Chapter 4
brENNA
This truly must be what the first layer of hell is like.
In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve been ripped from the one home that I’ve always known, married to a man who stares at me like he’s about to rip my face off, and flown to a country where I don’t know anyone.
To top it off, the mansion that I’ve heard so much about turns out to be nothing more than a dark and dreary, broken-down shell of a home.
He spoke a few times while we were on the plane, mostly just to tell me what I’m not allowed to do when I got here. Rules upon rules.
I wonder if anyone told him I don’t do well with rules.
One of the rules that seemed to stick out more than the others was the fact that there was a whole section of the mansion that I’m simply not allowed to go in.
I wanted to ask him why I wasn’t allowed to be in that area, but that would’ve meant that I would have to talk to him.
I’m not about to do that. We can live our entire marriage in silence for all I care.
The issue with that is it doesn’t seem that my silent treatment is having the effect I’m hoping for. He doesn’t want to talk to me any more than I want to talk to him.
When we got to the mansion, I only had the one duffel bag that my father must have given to Cormac after the ceremony at some point.
Cormac walked me down a long hall, the only light coming from the many different candelabras that decorated the place.
He opened the door to a room and made a note to let me know that this space was my responsibility.
If I wanted it clean, I’d have to clean it.
If I destroyed it, that’s how it would stay.
He’s speaking to me as if I’m a toddler and not a grown woman.
I keep my back to him as he makes his way to the door that leads out of my room. He stops just at the doorway and speaks over his shoulder.
“You are not permitted to leave this house. If you do, you will be hunted down. There is nowhere for you to run and no one here who will help you. Don’t make this any harder for yourself than it has to be.”
I spin on my heels just as he walks out and closes the door behind himself.
As if I could make this any harder than it already is. I’m already a prisoner in this marriage; now he wants to make me a prisoner in this house.
All the emotions of the day come to a head, and I scream at the top of my lungs at no one in particular. There is a strong draft that washes over me, and I can feel the chill all the way in my bones.
I drop myself onto the large bed, and suddenly all my anger turns into unbearable despair. Sobbing uncontrollably, I bury my face in the pillows and let the tears fall. By the time I’m finished, the pillowcase is soaked, and I’m more tired than I’ve ever been.
I turn to my back and look up at the ceiling. The draft slams into me once again, but when I look to the windows, I realize none of them are open. This control freak probably had them bolted down.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I walk over to the nearest window and test it.
I nearly fall back in shock when, instead of being tough, the window slides open without the least bit of effort.
Fresh air smacks me in the face, and I squint my eyes to see in the darkness. The back of the mansion is lined with mostly dead flower hedges.
I’m grateful it’s not made into some sort of maze.
This is my shot. Before I even have a chance to think too much about it, I’m sliding my feet through the opening and letting my legs dangle against the outside of the house.
For a brief second, I think about all the security guards that I saw patrolling outside the gates of the mansion. It surprised me that there were none in the actual house when we arrived. It’s definitely different than what I’m used to with my father.
My father had a security guard at his side at all times. This betters my chances, though.
It’s true that I don’t know anyone in this country, but I’m sure if I am able to make it off the property, I can get one of them to help me. Someone has to help me.
I let go of the lip of the windowsill and drop the few feet down to the ground. I’m almost too grateful that I packed my combat boots in the one bag I was allowed to bring.
That is until I take a step away and realize these same boots leave a clear imprint in the dirt. He’ll be able to track me much easier like this.
I don’t have time to think about that right now. All I can focus on is getting away from here.
The more the cool night air kisses my skin, the more hope begins to blossom in my chest. So far, I don’t hear any alarms or see any guards coming in my direction. Could it really be this easy?
I run a few steps toward the poorly taken care of hedges and sneak a glance back up at the mansion I just escaped from.
My eyes settle on the very top window. There’s someone standing there.
I think. I can’t tell. It’s almost as if whoever is there is see-through.
