Chapter 6 #2
“I haven’t slept, and I haven’t eaten because you locked me in here all night long on account of you not knowin’ me and therefore not trustin’ me, and your solution to that problem is to marry me?”
“Rings are in my pocket,” he drawled. He then pointed his chin toward the bed. “Handled the food. Sleep comes later. So, you gonna eat or what?”
I ignored his question. “What if I say no?”
“Then I wasted a trip to Bolt & Bruizer and I guess you’ll go hungry.”
My brain took a detour as I registered the name of the breakfast spot.
It was a bakery and barkery, with baked goods for both humans and their dogs.
Given I hadn’t seen Pistol without Reaper nearby, it shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew such a place existed—but it was still hard for me to imagine the biker in front of me in a place like that.
“Wait. What? No,” I stammered shaking my head clear as I tried to refocus. “What if I say no to marrying you?”
“You won’t.”
I knit my eyebrows together. “But what if I do?”
He took a step toward me then, moving so fast my breath caught when I felt his fingers grip the back of my neck and squeeze. He wasn’t hurting me, but I still stood frozen as he got in my face.
“You won’t say no cause I’m not askin’,” he growled. “Clue in, babe—this is your only way out of the clubhouse.”
With him so close to me, my brain was doing that thing again. My memories of the man both sexy and intimidating were wrestling for dominance. The scent of him filling my nose meant sexy was winning.
“This is crazy. We barely know each other. You don’t even remember my—”
“Said I wouldn’t kill you, and I’m a man of my word—but you fight me on this, and you might cease to exist outside of these four walls.
The way I understand it, you’re unattached.
At least you were, until you saw what you saw.
Now, you’re mine.” He squeezed my neck and muttered, “Lyla—we’re done talkin’.
You want that sandwich, best bring it with you. Let’s go.”
He released me and turned for the door.
I stood frozen beside the bed, taken aback that he actually did know my name.
‘…you’re unattached. At least you were…’
It was stupid. It was so totally stupid, but something he said tripped me up.
‘Now, you’re mine.’
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
What he was proposing was insane, there was no doubt about that. But I watched him kill someone. Was I going to rat him out to the Copper Kings? No. Did I have any intention of reporting his crime to the police? Hell, no. But somewhere in his crazy logic, did he have a point?
If things went sideways, if he got caught and I got tangled up in the mess, my silence could make me an accomplice. Or, at the very least, I could be charged with obstruction of justice or something. I’d seen enough cop shows to get the idea.
But if I was his wife…
My mind whirled as I considered the possibility.
‘…you’re unattached. At least you were…’
I knew if I said yes, the untold consequences would be many. I couldn’t even begin to list them. But there was a flip side, too.
‘Now, you’re mine.’
“Babe,” he called from the door. I looked over at him, Reaper standing by his side, both of them clearly ready to get a move on. “Won’t say it again. Let’s go.”
‘Clue in, babe—this is your only way out of the clubhouse.’
Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the best option. I honestly didn’t know, and I was too tired and confused to sort it all out. There was only one thing I could be sure of—this was my escape hatch. Not merely from the room, but from underneath the burden of the truth.
As his wife, he was offering me a place to hide. Even if it was insane, he wasn’t giving me any other choice. And if I was honest, there were worse options than getting married to a man who looked like him.
‘Now, you’re mine.’
It was stupid. It was so totally stupid—but all night, it wasn’t him I was afraid of. It was whatever would come next that freaked me out. Now that I understood what next looked like, I wasn’t so much scared of the future as much as I was rattled by my willingness to follow him blindly into it.
And I was willing.
Not only that, it wasn’t all about self-preservation.
There was a small part of me that wanted his statement to be true.
Before last night, Pistol had been invading my thoughts for days.
I wanted him. I longed for him.
He killed a King, but he didn’t kill my inner vixen.
Now, the man in front of me—scary, tatted, hot, and rough around the edges—was claiming me as his. All I had to do was agree.
I didn’t see this coming, and it was insane, but I couldn’t see any way around it.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Without giving it another thought, I grabbed the paper sack with my breakfast and followed after him. We were halfway down the hall when I told him, “I hope you don’t think I’m getting married in yesterday’s clothes.”
He glanced over at me with a frown. “You look fine.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hunger and exhaustion getting the better of me again as I blurted, “I get that you’ve been busy, but I can’t possibly have to remind you that you’ve had me locked in that room all night.
My teeth aren’t brushed, my hair’s not washed, and I’m in yesterday’s clothes.
I don’t care if it’s a courthouse and not a cathedral—if you want a blushing bride and not a bitchy one, a bagel sandwich won’t cut it.
The least you could do is buy me a dress for this impromptu elopement. ”
He stared at me silently for a beat. “You’re joking,” he said flatly.
I wasn’t.
The more I thought about it, the more attached I became to the idea. I could use a few more minutes to wrap my head around the insanity of what we were about to do.
“Not even a little bit,” I told him matter-of-factly.
His scowl deepened. “Courthouse closes at five.”
“Not a problem,” I assured him as I continued toward the exit. Slipping by him, I said, “Take me to the mall. We’ll be in and out in an hour. Ninety minutes, tops.”
I heard him sigh as I passed, and there was something in the sound that told me I was going to get what I wanted. For the first time since I walked out of Viv’s, I almost smiled.
“Hour. You have one hour,” he grumbled.