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“I will not marry you. This will not happen.” I shake my head and fail to hold his gaze for long.
“Oh, but it will, because”—he points toward my family, waving at them, and they respond with big smiles in their eyes. Then he turns us slightly, just as the song ends on a high note, waving at my brother who dances with some random girl and nods back to him—“if you don’t, they all die.”
And just like that, the song ends…
The dance ends…
My freedom ends with it…
* * *
VINCENT
We all follow Liam O’Rourke,who disappears through a wide corridor at the other end of the ballroom. He waited to see us until the main wave of people came to congratulate him for marrying off his daughter… Funny, the things people celebrate nowadays.
I catch Morrigan’s eyes following me as she stands beside her future husband, accepting even more congratulations from people ecstatic for her tragedy.
“Something’s off, isn’t it.” Madds watches the same person I am.
Both Finn and Carter turn their heads slightly to glance at us as they walk in front, humming their approval in unison.
“She didn’t know,” I tell them, but look at Madds most of all. I think he had a soft spot for her back in the day. Or at least I always thought so, but the bastard hides feelings all too well, and I never allowed myself to talk about her, after… after our abrupt demise. Somehow, because of all I know of him, I never felt enough jealousy to ask about it either. I would have just been happy to know he cares for something.
Judging by the look in his eyes now, he definitely had a soft spot for her. Maybe still does. Under his olive skin, around his temple and forehead, there are some veins that look like they could burst every time he fixes on someone. It’s the most anger he tends to show outside the ring. Even the times we’ve been attacked, or been in any precarious situations, his composure is eerie when he smashes someone’s face in with his fists alone. He simmers that anger in his veins, debating the most efficient move, and I have seen many adversaries that backed out before the first punch was thrown, just because of that grim expression and those throbbing veins. It does help that he’s stacked with muscles like a fucking bull, and tall enough that he looks down at pretty much everyone around him.
His amber eyes flash from her to me and I know he’s already calculating his next strike.
“We need to see what her father wants.” I steady him, as Finn and Carter quirk their eyebrows at us over their shoulders.
He doesn’t respond, but shifts his gaze to the end of the corridor where Liam waits with his son, and that’s the most confirmation I’ll get from him.
“Gentlemen, please, have a seat.” We’re led into a private room with its own bar and we take a seat on the ornate sofa and armchair. Only Madds chooses to stand. He usually does. “I’m not sure if you’ve been introduced to my son, Cillian.” He nods to his son, curly red hair trapped in one of those buns at the back of his head, thick wiry beard more muted in color than the rest of his hair. “Cillian, this is Vincent Sinclair, Finn Hennessey, Maddox Severin, and Carter Pierce.”
We all nod, but Finn speaks.
“Yes, many years ago. I had the pleasure of breaking his nose with my knee.”
Liam quirks an eyebrow, a hint of that protective father figure peeking through, but his son doesn’t smile, doesn’t even blink, his thin lips completely straight behind his mustache, only his nostrils flare ever so slightly as he looks at Finn.
“After I dislocated your shoulder in that legendary tackle.” The redhead walks behind the stocked bar and grabs a bottle of Bourbon, as I catch a hint of a smirk in his green eyes that match his sister’s.
His father passes around some glasses to each of us, and it’s at that moment the wooden door opens and Holt walks in, leaving it to close behind him as he regards each and every one of us, one by one. He doesn’t linger on me, and why would he, he doesn’t know how much I want to cave his face in right now. No matter how much I don’t have a right to do so, but I saw the way he acted with her in that restaurant… It’s enough to tell me what kind of man he is. And the announcement tonight… that just tipped the fucking scale.
I have no right to be protective of her; she doesn’t belong to me, and I’ve been repeating this to myself too many times in the last few months, but I can’t seem to be convincing enough. She was mine once, and I’ve been telling myself she was too young to count it as real… we weren’t deep enough to warrant what lingered after. Either way, it doesn’t makethisright, forced marriage or whatever the fuck this is!
It’s staying with me, the petrified look in her eyes as he led her onto the dance floor, the way she fixed on me, desperate for a lifeline, and no amount of hate for me could have swayed her away. Desperation. Fear. Rage. It darkened her gaze, but I held her there, without blinking I willed her not to move away, whispering in my mind the same words I chant when shit is about to go down—death is freedom, but my life is their demise.
It worked.
I watched as she blinked through the heaviness that weighed on her, as she sorted through the amalgam of confusing emotions, taking some sort of fucking life force from me, and leaving me with a gaping hole. It didn’t feel like a loss, it somehow belonged to her already…
Madds shuffles slightly behind me, his boots scraping the old wooden floor, and Holt’s gaze lingers on him. I’m not going to look up to figure out why, but I can’t help but wonder if those veins, or the sinew in his throat, have made an appearance.
“Congratulations on your… engagement.” Finn’s tone holds his usual charm, but I know even without looking that the usual blue of his eyes has turned to ice.
“Thank you. We’re looking forward to having a wedding as soon as possible.” He sits in the last empty armchair across from me.
We…
