Chapter Twelve
Lilac
The next morning, I wake up in Irvin’s bed. My head pounds. My mouth is dry. I drank way too much. My legs feel like Jell-O as I swing them over the edge and push myself off the bed.
I can’t believe I agreed to be Irvin’s fake wife—almost getting caught in my web of lies. I need to stay away from Preston. I have a feeling he’ll be snooping into my past, but he won’t be able to find anything. I made sure no one can track the old me—Paige.
My breath catches, and my knees weaken.
I even created a fake death certificate—Paige died by suicide. At the time, that’s what I wanted—just to end it all, after getting bullied and blamed for my parents’ deaths.
One of my father’s old friends helped with my new identity and promised me that no one would ever dig into my past.
Tears wet my eyes. I miss my old life. I miss the old me. But I had to bury her if I was going to outrun my demons.
Sighing, I stare out the window at the sun shimmering across the sea. The water is too calm, too still. A chill snakes down my spine. I can’t help but to think someone is watching me from the balcony. But I know no one is there.
I can’t wait until the fake marriage is over so I can go back to my regular life. The life I created can go up in smoke if I don’t keep up with the lies I’ve told my friends. Guilt follows me around like a shadow.
I toss the blanket off my body and head to the bathroom. Irvin is shaving his five o’clock shadow, and my heart beats hard at how neat he looks. I guess I have to get used to my new norm—living with him. At least when no one’s around, we don’t have to pretend to be husband and wife.
Without acknowledging him, I step into the shower.
Slowly, Irvin pushes the shower door open and steps onto the white tiles with me.
We stare at each other, and he kisses me—hard and demanding.
Then he fucks me against the shower wall.
But now that we’re temporarily married, I get to have all the sex I want with him.
After all, he’s earned my trust by being there for me and helping me financially.
Hopefully, the investigation into my bank account will be cleared up soon.
We both hop out of the shower, dry ourselves off, get dressed, and head downstairs.
Jameson and Keanu are in the kitchen making breakfast. The smell of bacon and fresh biscuits wafts in the air. My stomach rumbles.
“You two hungry?” Keanu asks.
“No. We need to get to class,” Irvin answers.
Outside, Irvin walks me to his bike, and I shake my head. I don’t like riding on his bike. What if we get into an accident and we die? No thanks. I don’t want my guts splattered across asphalt.
I follow him to his white Mustang and toss my book bag in the back seat.
I’m nervous about going to campus. I know we’re about to be the talk of the town.
Being with someone like Irvin earns me brownie points and respect—and I’m protected by him.
As the wife of a God, it opens doors for me.
Now that I think about it, it’s more of a benefit for me to be fake married to him than it is for him to be married to me. The thought unsettles me.
He pulls out of the driveway, puts the gear in drive, and rides down the icy road. He places his hand in mine, and I like the way he holds it—how attentive he is.
Sweat slicks my palm, so I wipe it on my leggings.
This seems too good to be true, like the rug is going to be snatched from under me. I swallow thickly, hoping to wash it away, but it only gets worse.
He turns the knob on the dashboard, and Three Days Grace blasts through the speakers.
He strokes the back of my neck. Goosebumps erupt on my arms, my body acutely aware of him.
Five minutes later, we arrive at school. The campus is flooded with students strolling in and out of the cobblestone Gothic-style halls.
Irvin kills the engine, narrowing his eyes at me.
“I’m going to walk you to class.”
I shake my head, grabbing my book bag from the back seat. “Oh, nonsense. I can walk myself.”
He leans closer, and his gaze darkens, smoothing out his brown tie. “You’re my wife.”
Something twists in my stomach, but I shrug it off. Why do I feel like there’s more to what he’s saying? Am I losing my mind?
We walk close together, shoulder to arm.
He tilts my chin to meet his gaze. “Is everything okay, princess?”
I shake my head and take his hand in mine. I’ve noticed that he’s been extra attentive since the wedding. “Are you okay? You’re being weird,” I question.
He stops in his tracks, his gaze zeroing in on me. “How am I being weird?”
“You’re holding my hand. You’re being extra touchy. And you’re walking me to class.”
“I’ve always been this way. You just never noticed.” He pauses. “We have to pretend that we’re really together so we can fool people.”
Something’s off with him, but I can’t explain it. I twitch my mouth. “So, all of this is an act, then?”
He shakes his head. “Lilac, I’ve always looked after you. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
The wind blows, and I tighten my jacket, fidgeting with the wedding band suffocating my finger.
I nod and clear my throat. “Yeah. I am.”
“The movers should have my stuff at your place soon. And tonight, we’re having dinner with my father.”
Great. I can’t wait to have dinner with Inspector Gadget.
