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“What happened?” I ask.
“He just told me where the next location is.”
My hand is nestled on the back of her neck behind her hair. I tilt her head up to look at me, and rage spreads inside me at what I see—puffy, red eyes.
“What happened?” I try again, this time as softly as I can manage, so I don’t scare her with the fire I feel inside.
“We had tea, and he told me where we have to travel to next.”
I can see the truth in her eyes—but she’s also hiding something from me.
“What did you do to get that information?”
She takes a step out of my arms; she’s not going to tell me. I could beat it out of her, threaten her, but it wouldn’t work. There is no threat violent enough to get her to tell me—to trust me.
We haven’t been married but a day, and she’s already keeping things from me. The only thing I can do is earn her trust while keeping the burning disappointment that I’m not enough for her at bay.
Her long eyelashes flicker up at me—telling me to trust her. There’s a reason she can’t tell me, it’s not by choice.
I sigh and run my hand through my hair.
“Let’s go get Maxwell and then get out of here.”
“You didn’t kill him?”
I shake my head. “You didn’t want me to, so I didn’t.”
“Thank you.”
I grab her neck and pull her back into my arms, my lips kissing the top of her head. “I’ll always do my best to do right by you. I promise.”
I link our fingers together, and then I pull her out of this place of darkness that has caused her so much pain in such little time. I may not know what happened, but at least I can be the one to take her away.
I watch her closely, looking for any sign of injury as we walk back into town. I find none. Whatever he did to her was mental.
We walk back into the church. It feels surreal to be standing back in the place where we got married so soon. Then I show her downstairs to where Maxwell is still tied up with a bullet wound in his thigh.
“You really didn’t kill him,” she says to herself in disbelief at the sight of Maxwell. She lets go of my hand and approaches him.
I’m not sure what she’s going to do to him. What I didn’t expect to see is her down on her knees next to him, ripping the bottom of her shirt to tie around his leg.
“I’m going to get you some water and pain killers, and you’ll feel better soon,” she says to him.
I frown, glaring down at him. I want to put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes, but apparently, we’re bringing him with us.
“Knife,” Liesel says, holding her hand out to me in an annoying tone.
I pull out my knife from my boot and hand it to her. She starts working on the pull ties around his wrists.
“Are you annoyed with me?” I ask.
“No,” she snaps back.
I roll my eyes. “So that’s a yes.”
She cuts the tie, and Maxwell falls forward, barely conscious.
“Did you really have to shoot him?”
