Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
MAGGIE
My eyes burn after hours of focusing on the road. Staring so hard just to avoid the looks Roman keeps levelling at me.
White lines zip past until we hit the roads closer to home, where they disappear completely.
No matter how many times I tell myself he is not thinking about it, my brain keeps helpfully replaying the exact moment my body betrayed me in front of a corrupt policeman, a kidnapped neighbour, and probably several badgers.
I came.
On Roman.
While pretending to shag him.
Whether he’s thinking about it or not, I can think about little else. I’d moaned. In his ear. More than once. Fuck me.
Fire creeps into my face every time I sneak a look at Roman, getting so warm I feel like I need to scratch it off.
My fingers whiten on the steering wheel, as if squeezing it hard enough might replace my shame with pain. Needless to say, it doesn’t work.
Roman shifts beside me, wincing as the ties cut into his wrists.
The silence stretches as we navigate twisting B-roads, my stomach flipping from both my driving and the impending chaos that awaits.
Make conversation. People still talk after pretending to have sex in front of a policeman all the time. Probably.
‘You’re quiet,’ Roman says.
‘I’m driving.’
‘You weren’t so quiet when you were—’
‘No,’ I cut in, far too loudly. ‘Don’t finish that sentence. I absolutely cannot go there.’
‘If it helps,’ he says, ‘I’m also going to need therapy.’
I snort out a laugh, which immediately turns into a mortified cough. Laughing feels wildly inappropriate after kidnapping and riding the poor fucker.
The silence descends again in a thick blanket. I can feel his stare hitting the side of my head, like he’s trying to work out whether I’m dangerous, deranged, or just catastrophically pathetic.
Honestly, all three are fair.
‘So,’ he says, eventually. ‘Are you going to explain what the hell we’re about to do?’
I very much want to barf. At least that might pause the conversation a little longer.
‘Yeah. I guess I should explain.’
I do not want to explain. Roman already thinks I’m crazy. How much of my wild family do I let him know about?
All of it, I guess. In for a penny and all that
But where the hell do I begin?
‘This is the bit where you regret getting in the car,’ I say.
His eyebrow lifts. ‘I’m not sure I had a choice, to be fair.’
I exhale and grip the wheel even harder.
‘Okay. Eddie first.’
‘The ex?’
‘Yes. Him.’ I immediately want to rewind. Abort.
But it’s too late to try and hide my crazy life from Roman. I very much dragged him into it, and I can’t go back now.
‘We dated. Very briefly. In university.’
‘Did he also get the maniac treatment? Did ya tie him to your radiator and make him regret his life choices?’ Roman’s voice may have been filled with sarcasm, but when I glanced over at him, he looked paler than usual.’
His jokes aren’t going to make what I’m about to say land any easier.
‘Because he kind of murdered one of my professors.’
Roman blinks. ‘He—’
‘Killed him,’ I say quickly. Ripping off the band-aid. ‘Pushed him right down a stairwell in front of me.’
‘Why?’ Roman’s voice sounded altogether mouse-like as it hit several octaves higher than usual.
I swallow hard.
‘Because the professor looked at me for too long.’
There it is. The awful reality of my world. Well, the world I’m trying to escape.
‘Looked at you,’ Roman repeats.
‘For too long,’ I add, not that it makes it any better.
His silence is suffocating. I immediately want to somehow explain it better. Not that there is any way I can reasonably explain Eddie. He’s a fucking nutjob.
‘He said it was his animalistic instincts,’ I babble.
‘That men like that needed to know which women were acceptable to letch on, and which weren’t.
That he couldn’t help himself. Which was obviously a massive fucking red flag.
Even if the professor had been into me—which he absolutely wasn’t—you can’t just go deleting him. ’
Roman stares out at the road, jaw tight.
‘And you dated him,’ he says.
‘I didn’t know! Not at first. We met at university, and he was charming and attentive. Thoughtful. It felt romantic at first until it was all too much. Like being toyed with by a predator before it eats you.’
‘And when you found out?’
‘I ended it. Then he told me that I’d always be his. Which is a lot for any relationship, far less one that killed someone in front of you. For you. ’
‘And you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend while that maniac is around?’
‘Kind of.’ I give a little shrug.
Roman exhales. ‘And your dad wants you to marry him?’
‘He’d like me to, but really, what he wants is for me to stop pretending I’m normal and start pulling my weight in the family business.’
‘Pulling your weight how?’ Roman focuses on the passing trees, while I die a little inside with each sentence.
I hesitate. My hands are clammy on the wheel.
‘By killing people,’ I whisper through gritted teeth. ‘For money. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’m just really very bad at it.’
Roman turns to me fully. ‘You’ve tried to kill people? Your father wants you to become a contract killer?’
He looks bloody terrified. Which is fair. I suppose. Not every day you get coerced into fake dating a killer. A failed killer.
‘Yes. But as of yet, I haven’t been successful.’
‘Do you want to be successful at it?’
‘Fuck no. I want to do my shitty little office job, and maybe get a dog. I can barely even look at my own blood without getting dizzy.’ I chew on my lower lip as he leans back against the headrest, his hands flexing beneath the zip ties.
‘So you kidnapped me, knowing it would be dangerous? Your whole family, and their friends, just murder people for a paycheck.’
‘When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound great.’
‘You are taking me to a house full of psychos. What if Eddie kills me?’
Panic flares hot. ‘He probably won’t.’
‘Probably?’
‘As long as my family likes you, you’ll be fine. They’re not going to let Eddie ruin the wedding. We try not to mix blood with pleasure. As much as possible.’
He gives me a look. ‘That is the least reassuring sentence I’ve ever heard.’
‘I know. I’m sorry for dragging you into all this. Really.’ My breath stutters as I hit the indicator and turn onto yet another tree-lined lane. One I’ve driven all too many times.
I cringe, and more words tumble out because panic makes me word vomit like a beast. ‘I’m really sorry about earlier, too.
The lap thing. And you’re hearing me on the other side of the wall.
And the sedatives. And cameras. I know I haven’t explained that.
I swear I’m not obsessed with you. I mean, obviously my behaviour suggests otherwise, but I’m not usually like this. ’
‘You did moan my name,’ he says mildly.
‘Don’t remind me,’ I groan. ‘It was a glitch. I know I’m pathetic, I don’t need any more reminders. My family have made that clear enough my whole life.’
Quietness returns as we get closer to my childhood home. It’s like the darkness seeps from beneath the wrought iron fences, growing inky thick with every metre closer I get. Stress bubbles up, and I’m beginning to regret my stupid, brash decisions.
‘I’ll do my best to play along. For the wedding. But you are going to owe me so fucking big.’
Relief hits me so hard my eyes sting.
‘But, if anything happens to me… You look after my gran. You make sure she’s okay, and you make sure that anyone who hurts me pays. If I die here, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you for the rest of your god damned life.’
‘I promise it’ll all be okay.’
‘Funnily enough, I don’t believe a word of your promises.’
Glancing over at Roman, I inhale deeply. ‘Murderers we may be—well, not me personally—but we adhere to a strict code of conduct. We stick to our promises. The Hamilton word is worth its weight in gold.’
‘You know what they say about Judas and that bag of coins…’ Roman’s brow creases as he takes in the large gates we approach, inscribed with a dramatic H symbol.
The car slows as the iron gates loom. My stomach drops into my ass, and sweat gathers at the back of my neck.
This is it.
No more driving.
No more time to explain.
‘Right,’ I say, trying to inject some sort of levity into my voice. ‘Welcome to the family home.’
Without needing to announce my arrival, the gates begin to open.