Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I hate it. Hate that I can’t fight back. That Saint has to witness me like this, weak and powerless. He releases me with a shove, and I adjust myself in my chair. No matter what happens, I won’t let him hurt her.
Done with me at least for right now, he moves on to survey Saint in a slow circle, inspecting her like livestock. “I’m not sure what all the fuss is about.” His gaze narrows with interest. “She’s mighty sweet and innocent-looking. Far from your type, if you ask me.”
I’m tempted to pipe up and tell him he doesn’t know what my type is, or even what matters to me, but I don’t want to instigate him any more than I already have.
“You don’t care about our opinions, though. Do you?”
It’s a trick question. No matter what answer I give him, I’m wrong. “I do.”
“Wrong,” he murmurs and reaches out to stroke Saint’s arm. “But is she worth risking the family for? Worth risking everything we’ve built?”
“Yes,” I say, and there’s too much truth in that single word for this situation.
Roman stops in front of Saint, tilting her chin up with one finger to force her to look at him. “You must be something special to make my son so stupid. So tell me, girl—what is it about you that’s worth all this trouble? You got a magic cunt or something?”
Saint’s breathing is shallow, rapid. But when she speaks, her voice doesn’t shake. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask your son.”
The defiance in her tone makes my heart stutter, even as pride wells up to pump it with heat. All for her.
Roman’s eyes narrow. “You’ve got a mouth on you. I don’t like mouthy women. Especially not women who marry into my family without permission.”
“I didn’t have much choice in the matter. You don’t really say no to a Bishop,” Saint says, and fuck, she needs to stop talking. Needs to shut her mouth before Roman—
The slap comes so fast I barely see it.
The crack of palm against skin echoes through the dining room like a gunshot. Saint’s head snaps to the side, and she staggers, would’ve fallen if Levi hadn’t caught her arm.
Everything goes white.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’m moving, chair clattering backward. My hands are fists, my vision tunneling down to my father’s face, to the hand he just used to strike her.
“You piece of shit—”
Kade’s on me in an instant, pinning my arms back. “Don’t,” he hisses in my ear. “You’ll make it worse.”
“Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Calder,” Sawyer’s says, sharp and commanding, “stand down.”
I can’t. Can’t stand down, can’t breathe, can’t think past the rage burning through my veins. Because he hit her. My father hit Saint, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to retaliate.
Roman watches my struggle with cold satisfaction. “There it is. The real reason you married her. Not to protect her from me. Not even because you wanted her.” He steps closer, and I can smell the beer on his breath. “You married her because you’re in love with her. She’s your weakness.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’ve been watching you watch her. Seen the way you look at her when you think no one’s paying attention.” His smile is vicious. “You’re soft for this girl. And soft men don’t survive in this family.”
Behind him, Levi’s helping Saint back into her chair. Her cheek is already swelling, an angry red handprint stark against her pale skin. She’s not crying, though. Not giving Roman the satisfaction.
“This is my fault,” I say, forcing my voice to steady. “Not hers. If you’re going to punish someone, punish me.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Roman nods at Kade. “Let him go.”
Kade releases me, and I stumble forward, catching myself on the edge of the table. Roman’s fist catches me in the gut before I can straighten, driving the air from my lungs. I double over, gasping.
“That’s for getting married without permission,” Roman says.
The second blow catches me across the jaw, snapping my head to the side. Pain explodes through my skull, bright and sharp.
“That’s for making me look like a fool in front of the whole town.”
The third hit lands on my ribs, and I hear something crack. I drop down to one knee, and the coppery tang of blood fills my mouth.
“And that’s for thinking you could keep secrets from me.”
Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Saint’s voice. “Stop! Please, stop. He didn’t—”
“Sit down, girl, before I give you the same punishment.” Roman’s boot connects with my shoulder, and I hit the floor. “Your husband needs to learn his place, and clearly, words aren’t enough to penetrate his skull.”
Another kick, this time to my stomach. I curl into myself, trying to protect my vital organs, trying to breathe through the pain.