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My head lands on the soft cushion, and before I can so much as react, his temple presses into mine, hard, securing my head between his and the couch below us.
And that’s it.
I’m beat.
Defeated.
King’s wild breathing matches my own as I struggle to calm my heaving lungs.
I blink away the tears still clinging to my lashes and notice a crumpled sweatshirt on the floor just inside the doorway.
Where did that come from?
I blink at it again.
Did King get that? Is that why he left me alone with the other man? When he swore and left the room, was he getting me a sweatshirt? Because I was shivering?
How am I ever supposed to make sense of this man?
“I can see why you want to marry her,” N chuckles from his place still against the wall.
I glare at him.
“What’s not to love?” King’s tone is nonchalant. Like that’s why we’re getting married. Because he loves me. Not because…
I blink some more.
I don’t even know why he wants to marry me.
I mean, it’s not because he wants to spend his life with me. And it certainly has nothing to do with love. So, it has to have something to do with Lee. But why?
N clears his throat. “Well, I found a script online. Do we need a witness in here before we get started? Or are you just gonna forge that too?”
“Bring Steve in. He can be a witness,” King replies, his voice loud against my ear.
N dips his chin, then turns and walks out the door. Leaving us alone.
I can feel his chest fill against my back as he takes a deep breath.
I swallow, clearing the lump from my throat. “Why marriage?
King sighs, his chest compressing. “Because you know too much.”
I try to shake my head, but I can’t, since he’s still pressing his temple to mine. “I don’t know anything.”
“You know I killed Leland.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“You know that’s not how this works.”
“No, King! I don’t know that’snot how this works!” Tears threaten again, so I pinch my eyes shut even tighter. “Believe it or not, I’ve never been involved in a murder before.”
“I believe that, Honey. You’re a good girl.” His voice is so sincere, it trickles warmth into my chest before I can stop it.
“Then why?” I whisper.
“It’s complicated.” When I sniffle, his arms tighten around me, and he uses his legs wrapped around mine to bring all four of our legs up onto the couch. It’s disgustingly comfortable, spooning on this couch, with the giant man forcing me into a marriage I don’t want. “There are enough dots out there, connecting you to Leland, and Leland to me, that you would eventually get questioned. But as my wife, no one can force you to testify against me. And,” he continues before I can argue, “if the cops can put those pieces together, so can my enemies.”Enemies. “This may come as a surprise to you,” his tone turns sarcastic, “but I’m involved in some not-so-good things.”