My overly tired mind starts to think maybe it’s a ghost, but I know better than that.
There are no such things as ghosts, but Cormac is real.
He’s the monster that I have to get away from.
I take off once again, this time just trying to make it to the line of trees that are on the far edge of the property when I hear what can only be considered to be one of my worst nightmares.
Deep, feral barking.
Dogs are running behind me, their strides much faster than my own.
Panic surges through my muscles, infusing the fibers with adrenaline.
I pick up speed, but so do the dogs. When I turn back again, they’ve nearly cut the space between me and them in half.
It’s hard to see them in the darkness, but the closer they get to me, the easier it is for me to make out their features.
All of them are dark, either brown or black.
I turn and push harder to get into the trees. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get there, but for right now, it seems like the only step in my plan.
I make it just to the edge of the tree line and turn once again to see how close the dogs are.
I can make them out clearly—the spit dripping from their mouths as they bark and growl at me, the muscles in their powerful bodies contracting and releasing as they continue to chase me down.
These aren’t little dogs either. There are two Rottweilers and one Doberman.
Massive dogs that seem like they are only here for one thing, to please their master.
Right now, I’m the one who went against their master’s word. He told me not to leave the house or I’d be hunted down. I didn’t think he meant it so literally.
I focus on what’s in front of me; the last thing I want to do right now is fall or trip over a branch.
Instead of getting darker, I can see a small light coming from somewhere in the woods.
I make a beeline straight for it. It’s not large enough to be a house or anything like that.
Maybe it’s another human being. Someone who can save me from the beasts ready to rip me to shreds.
I push through the low-hanging branches and realize that I’m in a small open area. Right in the center is a large stone marker. A grave.
Right on top is a small tea light. It shouldn’t have been bright enough for me to see through the trees, but maybe being so focused allowed me to pinpoint it.
It’s not the saving grace I thought it would be.
I sprint as fast as I can in that direction but slow for a second when I don’t feel the pending doom so close behind me.
I turn and realize the dogs have stopped right at the edge of the opening as if they were trained not to come on this land. As if something were stopping them.
That doesn’t mean they have forgotten about me, though. They stay to the tree edges but have now begun to circle me. Every step I take in one of their directions starts another round of loud barking and growling. I have no way out.
This could’ve been my one and only attempt to get out of here, and it’s clear that I’ve failed. I’m stuck, and my only hope is the monster I just tried to get away from.
CORMAC
I felt the change before the guards could ring me in the study to tell me what was going on.
“What is it?” I bark into the phone.
“Sir, you told us to let you know if Ms. Doyle did anything that could harm her person. Well—”
I cut Maxim, my head of security, off before he can continue. “She’s Mrs. O’Sullivan now. I did let you know we were married, did I not?” There’s no need to be short with him, but I’m in a fucked-up mood right now.
In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve had to give up my freedom, all so my father could make a show to the other heads of families. There is no real need for me to have married Brenna. We could have made sure the alliance between the Doyle family and us was strong another way.
It’s too late to complain about it now. There’s nothing I can do about it. I have a wife whether I want one or not.
“Yes, sir, excuse me. Well, Mrs. O’Sullivan has taken it upon herself to run away from the house in the dead of night. Do you want us to follow after her and bring her back?”
Just as I’m about to answer him, I can hear my loyal dogs barking. They didn’t need to be given instruction. They simply acted.
I can’t help the smile that tries to stretch up my face. I’m not worried about them mauling her. The three of them are well trained, and they will not attack unless I give the order.
No, they will only chase her down and keep her cornered until I can come to relieve them.
“No, I’ll take care of her myself. What you need to do is find out how she managed to get out of here so easily and rectify that.” I hang up the phone on Maxim. I’ve got a woman to go save.
Not that I’m a white knight; instead, I’m more like the demon keeping my subjects in line.
I don’t rush. I grab my coat and slip it on before I make my way out of the house, walking with the same intensity I’d use if I was only taking a stroll.