Page 99 of Bound

Sharp enough to catch every light in the room and throw it back brighter.

Mine.

Mine as vow.

Mine because she chose me.

My throat tightens.

Paige watches my face and softens. “She’s going to love it.”

“She likes gold.”

“I know. You said that at least fourteen times.”

Bronson crosses his arms. “Seventeen.”

I ignore him.

The diamond flashes.

I think of Erin in an armored car on the way to Bachman Village, asking if I would ever get around to proposing as if she did not already own every ruined part of me.

I think of the first night.

Her fear.

Her false name.

Her inadequate coat.

The money she needed.

The way I thought I was buying one night, when I was really opening the first door to the rest of my life.

Then I think of Erin walking into this store one day, not as a desperate girl staring at things she cannot have from the sidewalk.

As my wife.

As a Bachman.

“Inside?” I ask.

Paige nods. “Exactly as requested.”

She lifts the ring and tilts it toward me.

The inscription is small.

One perfect word.

“The wedding is soon,” Bronson says.

Paige laughs. “You Bachman men never favored long engagements. Did you?”

“Never,” Bronson says. “When you know, you know.”

Paige glances at him.