Chapter 23 #2
My fuckboy-turned-boyfriend-turned-fiance stares at the dash, like he doesn’t trust himself to look me in the face.
“Marry Alexei,” he blurts before I get a chance to say anything, his words as conflicted as my heart.
Widow knows what has to happen, even if he doesn’t like it.
Bohnes is right: how do we ensure that Alexei can’t screw us out of his money once we help him get it back?
He’s also right about the mob respecting me as his wife in a way they never will if I’m ‘just’ a girlfriend. Last part was true, too.
I like him.
Alexei’s a gentleman, but he’s also a badass. He has a backbone and a pretty smile. He’s a germaphobe who melts when I get him dirty. I never wanted to get married, but I’ll do it for all the wrong reasons.
Where does that leave Widow? Bohnes is a Nightmare and Ash is my sweet, soft thing.
Widow scoffs under his breath, curving his huge hands around his knees. Is he going to get even bigger as we get older? The thought hits me first and the meaning sinks in after. We’re in this together. Decisions have been finalized. Threats have been made. Promises will be kept.
“You’re the perfect Prescott trap,” I tell him with a sigh.
I rest my arm on the center console, our skin touching.
“The hot, damaged, lonely boy. I can fix him, Ma. Swear to God, I can fix him.” Now I’m the one offering up a laugh that can only be compared to a cactus.
Spiny and dry. Unforgiving. Able to survive a drought.
“Me?” he asks, incredulous. I lift my gaze up to find him staring at me. His eyes are stolen treasure. I want to plunder them. That’s one of his problems, that he’s too pretty. He hates people and doesn’t want to be looked at, but goddamn, he’s handsome. “You are the Prescott trap, Scarlett Force.”
My mouth drops open, but I can’t seem to summon a defense. Yet. Widow takes that as an invitation to keep going. He opens the car door, letting the cold air rush in. Stands up and paces rapidly in front of the Pantera. Frantic. Like a trapped animal.
I climb out, too, letting him work off that frantic, angry energy.
I love the way his muscles ripple as he moves. Part of me knows that if he came at me, I’d probably lose. One-on-one, in a fair fight, I can’t defend myself against him. Just letting him this close to me is a sign of trust. I prefer to keep most people at gun’s length.
“I want you so bad,” he growls at me, and I shiver. My fingers dig into the fabric of my sweatpants. Me and this poor boy, right here with a luxe future sprawled out ahead of us like a dream. “I want you so bad. It’s hard for me to think properly. I’m being mind-controlled by my dick.”
He lets his head fall back and closes his eyes, breath frosting in the December air.
“I am not a fucking Prescott trap.” Out of everything, this is the thing that really pisses me off.
I start shaking, desperate to keep that monster locked inside my too-tight skin.
Keep that anger tamped down. Widow is not the one I want to unleash it on.
That’s reserved for the mayor. And Chet Archer.
Anyone and everyone that’s involved in this shit.
“Oh yeah?” Widow gets right up in my space and bends down, his face far too close to mine. He’s a cocky bastard tonight, angry but holding himself in check. The only reason he would ever be this rational after thinking I might marry another guy is because he’s spotted something he wants better.
Something worse.
I brace myself.
“Yeah.” I cross my arms, breathing hard.
Maybe I’m annoyed because I know that…he’s right.
In a way, he’s right. “I’m getting out of here, Widow.
I’m leaving Prescott behind and crush, crush, crushing it beneath my heels.
” I lean even closer, my mouth brushing his.
“I’ll be a billionaire’s wife, but that’s just a bonus.
I am a rich man—or I will be. I’ve already won.
I’ll get seen by the right people. Make the right connections. My name will be in lights.”
I won’t let this go, this idea of escaping Prescott.
But I’ll save this neighborhood first and pass what’s leftover to the next unlucky bitch.
Stacey Langford, probably. Maybe someone else.
A vow forms in my heart, like a sword stabbed right through the tender, aching flesh inside of me.
I keep denying its existence, but it’s there.
It’s there in the way I castrate rapists and follow my girls home after dark, just to make sure they’re safe.
It’s in my desperation to see my grandmother rest and retire in a big ol’ house.
It’s in every breath I take that says I’m bigger than this place.
I will never deny a reasonable request from a Prescott girl, I promise that. If I can help them, I will.
Widow lifts both brows at me, angry and feral and beautiful.
