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Max was right.
I drop my gun to the floor.
I just have to hope that outside my house there’s an army ready and waiting to save Shelby.
The first punch lands on my back before I have a chance to register it’s coming. More blows follow from the men behind me, and then the two bodyguards in front of me join in. I try my hardest to fight back, but it’s impossible with six onto one.
Before I know it, I’m on the floor, and pain explodes throughout my body. I can see Shelby trying to free herself from the arms of the man holding her, but he’s too strong. Her eyes are filled with tears.
My father removes the gun from her mouth, and having stepped over me, he walks away, dragging Shelby behind him. I try to get up and chase after them, but I’m met by a barrage of kicks and punches to my body and legs, and I hear the crack of ribs breaking.
Get up.
Get up.
I try to will myself to stand, but my body is failing me.
My father’s leaving with the woman I love.
Love!
I love Shelby Jones.
“Goodbye, Eaton.” My father turns back to look at me. “Thank you for being the biggest disappointment of my life. I’m going to enjoy breaking Shelby.”
Reaching my hand out toward Shelby, I try to get up, but I can’t as more kicks incapacitate me. Shelby disappears from view, and I know I’ve failed to keep her safe like I promised.
“Kill him,” my father orders. “Send his head to my rivals. No one will ever dare mess with me again.”
31
SHELBY
Ican’t get Mr. Armstrong’s last words to his men out of my head—kill him and decapitate him.
I shut down completely. Without Eaton, there is no life.
I’m carried out of the house, thrown into the back of a car, and Eaton’s father gets in beside me. Orders are barked out, and we speed down the drive and out into the desert. I don’t know where I’m being taken. My face is swelling by the minute, and the ringing still sounds out in my head. Everything feels blurred, like I’m in a dream that’s playing out in slow motion. No, not a dream, a nightmare, the most frightening one of my life.
Eventually the car slams to a halt, and I’m dragged out of the car. My feet rake across the sandy ground as two men, one on either side of me, carry me under my arms. Richard Armstrong walks like a king at the head of our procession. I’m like a lamb to the slaughter.
We enter the building in front of us. It’s a square box with no distinct features except for the cross on the door. A chapel. He means for us to marry straight away.
He wasn’t joking when he said I was to be his.
His meaning of the word mine is very different from Eaton’s, though.
I’ll only ever belong to Eaton.
But he’s dead.
A priest is standing at the front of the chapel when we enter. Eaton’s father throws some paperwork at him and says, “I think you’ll find everything’s in order.”
One of the guards appears at the side of the priest and points a gun at him.
“Marry us now,” Mr. Armstrong orders.
I’m held up in front of the priest as he recites the marriage vows. I shake my head the entire time to show I don’t consent to this marriage. I don’t repeat the vows, but it doesn’t matter, he continues with the ceremony regardless. Once the vows are completed, a certificate is put in front of me to sign. I refuse and am punished with another punch to the face. A wound opens on my face, and blood trickles down my cheek and neck. It stains the white t-shirt I’m wearing.
