Page 36 of Then We Shatter

I don’t want to be here. I certainly don’t want to belong to another man. If I were to take a running jump, there’s a chance I’d miss the rocks. Sure, there’s nothing but ocean to swim towards if I did survive the fall, but still worth a try.

The wind picks up and there’s the mournful cry of a gull soaring high above me. I close my eyes, my body swaying as I stretch out my arms and feel the first heavy raindrops splash against my cheeks, mingling with my tears. In less than a minute, I’m consumed by the tropical storm that sweeps across the island.

The pelting rain slaps my face and I drop my head, but I stay where I am. How long would it take for this section of cliff to erode? Or would it break off in one complete section? Would I still be standing here so it could take me with it?

As I consider whether or not falling onto the rocks would be a peaceful or violent death, I hear a buzzing sound that doesn’t belong to any insect. The buzz transforms into the roar of an engine. Not a car. A motorcycle.

I could ignore it, but I don’t like not knowing who’s coming up behind me. Alexei might have access to the vehicles in Eric’s underground garage. It won’t be Vasili. He wouldn’t come out into the storm and ruin his clothes. I consider the possibility of it being Grigor or Sasha, but I’m not entirely surprised when I turn to find Eric skidding to a stop a few feet away. His white t-shirt is plastered to his soaking wet body. Biceps rippling.

“Get on!” he shouts over the howling wind, extending his hand.

I peel locks of hair from my face that have escaped my ponytail. “I’ll walk back!”

“Don’t make me pick you up, Katarina! Get on the bike!”

So, he wants to play the hero. I should tell him the bar is pretty high. Killian laid down his life for me.

When I approach the Ducati, Eric twists, assuming I need help climbing on. Little does he know I’ve raced up and down mountains on motorcycles and practiced mounting and dismounting for high-speed getaways. I once broke my wrist jumping onto the back of a moving bike.

But I let Eric underestimate me as I take his offered hand to ride pillion behind him. I’m careful to keep our bodies as far apart as possible, resting my hands on my knees. Eric immediately grabs my hands to bring my arms around his waist, tugging so I’m pressed against his back.

“Hold tight,” he says, patting my clasped hands. “I’ll give you a tour.”

Not waiting for an answer, he revs the engine and wheels spin in the mud before he speeds off with a jolt. The rain stings my face and I can only presume Eric’s familiar with the lay of the land because the rain is torrential and I can’t see a fucking thing. I turn my head and spit out locks of my hair.

Eric eases off the throttle and pats my hands. “You’re OK. Relax a little.” He repositions my grip so my palms are flat against his stomach. His abdominal muscles are defined and taught. Is this where I’m expected to swoon?

“Not bad for your age,” I shout.

I might not have noticed the flinch if I hadn’t been pressed against him. Is Eric Peterson a sensitive soul who doesn’t like to be reminded of his advancing years? It’s a shame he’s about to marry the kind of girl who’s going to take every opportunity of mentioning their thirty-year age difference until he wishes he’d left her on that cliff.

Eric recovers quickly and howls with laughter. “Oh, you’re in for a surprise, Kitty Kat.” It’s my turn to flinch, but Eric is too busy trying to convince me of his youth to notice my reaction to my new pet name. “I have the stamina of a man half my age.”

Half his age would still be a few years older than me, but if he’s going to start calling me Kitty, he might not see his next birthday. Not that the chances were high to begin with having me as his bride.

As we speed across the lawn, Eric points out the gated entrance appearing through the grey curtain of rain. “That’s the only road down to the dock. There are guards at the gate twenty-four-seven and the electrified fence circles the rest of the estate. The voltage isn’t lethal, but we train all our staff how to use defibrillators just in case.”

Is this a safety announcement or a warning?

We continue our ride past a stretch of the fence that must be twenty feet high, the bike skimming dangerously close at one point. Rather than pleading with Eric to steer us to safety as might be expected, I’m currently wrestling with the kind of intrusive thought that can get a girl into trouble. What would happen if I touched the fence?

Lifting a hand off Eric’s rippling abs, I stretch out my arm, fingers extended. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I feel the sizzle of electricity traveling through the damp air towards my fingertips. Eric swerves sharply, and I’m forced to grab hold of his t-shirt to steady myself.

“The only other way to leave would be jumping off the cliff,” Eric continues as if I hadn’t just tried to fry us both. “But no one’s ever been able to clear the rocks.”

He’s priming me to ask who tried, but I don’t take the bait. “Why are you telling me this?”

“As my wife, it’s important you understand the boundaries of our relationship. I thought we’d begin with the simple stuff,” he says as the rain starts to ease. “This is your forever home, Katarina. All you have to do is let me take care of you.”

The tropical storm passes quickly, and by the time Eric pulls up outside the guest villa, the sun is back to full strength and steam rises from my tank top. I jump off the Ducati before Eric cuts the engine, and while he rests the bike on its kickstand, I head for the door.

He catches me up, an arm circling me so he can spin me around. “A thank you would be nice.” he says in a gentle but warning tone.

“Didn’t my uncle tell you? I’m not nice.”

Eric smirks, closing what little space there is between us. “Good. I like bad girls.”

His low, seductive tone might work on some, but not me. I keep my expression bored as I open my mouth, but before I can deliver a parting shot, he pinches my chin. He keeps my jaw pressed down as he smothers my lips with his and his tongue darts into my mouth.