt of fear slid down my spine. He’s been nothing but warm and charming. Logically, I should be thankful my father chose a handsome and successful man like him, but every time his gaze touches mine, a bone-deep terror freezes me.
I should run. Scream. Anything. But my knees are locked in place and my brain blanks when I consider running. What if he finds me again? How much worse will it be?
What if I succeed but can’t survive on my own?
Someone else has decided every part of my life. What I wear. Where I go. Who I talk to.
What I eat and drink.
Since I was a child, my life has consisted only of what I would need to be a proper wife to the man of my father’s choosing. I’ve had no freedom. No choices.
If I had to crawl back to my family, would I find myself right back here anyway?
Yes.
I feel it like the sickening twist of a knife in my heart.
I’m trapped. Now. Tomorrow. It doesn’t matter. There is no future without Aiden Frost in it.
He unlocks one of my hands and brings it to his lips. It’s tender, like the look he gives me, and I want to throw up.
He backs toward the door, taking me in from head to toe. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Every man here will be jealous.” The words seem to please him. “I’ll send your attendants back in.”
The door closes behind him with a soft snick.
I stare at it for one heartbeat.
Two.
Then I’m shoving a chair under the doorknob and searching the room with wide eyes. There. The window.
I fly toward it, snatching my phone off the vanity as I run, wrestle up the heavy glass window that must be original to the church, and duck through.
Cold air blasts my skin, sending a violent shiver through me.
I didn’t have a coat when they brought me here.
Not even my own shoes. As I run across the grass in heels, sprinting on my toes because the stilettos keep catching and clutching the train of this stupid dress, I wish I was home, tucked up in bed.
Or maybe at the library, curled in a dark corner with a romance.
Anywhere but running across a churchyard as darkness falls on a frigid January night.
I’m almost to the sidewalk when I hear a commotion behind me. Did they get into the room? Do they already know I’m gone?
I kick off the heels and run.
Five minutes pass, or maybe an hour. Time stretches into a meaningless loop of strange streets, pools of light to avoid from the streetlamps, and the little puffs of air visible as I exhale.
A bead of sweat slides down my back.
I can’t tell if it’s cold or warm, only that my skin is too sensitized to the feeling and it makes me jump, then stumble. When I make it to my feet, I trip on the train, and the lace rips. The sound is so loud in the darkness, I freeze.
But no one heard it. There’s no one here. The street is empty.
I drag in a breath, needing a break but afraid to slow down. My hand twitches, and I realize that I’m still clenching my phone in a death grip. Am I far enough away to call Elizabeth? If I can get to a familiar place, she could come for me. Maybe together we can figure a way out of this nightmare.
Lights flash at the end of the street.
A car turns onto the road, and headlights wash over me.
My heart dips, then begins to pound so loud, all I hear is my rapid heartbeat in my ears.
I don’t know whether to flag the person down or hide. Aiden must know I’m gone. But what if it’s someone who can help?
Panic wins the debate. I tuck the phone into my garter and run.
The car speeds up, then a familiar black SUV swerves in front of me.
I veer left, but a man has already leaped from the vehicle. Arms wrap around me, lifting me off the ground.
No!
I can’t go back. I won’t.
Shrieking like a wildcat, I fight my attacker with all my strength. I scratch and claw at his clothes and skin, anything I can reach. Biting and dropping my weight, even kicking for his privates.
The man swears, barely holding onto me.
A hand digs into my hair and yanks my head back at an awkward angle.
“Finally,” the first man mutters. “Take her legs.”
I fight through the pain, thrashing and flailing. My dress rips as they struggle to contain me.
If they get me in that car, it’s over.
“Fuck,” the second man grunts when I reach back and claw his face.
“Why does he want her so badly?” The other snarls, grabbing for my arms.
Metal thunks against metal, like the sound of a car door.
I barely register it before something slams into the second attacker. His hand loosens from my hair a split second before the heat of his body disappears, and I’m falling backward.
The first guy tips forward, trying to hold me up.
A shadow blurs, and he’s gone. Fists hit flesh as I tumble to the ground, landing hard on my hip and elbow.
I blink, and a pair of dusty cowboy boots comes into view, standing between me and my attackers. I follow them up to a third man.
He draws a gun and points it at the two men.
“Go.”
The single command has them easing to their feet. The first man glances at me.
The cowboy shifts, blocking his line of sight. “Now.”
They limp to their SUV. Seconds later, only the glow of their taillights remain.
My savior holsters his weapon and slowly turns.
His face is in shadow with the streetlamps behind him and the rim of his cowboy hat pulled low. I can just make out a trimmed beard of dark hair, firm lips, and intense eyes.
My heart climbs my throat. I should run, but my body is bruised and not used to this exertion. The cold is seeping into my skin everywhere it’s exposed, and since my dress is almost nonexistent, that’s everywhere. A shiver rips through my body, and my teeth start to chatter.
The man swears and strips off his jacket. Metal glints in the light, and I catch sight of a badge on his hip. A plaid flannel stretches across the broadest chest I’ve ever seen, and he smells like leather.
“Camille Whitaker?” he asks, voice rumbling as he holds his jacket out to me.
My lips part, but nothing comes out.
He slowly leans forward and wraps the jacket around my shoulders, telegraphing every move like he’s dealing with an injured animal.
The thought is funny, but even a smile is too much.
“Your father sent me,” he says.
Those four words break through my terror, and I scramble to my feet. “No. No, no, no. You can’t take me back. Please.” I lurch forward and grab his shirt in my fists, staring up into his shadowed face.
Strong hands come up and gently grip my arms. His fingers flex.
“Please,” I beg.
He swears softly, then, “You’re coming with me, Princess. I’ll take you somewhere safe until this is sorted out.”
Before I can protest, he scoops me into his arms and carries me to his truck as if I weigh nothing.
I shouldn’t go with this stranger. I don’t even know him. But as my panic subsides, I realize that for the first time in months, I feel safe.