Page 97 of Beautiful Scars

She stops chewing and puts the rest of her sandwich back on the plate as if she’s lost her appetite.

Christ, and I’m supposed to be getting her on my side?

Guess I need a lot more practice in diplomacy.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, putting down my crust. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s just…when you’re together…”

I push my plate away with the heel of my palm. I don’t want to think about when we’re together, because then I might start suspecting that she has a point. But the world doesn’t exist with just the two of us together. “I’m going back to my room,” I say as I slip off the stool and head for the stairs.

I shouldn’t just leave her after she went to the trouble of making me lunch, but I can’t help it. Not when she mirrors back my own question like she’s been digging around in my brain the past two weeks.

She doesn’t follow, but I guess that’s because she knows there’s nowhere else for me to go but back into my gilded cage.

Wouldit be the worst thing?

Of course it wouldn’t be the worst thing. I have a brilliant imagination. I can come up with a hundred things worse than marrying Cillian Hendry. But marrying him is pretty high on the list. Because I’ve run this through my mind several times the last few days.

I know he’s doing it to bribe Mom. I’m even sure I know why—it has to do with her bill for legalizing drugs. After all, that’s what the Hendry boys are so infamous for—running drugs.

But what happens after the wedding? What happens if it doesn’t work? And what happens if itdoes? Do I get to go home, or does he keep me here forever?

His pet bride in her pretty little cage.

After all this thinking, I’ve come to a conclusion. Cillian is just another Alex, and I don’t see him changing any time soon. So this wedding? Not the worst thing, no.

But when the wedding march plays, I won’t be walking down that aisle.

Oh no.

Meisie Ford will be long gone by then. And Sarah’s going to help me whether she wants to or not.

She looks up in surprise when I arrive back in the kitchen, her eyes going even wider when I grab my plate from the counter. “Too good to waste,” I tell her, even managing a smile.

“Look, Meisie, I’m sorry—”

I wave away whatever apology she’d been trying to get out. “Forget it.” I pause for a second and then look at her over my shoulder. “Is it pretty?”

She shakes her head. “Is what?”

“The place where I’m getting married?”

“Oh, the castle?” Her eyes light up. “Oh my God, yes. It’s stunning!”

I thought I’d have to fake this next bit, but for some reason my heart stutters. “A castle? Are you shitting me? I thought he was joking.”

She frowns. “Of course not. Kill had me book it…” Her lips part. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Where I’m getting married?” I shrug. “Must have slipped his mind.” I try and sound casual, but now my heart’s racing.

“You’re going to love it!” Sarah claps. “I’ll bring you a brochure so you can see it. It’s so romantic. Andexclusive! If it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t have gotten a date until next spring! And you won’t even believe how much he paid. I mean, that’s a good—”

I let her enthusiastic babble wash over me as my mind tries to process the bomb she just dropped on it.

I’m getting married in a week.

In a fucking castle.

Forest green wedding.

Cillian Hendry, gangster supreme. And, apparently, a closet romantic.

I don’t know what I’m feeling, but one thing is for sure.

I’m freaking the fuck out.