Page 4 of His Bride

“I understand,” he says as Derry comes back out to the car. He gets in and hands me the bag.

“Change of plans, brother. Bryan here is going to drive us home. Get to know him,” I say. Derry will know that I want a background check done on him immediately. This isn’t our first rodeo. We have shorthand between us that seems like nothing at all.

“Very good,” he says, putting his seatbelt on. We take off into traffic after Derry puts the compound’s address into the GPS.

Bryan and Derry start talking to each other, but my sole focus is Matilde.

I lie her down on the seat next to me so that her feet are in my lap. I make sure the blanket stays over her as I begin to doctor her poor feet. I can’t help placing little kisses on them after removing the glass from her many, many cuts. One of them looks as if she’ll need stitches, but I’ll have to make do until we get home. We have a doctor that comes when I need him to. No questions asked concierge medicine costs a lot of fucking money, but I can’t tell you how many bullets he’s removed from my men and me. His silence and ethical medical treatment are worth the cost.

Once her delicate feet and shins are clean and bandaged, I pull the shamrock fuzzy socks onto her feet and put her back in my lap. Her chest to my chest. The liquid Benzo that I injected her with won’t do any lasting harm. I checked with Dr. O’Leary before I gave it to her. I made sure it was from a reputable pharmacy as well. You never know what these street dealers cut their drugs with to make it go farther.

I pull the velvet pillowcase off of her face so that she can breathe better. In her sleep, she snuggles into my chest and sighs.

“Savauge,” she murmurs but doesn’t wake up.

I may have drugged and kidnapped her, but hurting her in a lasting, permanent way is the farthest thing from my mind. I want her to be as obsessed with me as I am with her.

FOUR

MATILDE

I jerkawake and am still plunged in total darkness. My dreams were so freaking vivid. Murmurs from them flit back into my mind, but I don’t understand them. They are in a language I don’t speak. All I know is it wasn’t English, Italian, Spanish, or French. My hands are free, so I reach up and feel my face. It’s not covered anymore. I lie back on what is probably the softest bed I’ve ever laid on and access myself. I feel my body and realize that I am wearing more clothes than I had on before. My pussy doesn’t hurt, so that’s a good thing, right? I reach into my panties and feel… nothing. No wetness or soreness, thank God. My legs and feet, on the other hand, are killing me. I notice a bedside table after letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I fumble for it and find the cord for the lamp. The room fills with a pale red light. I am in someone’s bedroom. There are pictures on the table, and art hung on the three walls. The fourth wall holds a giant TV.

I can’t help but think that I’m being held for ransom. I know that my family would do anything to get me back, so I am not too worried about it. I just know I have to get out of here as soon as possible. I am sure my mom is freaking the fuck out.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a female voice says. I didn’t hear the door open. She flips on the lights, and I am temporarily blinded. I wince. “Shoot, sorry.” I back up on the bed, away from the young girl. She looks younger than me but oddly reassuring.

“Who are you?” I ask. I’m really fucking scared right now. I don’t know where I am or why I’m here. At least this is a really nice room and not a sex dungeon somewhere.

“I’m Cashel. I’m not going to hurt you, Matty.” Her Boston accent takes me by surprise. Do I know anyone from Boston? I try to think, but it’s no use. I’m weak and hungry.

“Do I know you?” I ask.

“Not yet, but you know some of my brothers.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“I’ll let my brother explain this to you. I’m supposed to help you take a shower and get some food in your belly. I’m sure you’re starving.” My belly chooses that moment to grumble loudly. The girl giggles, and I find myself giggling too, only hysterically… like a deranged loon.

“How long have I been here?” I ask when I finally get my shit together.

“Three days. You must have been mighty sleepy.”

“I was drugged,” I say, remembering the pinprick in my arm. I look down at my bare legs. They are bandaged.

“I don’t know anything about that, Matty. The doctor said for me to wrap your left shin in Saran Wrap because he had to stitch one of your cuts. The others can all get wet and should be cleaned thoroughly.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I try to tell her, but she doesn’t respond to that.

Cashel doesn’t say anything but helps me stand. She leads me to the bathroom. “My brother has thought of everything. This is his room, but he’s filled it with things he thought you’d like; if you don’t, let me know. I probably have something else you’d like.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This. Helping him kidnap me.” Whoever the fuck he is.

“Oh, Matty. You don’t understand yet, but you will. He’d never hurt you. No matter what he says, he’d never hurtyou,” she whispers. She over-emphasizes the word you so I take that to mean that while he wouldn’t hurt me, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone else. Cashel seems like a nice girl, though misguided. She opens the shower door and turns it on. Steam quickly fills the room while I let her wrap my leg up. I strip quickly before entering the big glass shower. Cashel makes herself busy at the counter. I can see her through the door of the shower. She pulls out a fresh toothbrush and hairbrush. My stupid mind wonders how often he does this. Does he do it so often that he has the basic items stockpiled? And to bring his surely younger sister into it? That’s fucking sick. Now that I’m standing, my whole body aches, but that’s probably from sleeping for three fucking days. What the hell did he give me? I stand under the hot water and let it wash over me.

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