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I want to rip the dress apart with my bare hands and throw the shreds at his feet to let him know what I think of his proposal. No, not proposal. Blackmail from a black-hearted man.
I’d like to rip him apart too. Take out all of my anger and pain on his beautiful face. Scratch those blue eyes out. Though I doubt that would help. They’d haunt me as they have for five years.
A rogue tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe at it with extreme frustration. I’ve agonized over this decision that’s not really a decision so long that my chest aches. I grimace, pressing the dress tight into the pit of my stomach.
If my overbearing father and brothers only knew the sacrifice and the pride I’m swallowing just to save their asses. Their faces come to mind. All tan-skinned, dark-haired brutes who still believe it’s a man’s job to rescue the damsel in distress. Yet here we are, the damsel protecting them, and they have no clue what’s going on.
But if they did know, they’d be here. They’d put their lives on the line for me. That’s why I’m doing this. For the boys who have looked out for me since I was a child.
There’s a quiet knock. “Lulu?”
I go to the door and turn the knob, smirking at the fact that it’s unlocked now. Of course it is. Rowan no longer fears I’ll run. He’s got something stronger than locks to keep me his prisoner.
“Can I come in?” Mom asks, her eyes roving the room as if she expects Rowan to be in here with me, then landing on the dress in my arms.
“If you’re here to try to convince me to marry Rowan, don’t.” My words come out clipped and tinged with the annoyance that hit me earlier when she remained silent in the study and that only grew when I realized she likes it here.
Her lovely features soften. “I’m not here to do that, Lulu. I told him the choice was yours and yours alone.”
“What if I decide not to and we go to war with the McKenzies? Will you support my choice?”
“Absolutely,” she says firmly, her brown eyes intense.
I believe her. She’d rather have peace, but she’ll fight for me if I so choose.
I’m overcome by something I can’t define, perhaps because it’s not just one thing. It’s a myriad of emotions, as if I’m already at war. Only, this battle is inside me.
Sighing, I slump into her arms. “Why is Rowan doing this to me? Is our territory that important to him? Or is this some sort of revenge? No, don’t answer that. I already know what you’re going to say.”
She kisses the top of my head and guides me back to the bed. “What am I going to say?”
Pulling away, I stare at her, studying the way her full lips curve slightly upward. “You think he still loves me.”
“It is possible.”
“Ugh! You’re too much of a romantic. He doesn’t love me, Mom. He never has.” I toss the gown onto her lap and stand, then go to the window.
“And what about you?” she asks. “Doyoulove him?”
I whirl to her. “You were there that night. How could I possibly love him after that?”
Shrugging, she shakes her head and that same pity I saw in her eyes five years ago as I sat in the mud returns. “Hearts have a funny way of betraying us. That’s how I ended up with your father. You know that story. Yet I love him beyond sanity.”
Even though she didn’t mean to do it, what she says leaves me feeling more hopeless than ever.
Yes, I know that story well. Of how he kidnapped her while she was on a trip to Mexico and happened to tour a town that his cartel ran. One look at her and he had to have her. She fought him, using what few Spanish words she’d learned to curse him. He found it amusing and smiled. That smile stole her heart.
Every time she tells the story, it’s with a breathless voice, her eyes twinkling.
“But there is one stark difference between us,” I say. “I loved Rowan from the start.”
“And now?”
“I hate him,” I hiss with so much anger, my tears stream freely. “I hate him so much that I’m willing to marry him till death do us part. And I plan on being the cause of his.”
7
ROWAN