“I’m getting out of here,” I repeat, but I know I can’t do it alone. I cannot escape this mess by myself. Not anymore. I need something solid, sure, and true. A lot of other people are going to have to take big risks to get me where I want to go.
“Sure.” Widow moves away, arms crossed, pacing a tight circle around me.
He’s reading me like a book because, really, he’s the male version of me.
Bohnes is more organized. Alexei knows when to hold back.
Ash is…Ash. But Widow and me? “By taking on a job that’s so big you need help.
My help. And I want to give it to you. I always have. That’s why I’m here.”
“And you thought your reward was going to be becoming my husband?” I swipe my arm across my lips, like I’m trying to brush away a smile.
Cobwebs of it cling to my mouth, like the tattoo on the back of Widow’s hand.
Like his name, a spider who’s eaten its mate.
I can’t smile. If I do, I’ll start laughing and then I’ll go insane.
“Bohnes is right about Alexei. He wouldn’t have suggested it if he wasn’t sure. I trust his judgment.”
“That easy, is it?” Widow tsks his tongue, coming way too close behind me and resting his palms against the wings of my pelvis. “You know I’m going to demand something else, don’t you?”
I’m breathing hard.
I do know.
I’m going to agree to it because I’d be an idiot not to.
Nothing is free in Prescott, remember? I want Widow to be loyal to me and only me while I fuck three other guys. He wants something, too. This is reality, and we’re all human.
“Tell me. Don’t drag it out like a fuckhead,” I growl back at him, turning a sneer over my left shoulder.
“Perfect. Prescott. Trap.” He taps his fingers against my hips, and I shiver.
That small touch alone tells me how hard it is for him to hold back.
He wants to take me right now, but he won’t do it until I hear him out.
“How many guys around here screw up their life by following their dick? In another life, I get you pregnant. We get stuck here in this hell together. Living in a trailer. Raising a family.”
I’m not amused. He isn’t wrong, but still.
“Then will you stop asking to get me fucking pregnant? It’s stupid as hell. Glad you see that now.” I start to turn around but Widow clamps his hands down, taking hold of me with his immense strength. I am locked in place, a spider in a web. The silk strands of my heart are tangled with his.
I can still kill him though, if I want. I can eat him like a black widow woman. I’d rather hold him. I’d rather he holds me. All of it.
“When you turn twenty-five, I get three weeks a year where I get to fuck you without birth control. However that needs to happen, three weeks where I can get you pregnant.” He leans down and nips my ear before whispering, “I get to pick the time of the month, too. I only need one kid. First one you have.” He stops for a second, thinking it over.
“Unless they get kids, then I always want to be the one with the most.”
“You’re fucking with me right now, aren’t you?” I ask him, turning an incredulous look his way. “You’re nuts.”
“You’re marrying Alexei Grove, the son of a Russian mobster.
The mayor wants us dead. The mayor’s son put a gun to my head the other day, and I thought he was going to pull the trigger.
Scarlett, we might not make it to the end of the year let alone to age twenty-five.
This is all I’m asking. You’re gonna turn me into a fucking cuck bitch, and I just have to stand here and smile while I kill cops for you? Come on. Be reasonable.”
“If I say no, you’ll walk away?” I frown as I say it, trying to figure out how I feel about that.
“What do you think?” he asks, but I don’t want him to answer. I think he’d stay. I’m worried he wouldn’t. I…it doesn’t matter.
We could all die anyway. He’s right about that.
“Okay.” I give my word, and I know that I’d rather die than break it. Truth is currency in Prescott. Without it, all we have are lies. This whole city is built on lies, both the poor neighborhood I hail from and the rich one we’re going to be moving into. I won’t lie to him and he knows it. “Fine.”
“I’ve read a lot of romance novels, Scarlett.
I know all about ovulation. I’ll pick the right days.
” He smiles tightly at me as I turn around, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes.
Warmth. He’s teasing me, but it’s definitely got a playful quality to it.
I thought he’d be furious, and maybe he is, but he’s coping well.
Cause the sneaky bastard wants a baby. I could gag. Childbirth freaks me out worse than murder. I’d rather dismember a pedo than pop a brat out of my pussy. Aww, man. This blows so hard.
“You don’t have to be so nice about this. I know you’re fucking pissed.” I try to deliver it deadpan, but my voice cracks and Widow frowns. He grabs my shoulders and leans down to look at me.