Page 36 of Wild Devil

“Like me?” He pulls back, his eyes narrowing. “And I’m sure you believed him. Dear God, Frances. You always were gullible, but even that should have aroused the smallest hint of skepticism from you.”

He sounds so damn cocky. Too smug to be lying. It suddenly occurs to me that he doesn’t know the full truth. Apparently, my father doesn’t trust him as much as he does Silas. It brings something else he said into a new, chilling light. He may be forcing me to marry Colton, but he doesn’t intend for me to stay married long.

Why is that?

“I thought Father trusted you,” I say, choosing to probe Colton outright. “Perhaps I should speak more to the man he had keep me company the other night.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Colton scoffs, but I can see confusion ripple across his expression. Apparently, he was still sour about Silas’ visit, and the thought unnerves me. Clearly, Colton’s role in this twisted game has an end date, one my father even alluded to. Tonight?

“Look at me, you little cunt—” He rips his hand from mine, forcing me to face him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What?” I try to keep my face blank, knowing the lack of fear will further enrage him. “You mean he didn’t tell you? That he sent another man to keep me company all night. Some husband you are. Doesn’t the Bible say that a man should guard his woman above all else?”

“You little...” He pulls his arm back, curling his hand into a fist—but then he stops. A flit of hesitation crosses his face as if he just remembered something crucial. Perhaps a warning uttered to him by Father in terms that he can’t ignore? He can’t touch me. Not tonight. There is a show to put on, after all, and it seems my father wants us both to look and play the part.

“It seems that you’re constantly taking orders when it comes to me,” I say, laughing as his cheeks redden. “Even now, you know that you will never be able to control me. Not one damn bit. You are nothing more than my father’s puppet.”

“Is that so?” His hand collides with my shoulder, spinning me around. As I sway to find my balance, pain sears through my scalp, and a glance in the nearby mirror reveals why—he ripped off my veil, pulling my hair out of its delicate coil. I can feel loose strands fall down my shoulders as tears prick my eyes. It hurts like hell, but I’d rather die than show it.

“You smart-mouthed little cunt,” he says, his voice rising. “You think he has you so protected? You have no idea how hard I had to fight for him to even keep you in the city and let you marry me. His original plans for you, Frances, were far more befitting. Thankfully, he realized that the money you could bring would make you more useful to keep alive, but don’t think that I can’t change his mind. All I have to do is walk away.”

“Then why don’t you?” I counter, turning to face him directly. “I’m sure he would love to give me to Silas. A man he actually trusts?—”

I hear the slap more than I really feel it. My vision goes black for a heartbeat, before returning in snatches. Brilliant stars still dance before my eyes as Colton reappears before me, adjusting his tie.

“You made me do that,” he grumbles, eyeing me with a look of utter disgust. “I’m sure your father will understand. From what I hear, your mother was a feisty one as well.”

Don’t, a part of me warns as anger washes over me. Don’t take the bait. Don’t let him rattle you.

Too late. As fresh blood drips from the reopened wound on my inner cheek, restraint seems damn near impossible to maintain. My situation resembles that of an animal trapped in a cage, about to be forced to decide between fighting to escape or submitting to death. It’s becoming clearer to me now more than ever. I won’t last the night here.

So, I decide to throw tact to the wind.

“Don’t worry, Colton.” Red liquid sprays as I speak, no doubt splattering over my exposed neckline. “I’m sure if you find me too feisty for you, you can help yourself to one of the poor women you have locked up on the property. My father told me all about them as well.”

For a split second, his face flashes with genuine concern. Panic takes root in my chest as I realize one chilling detail—I’ve caught him off guard. Could he not know?

“I’m sure you have no idea,” I rush to add. “Some important partner you are. You’re nothing more than a puppet dangling from a pretty string?—”

“Shut up!” Lightning fast, he slaps me again, but I manage to deflect the blow with the back of my hand. I feel riled. My skin heats as though a live wire is thrumming beneath it, prickling hot, ready to burn anything or anyone who dares to get too close. An unpleasant metallic taste is on my tongue, but it’s not blood. It’s anger. I wonder if this is what Daze feels in those moments of blackout rage. When he seemed like a creature possessed more than a man.

Do I have the same look in my eye? For some reason, the prospect doesn’t terrify me. I want to be like him.

“You deluded yourself, Colton,” I spit, laughing at his shocked expression. “You think that you matter, but you’re as disposable as I am. He told me so. You claimed you’d have dominion over me after the wedding. Do you want to know what my father said when I told him?” I force another cold laugh from my throat that sounds gleeful. Demonic. “He said that it won’t last very long. That you will never outrank him when it comes to me. Why do you think that is?”

“And did your father tell you that he’ll be lucky if he even survives tonight?” he asks in a hoarse hiss. “You think you know everything, you smug little bitch. Then you riddle me this—who needs your father if they can control access to your mother’s estate? Michael Heywood is a fading star. Do you know who could benefit politically from his demise, however? His grieving son-in-law. Don’t make the mistake of assuming that your father is the only one with ambitions, Frances.”

He shoves me back so hard I land on the bed, breathless. He steps forward to loom over me, cracking his knuckles one by one.

“I was going to wait until our wedding night to teach you the importance of obedience when it comes to your husband,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “But I think I’ll make an exception. After all, you’re already mine whether you want to believe it or not. Once I get your signature on the marriage certificate, you or your father won’t have any legal recourse. So why should I wait to see what my own wife has to offer?”

He snatches a handful of my skirt and wrenches it up. Cold air teases my skin before his groping fingers replace it, scratching and clawing. My mind goes blank, but not out of panic. A steely finality comes over me. This is it, it warns. You won’t get another chance. Hurting him won’t be enough this time. You need to kill…

The silk of my dress feels like sandpaper beneath my searching fingertips as they hunt for a hint of sharpness tucked within the lace. There. If I aim for Colton’s throat, it doesn’t matter how tiny my blade is—as long as I hit an artery. Swallowing hard, I start to wind the metal loose as Colton lunges toward me, raising his hand…

A knock rattles the door, attracting his attention just paces from me. “What is it?”

An unfamiliar voice replies. “Sir, everyone is meeting in the stables for the ceremony.”

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