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“You told me I was your prisoner for the next six years. I can’t just leave her and hope she survives.”
“She’s a wild animal, not an infant. She’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m not leaving without her.”
For fuck’s sakes. “Give it to someone in the building.”
“No. Either Biscuit accompanies me, or you can call Detective Lee and turn me in. But I’m not leaving without my cat.”
I roll my eyes. “You realize the prison system won’t allow Biscuit to come with you either?”
She shrugs. “They also wouldn’t demand I marry them, so if you want to punish me yourself, then you’ll open the car door and shut up. Otherwise, I have Detective Lee’s number if you need it.”
Fuck her and Biscuit.
“If it scratches the leather, you’ll suffer for it,” I warn, not bothering to open the door just because she told me to.
“Looking forward to it, husband.”
And like the pain in the ass she is, Reese drops her duffle bag at my feet and smiles. “If you break anything in my bag, just know you will suffer, too.”
She walks past me, stopping at the back door, a slow smile drawing on her face. Immediately, my stomach clenches.
I know that look.
It’s the same one I make right before I unleash havoc.
Reese
Biscuit’s claws are like tiny razors against my arm, a painful reminder that I’m once again leaving another place I consider home. Granted, Georgia has never felt like my real home, the one I had with my sister, but it’s all I’ve known for the past five years.
Here, I’ve been able to obtain my bachelor’s degree in computer science and secure a job as a teacher’s aide while I obtain my master’s. No one is chasing me here or trying to use me to get to my sister.
Here, I am simply Reese, the girl who prays for her sister’s safety every night before bed, and the woman who feels a deep connection to those who lie down penniless and afraid. This town has given me something to fight for—a place where I feel needed. I’ve helped fund so many women’s shelters from men like Blake and his friends. So many women are trapped in awful situations. My funding and connections have given them options, and now, I’m leaving it all behind to become an unwanted wife for a crime I didn’t commit.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I urge you to consider the consequences.”
Van’s voice pulls me from my depressive thoughts and back to my depressing situation sitting next to me in the driver’s seat.
“I’d hate to ruin our wedding photos with tears.”
My head snaps to attention. “First, shut up. No one is scared of your hateful ass. Second, fuck your wedding photos. They’re nothing but an expensive mug shot.”
I’m so going flip him off in every photo. See if he frames those gems.
Van cocks an eyebrow. “I hope you stay this feisty. It’ll make the next six years sufferable.”
Sufferable?
I startle Biscuit with a high-pitched voice on the brink of tears. “Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing but help you. You were the one who disappeared on me!”
Van’s jaw clenches so hard I worry he might crack a tooth.
Well, I take that back. I don’t worry so much as I hope he cracks a tooth.
Van Gogh is a demon; no one survives him.
Except me.
