9. Angie #2
His grip on my hair loosens. “I was not engaged when we slept together. I didn’t even know her at that time.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. We had sex like almost two months ago.”
“There’s a lot about my life you don’t know, angel, and I don’t have time to explain everything.”
“You can’t blow past this.”
“My relationship with Sinead was platonic. We were arranged to marry each other by our families. She won’t miss me and I won’t miss her.”
“Arranged? Seriously?”
“I told you, there’s a lot you don’t understand.”
Pieces begin to drift together. His low, menacing tone coalesces.
He’s in trouble.
“Look, I don’t know what’s happening right now… I don’t know what your deal is with this Sinead woman… but I’m not going to break up your marriage. No way.”
“Angel, darling, I’m trying to do this the right way.
I’m trying to be patient. But people are going to start looking for me soon, and they can’t find me until after you’ve said your vows and Father Charles has made it official.
Otherwise, they’ll make sure we never see each other again, and I’m wed to that other woman. ”
“This is crazy.”
“I know. I’ll make it make sense soon. What you need to know is you are going to marry me, right here, right now, whether you want to or not. You can do it easy or you can do it hard. Father Charles is prepared for both options.”
“A priest is going to let you force me to marry you? That’s not possible.”
“It’s real. It’s happening. I don’t want to make you, but I will. This is for your protection, angel. This is for our child’s safety.”
“You keep saying that, but I don’t understand.”
He releases my hair reluctantly and puts his hands on my thighs. I hold his eyes, terrified. He’s so close I could kiss him. His breath is warm and his body is enormous. We’re at equal level, and I’m so afraid, but no part of me thinks he’s going to hurt me.
“Sinead’s family. They won’t allow a child of my blood to survive for long, not unless it’s also Sinead’s child.”
I stiffen and shove his hands off me. “Someone’s going to hurt our baby?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, angel. I don’t want to scare you, but unless I’m married to you, they will make sure I go through with my arrangement, and they will ensure only my children with Sinead can act as my rightful heirs.”
“Which means they’ll kill my baby,” I whisper, whole body ringing with the absurdity of this situation. “You’re talking like… like… you’re some ancient Roman lord or something.”
“That’s exactly what I am.” He rocks back and stands.
Connor looks like a prince in that suit. He looks like a god. His eyes are sharp and gorgeous, his lips full and soft and pressed into a hard line, his muscular body poised and graceful. He could break me in half, there’s so much power in his massive shoulders.
I want to scream… I want to kiss him… I want to get the hell out of here.
“Marry me, Angelina,” he says, holding out a hand. “I’ll protect you. I’ll keep our child safe, no matter what it costs, this I swear.”
I don’t believe him. His story is too bizarre and fantastic. But why would he make it up like this? Why would he be so desperate right now if it weren’t true?
“I can’t,” I choke out, fighting tears, unable to believe any of this is real.
In my world, life makes sense. There are rules. There are ways of doing things.
And this?
This is pure fiction.
Connor lets out a long breath. “The hard way it is.”
He moves fast. I try to jerk back but he grabs one arm, turns his hips for leverage, and hoists me up. I scream, kicking my legs and thrashing my arms, but he pins me and holds me over his shoulder like a caveman claiming his prize.
“Put me down! Connor, what the fuck?—!”
He kicks open my bedroom door and carries me into the living room. My mom’s standing in the kitchen, frozen in shock, as I’m thrown mercilessly onto the couch. I land heavily with a gasp, try to leap up, but Connor pushes me down again, pinning me with a hand against my chest.
“Father Charles. We should begin.”
“What the hell are you doing?!” Mom comes rushing out of the kitchen. “This is fucking crazy. I’m calling the cops.”
Connor reaches into his jacket. This time, he really does draw a gun.
I gasp, covering my mouth, as he turns and aims it at my mother’s head.
“Father Charles,” Connor repeats calmly. “The ceremony, please.”
“What… the fuck…” Mom stands very still, going pale. She looks ten years older and so frail. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t hurt me.”
Hurt you?! What about me?!
Father Charles flips open his Bible and clears his throat. “I apologize for this, I truly do, but Connor here impressed upon me the nature of the situation?—“
“Father, I’m holding my future mother-in-law at gunpoint. Let’s skip the preamble.”
Father Charles turns to me and tries a nervous smile.
“Yes, ah, yes, of course. Ahem, well, let’s skip past this…
and this…” He flips a few pages. “Yes, here we are. In the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Ah, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?”
“We have,” Connor says.
“Fuck no! This is insane!”
“Very good.” Father Charles looks back down at the Bible as if I didn’t speak. “Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”
“I will.” Connor sounds like he truly means it. “Angie, say it.”
“Hell no, please, don’t do this!” I look at my mom in a desperate panic, but she’s pinned to the spot, not moving a muscle. “We can’t seriously be doing this?”
“Wonderful.” Father Charles licks his finger and turns a page. “Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his Church.”
Connor switches the gun to his left hand and drops to his knees in front of me. He takes my right in his, gripping tightly, the pistol still pointed at my mother. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, and my heart goes wild, racing a mad rhythm against my ribs.
This can’t be happening. I can’t find this exciting. There’s no way this is legal.
“I, Connor Maguire, take you, Angelina Bellandi, to be my wife.
I promise to be faithful to you—“ He kisses my wrist. “—in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health—“ He kisses each tip of my fingers.
“—to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. I swear it on my heart and by my soul, to death.”
Silence falls. Mom’s mouth moves like a fish. Father Charles watches me expectantly.
The world flattens to Connor. His words ring in my ears, but not only what he said, but how he said them, like each was a prayer, a divine pact written in blood, and this all becomes real, all of it.
The gun, the marriage, the baby, the threats, the fear.
It’s real, it’s happening, and I’m going to be his wife. There’s no stopping him.
“We can skip—“ Father Charles starts.
But I cut him off. “I promise to be your wife,” I whisper, choking out the words. “If you protect our baby to your dying breath.”
“I will,” he says.
And I believe him. “Father. Finish the ceremony.”
Father Charles clears his throat. “Not the traditional vows, but good enough. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder. Ring now, please.”
Connor cuts his eyes to my mom. “You move and you bleed.” He places the gun on the floor and takes out the ring again. I watch, horrified, fascinated, as he puts it on my finger. It’s slightly too big, but it fits close enough. “Beautiful,” he says, kissing the stone one more time.
“I now declare you husband and wife.” Father Charles snaps the book shut. “Ego coniungo vos in matrimonium, in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”
Connor wraps me in his arms and kisses me.
I melt against his mouth. His taste is sin, honey, death, and hellfire. It’s the end of me and I know it. Whatever I’ve done, whatever I’ve gotten myself into, there’s no way out, there’s no escape, not from a man like Connor.
I break as I kiss him, the sweetest kiss I’ve ever tasted, both poison and cure at once, and I know my life is over, even as it’s just beginning.