“You got married?” my mom whispers, sounding genuinely hurt.
Did she expect me to invite her?
Under the layer of duct tape, I feel the light pressure of the ring Charlie slipped on my finger. Even if I’d had the grandest ceremony possible, with thousands of guests on the list, her name wouldn’t have been included.
I wonder if she’s found out about Dash’s wedding. If not, I’m not about to be the one to tell her. She might send her own kick into my aching gut.
“She won’t be married for long.”
The tone my father uses sets all my internal defense systems on high alert.
“What do you mean?” my mother asks, saving me the trouble.
Answering her but staring at me, my father crouches down next to me on the floor, his grin full of triumph and mockery.
“Because she’s not leaving this room until she signs some divorce papers.”
I snort, again not taking a moment to determine if that might be a bad move.
But the disrespectful noise doesn’t faze my father. He just grips my chin in his rough hand, making sure our eyes lock.
“You think I’m a bad guy? You don’t even know.” He lowers his voice so my mother won’t hear. “I have some nasty friends, baby girl. Men who will slit a throat for a hundred bucks.”
He drops me, and I’m too lost in the idea of what he’s describing to brace myself.
“There’s more than one way to lose a husband. You can be a divorcée.” Bill leans in close enough that his hot breath coats my face. “Or you can be a widow.”
“Fuck you,” I spit at him.
He laughs and stands, moving to throw an arm around my mother’s shoulders.
“We’ll let you think on it. Shouldn’t be hard. All you have to do is stop lying. Tell the court you don’t want to be married, and you can go back to your life, and we’ll get the money your mama always deserved.”
He pulls Vivian out of the room with him. Some other girl, with some other mother, might have tried to catch the woman’s eye. To silently beg her for help.
But I don’t bother.
I’m on my own, just like I’ve always been.
No. I have Charlie.
Charlie. My husband.
The truth tears through me, undeniable when I’m in pain, ashamed, and fighting off fear. There’s no more denying, and I can’t remember the reason I tried to in the first place.
He’s more than my husband.
He’s the man I love.
The man I will do anything—anything—to save.
CHAPTER 51
CHARLIE
When I hear the frantic barking, I know something is wrong.
The moment I step from the car, Pig’s racket hits me, the sounds wild. Feral. Briefly, I worry she’s contracted rabies from an infected raccoon or something.
