CHAPTER 6
ROOK
“Did that really just happen?”
I ask the question aloud as I continue to stare at the spot where Meadow was until she drove away in her car. Even though I knew it was the right choice, I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted her to stay.
The way she looked up at me, like she was on the edge of panic, is the only reason I let her drive away. She promised that she’s not going to back out of marrying me. Those words echo around me as I stare at the ghost of where she just was.
I’m going to marry Meadow.
It’s almost too good to be true.
After running my fingers through my hair, I sigh and mutter to myself, “This could end really badly.”
Or it could not end at all.
The thought settles around me, and it feels like something inside me slides into place.
I’m not going to allow this marriage to end. This is a chance, slim and shaky as it may be. I’ll only get one shot at this and the woman I’ve been wanting will be my wife. If I can get her to fall for me, I’ll be able to keep her.
I desperately want to keep her.
My gaze moves over the farm. I’d love to give her more than a city hall ceremony. But I don’t want to wait to marry her because there’s no way I’m willing to risk her changing her mind.
No fucking way.
A city hall ceremony might be enough, even if I want to give her more. I already know her best friends will be there. Maybe they’d help me put a party together. Being celebrated is the important part. Isn’t it?
I wonder if they’d know what her dream wedding dress is. She should be able to wear it, no matter where she’s getting married. Even if she thinks all she’s doing is a good deed.
How the hell am I going to get her to fall in love with me?
Then I remember the way she looked at me and the way she blushed. Maybe there’s something already there and I was willing myself to be blind to it because it was easier.
Not that it matters.
“She’s going to be my wife,” I whisper the words.
Hearing them makes it real in a way I’m afraid to allow. I want this and I’m going to make it work. Somehow.
Just as I’m about to stand from where I had sunk down onto the top step of the porch, I notice a slick sports car turn into the drive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on edge.
I have a feeling I know who it is. I would almost place a bet on it.
After standing up, I start down the steps because I’m not letting him closer than I have to. I wouldn’t put it past him to sit his ass somewhere and claim squatter’s rights or some shit.
When the car stops, my father steps out like he’s from on-high and finally arrived down here amongst the mere mortals. I want to deck him. My fist clenches at my side, but when he smirks, I open my hand and shake it out.
Winding up in jail is not on my to-do list. Especially now.
“Good to see you again so soon, Rook,” he says my name like it’s a joke, like he wasn’t the one who named me.
“I can’t say I’m thrilled to see you again. I could have gone the rest of my life,” I sneer the words.
He puts on a hurt expression, but it’s fake. It’s all fake. He’s perfected being a grifter.
There’s no way in hell I’ll allow him to get his hands on this farm.
“There’s no reason for you take such a tone with me,” he feigns offense, but I can see the gleam in his eye.
“You never know,” his voice is light and dread fills my gut, “I might be the owner of this farm in a year. I wonder if it would include your little business,” he muses and goes to the extent of tapping his chin.
As if this isn’t my life, and it is simply a stage for his next exceptional performance.
My stomach roils and I have to swallow hard to keep the bile at bay. The very last thing that should happen is this man getting his hands on my family’s land. He never valued it in any way, beyond selling it. I’m sure he’s fantasized about it over the years.
When I was old enough to see him for who he really is, I noticed the way he looked around like he was just waiting for the chance to cut it up. Hunger; the hunger and greed on his face is always right there on the surface.
It’s the same look he has on his face right now.
“I’ll never let you have this farm,” I sneer the words, the certainty in them making me step closer to him. Not because I want to be, but because he needs to know that I’ll protect this land and everything my family has built. I’ll do anything to ensure he never gets his slick fingers on it.
“Never say never,” he taunts. “When I went to the lawyer to find out why he didn’t contact me for the reading of the will, he told me I’m not explicitly mentioned.”
He scoffs as if the whole thing is a personal affront to him. I cross my arms across my chest and stand a little taller. Knowing he wasn’t mentioned, and nothing was given to him outright, must have stung.
While he might have recovered from it, I have no doubt it’s what has driven him to come here. He wants a win, and if he can’t get it from the lawyer then he’ll try and carve it out of me, even better if he can twist the knife both ways while doing it.
“If I wasn’t mentioned,” his gaze sweeps over me and it’s clear from the look on his face, he finds me wanting, “that means you must have come into a lot of cash.”
“I’m not giving you a fucking cent,” I growl the words, my voice dropping to a deadly octave.
One side of my father’s mouth tips up, as if I’ve just given him more than he was expecting.
I don’t give a fuck if he thinks I just confirmed his worst fears—that I have all the personal accounts and anything non-business related that was left behind.
Who fucking cares? I won’t hand the money over. He’d have to kill me.
And my father might be a lot of things, but he’s not a murderer. I don’t think.
“Maybe,” he shrugs his hands going up in faux surrender, “maybe not. What I know for sure is that you’re not married.
” He barks out a laugh, while I keep my expression fixed in a neutral mask.