“Why are we having dinner with your father?”
Irvin’s fingers tighten around mine. “He insists that we have dinner with him. If he asks questions about your past, I’ll shut it down.”
After the encounter with Preston at the wedding, I don’t want to see him again. If I say too much in front of him, he’ll connect the dots and realize I’m a liar—and I can’t have that. If Irvin finds out about my past, he’ll dump me, and I’ll be out on the streets.
Regret instantly hits my stomach. I need Irvin and his money. As soon as my bank account isn’t frozen anymore, I’m going to pay Irvin back every penny, from the food to the rent. So I hope they can clear this up soon.
We arrive at Freud Hall, and I breathe in deeply.
Irvin peers up at the gray monastery building. Sometimes, the building creeps me out, as if a hundred-year-old ghost will jump out and scare me.
“We have to prove to him this is real. If not, I could be sent to Tartarus for scamming the secret society.”
“What’s Tartarus?”
“A place where they torture the men who go against the American Gods’ rules.”
I crinkle my nose. “You risked your life to help me?” That’s something I didn’t know.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
My eyes widen as my breath catches. For a long time, I haven’t had anyone there for me.
Maybe I’ve been wrong about Irvin. Maybe he isn’t like Emerson.
Maybe he really does care about me, and I’ve pushed him away for too long.
I have to tell myself it’s okay to allow myself to want someone—to allow people to get close.
I don’t know how to respond, so I keep quiet.
He looks at his watch. “Let’s go by the café and get you breakfast.”
“Why didn’t we eat the food Keanu and Jameson offered?”
“Because they don’t know how to cook. Their food tastes like dry wood.”
“Oh.”
Once we make it to the café, it’s busier than usual. People greet us and congratulate us on the wedding.
The barista calls out customers’ orders so they can collect them. It’s busier than usual.
Irvin collects our drinks, and we sit by the bay window. The frost glues itself to the corner of the glass. The air is cozy, warm, and inviting, but the wind rattles the window, causing my chest to tighten. Nothing seems wrong, but I can’t help but feel as if something isn’t right.
I lean back, bite into my bagel, and slowly drink my hot cocoa topped with whipped cream. This feels nice, and I don’t like Irvin making me feel safe. His demeanor is neutral.
He sips his dark coffee slowly, watching me above the rim.
“How are classes for you?” I question.
He shrugs.
“I never liked school. I always felt like it was unnecessary for me to get a college degree when I’m going to be the COO of the business.”
“Well, maybe they want you to learn how to do your job,” I suggest.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s about control. They want to control the men like puppets.”
“Who wants to control you?”
He shakes his head. “You’re a woman. You’re not supposed to know this stuff.
” He sighs. “But I never gave a fuck about their stupid rules.” He bites into his blueberry muffin, then offers it to me, and I shake my head.
“The board. You saw them at our wedding. They control us like puppets, pulling our strings. We have to keep other secret societies from getting out of hand. It’s stupid. ”
I frown.
“So you’re saying there are other secret societies out there?”
“Yes. It’s a dog-shit-eat-shit world. The board only cares about the elite and money.”
Lyrical mentioned to me that the women aren’t supposed to know what goes on at the club.
I polish off my bagel.
“How do women fit into this?”
“Women are only there to serve us as our wives and bear our children.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Does every member have to have a baby?”
“Yes. It’s how we keep the club and bloodline going.”
“So, the girl you marry for real is only meant to serve you?”
He nods. “They just now allowed women to get degrees. My mother wasn’t able to go to college.”
I rub the back of his hand.
“What was your mother like?”
He gives me a bewildered look.
“What?”
“No one’s really asked me about her.” He smooths out his tie. “She was sweet. And kind. Loved animals. Especially huskies. My father hated all the animals she brought home, and he got rid of them after her death.”
I want to tell him I know how it feels to lose a close family member, but I’ve lied for so long that I forget my parents are dead until the nightmares come back.
He gets up from the table and throws away our trash. “It’s time to go to class,” he states. He picks up my book bag and straps it across his shoulder, then straps his own against the other shoulder.
Irvin walks me to class, holding hands. It feels nice yet wrong. I almost forget to act like we’re in a relationship—since I only had one relationship throughout my life.
Once we’re standing in front of the double oak doors of Freud Hall, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his lips. “Thanks for breakfast.”
He nods. “I’ll be waiting for you to walk you to your next class.”
I smile widely at him. Once I arrive at my psychology class, I sit at the front, ease out my MacBook, and set it on the eggshell desk.
I realize it’s my nerves and paranoia. I’m afraid to get close to anyone, which is why I feel like my deal with Irvin is too good to be true.
He’s just playing the dutiful husband, and it’s okay to trust him.