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Frankie was trembling. Shane, standing directly across from her, holding both of her hands in his, squeezed them, telling her with his eyes to answer the priest.
She shook her head.
He squeezed them harder.
Her throat was dry, so she coughed, then opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out. She couldn’t do it. She could not swear to give her life to this stranger.
Shane squeezed her fingers even harder, so hard it hurt. Like a fish, her mouth moved, but again, only silence came out. Clearly frustrated, Shane answered for her.
“She does.”
Father Thomas nodded. Seemingly unfazed, he continued with the ceremony, and she heard Shane pledge to keep her safe.
Great.
Another promise.
She tried to remember the words he said earlier. He needed to eliminate the threat against them. Maybe if she helped him find the people who did this, and they got rid of them, she could be free from him. Perhaps she could convince him to get an annulment if not a divorce. He was reacting out of grief and trauma, and in time, he might see more clearly.
“We are married.” Shane squeezed her hand.
“What time is it?” she asked quietly.
“What?” Shane seemed taken aback by her question.
“You know, when they pronounce someone dead, they say time of death. What time is it?”
“It is”—Shane looked at his watch—“ten o’clock in the morning, exactly. How about that?” He smiled at her.
Frankie tipped her head back and laughed, laughing until tears ran down her face. The room was silent, and everyone was staring at her, but the laughter wouldn’t stop.
Finally, all laughed out, she turned to Shane.
“I’m supposed to be on a date with Shawn right now.”
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Frankie. Yesterday, Shawn had asked her to meet him for coffee.
Today, she was marrying his younger brother.
No.
She had married.
She looked down at the heavy ring on her finger.
It was ugly, absolutely ugly.
Shane assured her he hadn’t picked it out. Apparently, Father Thomas had a box full of rings for brides who were forced to get married against their wills, and he insisted on the exchange of rings during the ceremony. He didn’t care what happened to the rings after the wedding, as long as they stayed on during.
Father Thomas said some couples kept them as mementos of the occasion. Why anyone would want to be reminded of the day they were forced to form a union with a person they didn’t love, she didn’t understand.
She wanted to take it off and throw it in his face. She was probably going straight to hell for thinking that about a priest, but she didn’t care. She wanted to claw his eyes out for performing illegal marriages for uncooperative brides and likely grooms, but she didn’t want her mother to roll over in her grave and come back to haunt her. She would, Frankie knew it. She wouldn’t be above haunting her daughter if Frankie embarrassed her.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she had a feeling her parents would approve of the match. Maybe not if they were alive, not like this. In fact, she was sure her father would have Shane’s head if he had kidnapped her while her dad was alive. In these circumstances, though, she knew, beyond a shadow of any doubt, her father would have wanted this.
“You have some mighty big feelings going through your head, don’t you?” Mak said, coming to stand next to her. The men were paying Father Thomas. She had glanced over to see them counting out hundred-dollar bills into his hands.
“That’s an understatement. To be honest, I’m not sure how I feel.”