“I never knew Dad had such a sense of humor. He knew you weren’t married and yet he put that clause in the will. ”
His laugh is damn close to a movie villain laugh. It’s ridiculous.
If he thinks he’s making me fear him, he’s got it fucking backwards. Watching him scramble for something, anything, to hold onto and hold over my head is pathetic. I almost can’t believe how I used to pin my hopes and my need for love on this man, just because I thought I was supposed to need him.
But I never did.
I doubt that he knows how to love anyone other than himself, anyway.
“I knew your stepmother would come in handy one of these days,” he says the words like he’s the one being generous by saying them. He’s not.
The only thing I can do is shake my head in admonishment. He’s a joke.
“I wonder if it’ll be better for me to sell it off at one time or sell it in pieces,” he muses while turning toward the expanse of land that has been in my family’s name for generations.
“You won’t be touching a fucking thing around here, including the land,” the words are cutting, my tone steel.
“Only if you find someone to marry you. So, what are you going to do, huh? Ask some random bitch to marry you? After you’ve come into whatever money that old fucking geezer left you?
” He snorts out a laugh and looks at me with pity.
“Talk about stupid. They’d just take you for all you’re worth, including the farm, when divorcing your ass. ”
“Why do you assume there would be a divorce?” I hate myself for asking, but this conversation reminds me of driving past a bad accident. You can’t help but look.
Maybe it’s better that you do because someone should bear witness.
Someone needs to see, to know, to feel it, to wince, at the aftermath.
“Bitches aren’t good for much,” his tone takes on a certain note to it, like he’s bequeathing me with fatherly knowledge I should have been privy to for years now.
“They’re good for fucking with your life and giving you a fucking headache.
They’re good for taking you to the cleaners when they can’t just fall in line and be a good wife,” his lip curls with his words.
Then he smirks and I clench my jaw. “And they’re good for the gash between their thighs. ”
He claps his hands like the action is a bow and he’s just performed an entertaining trick. I’m far from fucking entertained.
“If you can find a wife, soon,” he arches his eyebrow in challenge and then waves his hand dismissively like the concept is ridiculous, “then you’ll find out soon enough. Wouldn’t want to ruin all the fun.”
“You’re a fucking disgrace,” I grit out the words through my clenched teeth. “You need to turn right fucking around and take your piece of shit car back down the drive.”
He scoffs and his mask slips for a split second. The insult landed and he’s actually affronted. About his car. Of all things.
What a fucking douche bag.
I can’t believe this man made me. Honestly, I thank my lucky fucking stars that he brought me here and I had the chance to learn how to be a man from a real one. My grandpa was a lot of things. He taught me integrity, honesty, loyalty, and the value of hard work.
Then there’s what my grandma taught me.
My throat gets tight when thinking about her and I push it away. Now is not the time.
Not with my sperm donor on my family’s land. My shoulders are so tense that a headache is starting to form at the base of my skull. The pounding isn’t distracting; it helps me focus.
On getting him off the land.
“You know,” he starts his bullshit again, his voice turning magnanimous, “you might as well give up. You’ve never been worth much, Rook, and this will only make it more obvious, because you’re going to fail.
There’s no way anyone will marry you; it’ll be even more pathetic for you to have a whole year to get one cunt to marry you, and still not be able to make it happen. ”
Everything in me screams to step closer to him and punch him. But I think it’s exactly what he wants me to do. Then he’ll call the police and get my ass thrown in jail.
Now isn’t the time.
“You know,” he looks around again, the change in his tone and focus giving me whiplash, “maybe it would be better to keep it all together. I know a few people who could use this kind of land.” He glances at me, his grin turning sinister in a way that makes my blood run cold.
“But if they want it, they won’t take no for an answer.
They might not even want to wait a year for access. ”
He rubs his hands together, his words feel like barbs against my skin. The threat is clear to hear, but I doubt he knows anyone worth actually being afraid of. The man is a rat dressed up as a human. If he has some sort of connections, they have to know what kind of man he is. Right?
Would criminals even give a fuck?
“I guess we’ll just have to see how it all shakes out, then,” I force the words past my lips and keep the fact that Meadow is going to be my wife tucked close to my heart. He doesn’t need to know.
When he finds out, he’s going to lose his fucking mind.
“Get out of here,” I tell him and make a shooing motion with my hand.
He holds his own up in surrender, as if he’s just some misunderstood rake. “Okay, okay,” he demurs, “I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
With a wink, he turns back toward the most ridiculous car the man could have, and I watch as he practically folds himself inside of it before gunning down the drive.
I’m left standing there and staring after him, but this time there’s no warmth in my chest like there was after watching Meadow drive away.
I need to marry her fast and keep it as quiet as possible. Which means I’ll have to take her up on the whole courthouse thing. If it’s too big, then he’ll get wind of it far too quickly.
I’ll just have to make it up to her later. After the farm is ours and I’ve gotten her to fall in love with me.
“Fuck,” I mutter while running my fingers through my hair and turning toward the farmhouse door.
I’m really fucking glad Meadow left the bottle of vodka behind. I could use a drink.