Page 18 of Stolen Vows

She could cost me my family. And that means I have to be a whole lot more fucking careful when it comes to keep her under wraps.

She kicks her legs back against me, squirming in my arms, but it’s futile. She’s putting up far more of a fight now than she did on the day of her wedding. It strikes me suddenly, but that has to be because I’m not pressing a gun into her guts this time around. She twists her head around to face me, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Please, just let me go," she begs me. "I promise I’ll tell my father that you were good to me. I’ll make it so he’s got no reason to come after you, I swear, I?—"

I can’t help but let out a short bark of laughter, though there is little mirth in it.

"You think your father is capable of showing mercy?” I snap at her, as I lift her into my arms. She reluctantly puts her arms around my shoulders, her feet and legs clearly too sore to risk walking any further.

"You don’t know him like I do," she protests. "You could—I mean, he’s not all that..."

She trails off as she stares back at me. I guess she must be able to tell that I am not buying a word that comes out of her mouth right now, and I have no intention of starting. I have no idea what she really knows about her father, how much she is ignorant of, and how much she is just lying about. She might think he’s a decent man, but I know what lurks underneath.

She slumps against my chest, and I can feel the fight slipping out of her body. She couldn’t have really thought she would get far with no shoes and nothing to protect her against the cold, could she? Maybe she’s that naive. Maybe her father really has kept her hidden away for so long that she doesn’t know what the real world is like.

Or even the world that she is a part of.

I plant her back on her feet once we’re out of the woods and back at the cabin. I’m going to give her the chance to prove to me that she’s not going to run again. It’s not like I trust her, but I need her to think there’s a chance for her to repair the damage she’s done here today.

She looks back at me for a moment, her eyes wide with fear. Her hair is a mess, leaves and twigs tangled into it, her arms bloodied and scratched to shit from her attempt to flee through the woods. A far cry from the woman I grabbed from her wedding, the one who was perfectly put together, ready to walk down the aisle and accept her place at the side of a bastard almost as bad as her father.

But there is something about the way she looks at me that tells me that she’s the same woman. Not just in the way she physically appears, but in her eyes. There is some kind of defiance there, some fight, as though she is warning me that she is not going to make this easy for me.

Whatever it is, it vanishes almost as soon as I notice it. Her shoulders slump down, and she stalks to the cabin, her head hanging to her chest, her hair falling into her face.

I follow her inside, and double-check that the door is locked behind her. I need to repair the damage done to the bathroom and make certain that I have some sort of surveillance on this place, so I can keep watch on her if she tries to make another break for it. I didn’t want to mount cameras here originally, worried that her father might find some way to hack into them, but I will find a way to install something to keep watch over her from here on out.

In that instant, I start to believe that her little escape attempt is over. But then, before I can say another word, she rounds on me, and the rage in her eyes tells me everything I need to know.

She is far from done with me yet. And if I thought I was getting away with dragging her back here like a hunter with their newfound prey... I was wrong.

"I need a shower."

I let out a snort.

"You think I’m going to let you in there, after what you did?”

She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I’m a mess. I need to clean myself up."

I look her up and down; she’s not wrong. But, after what she just pulled, she’s hardly in any place to be laying down demands.

"Back to your room. Now."

I leave no room for argument in my tone, but she doesn’t budge an inch. She’s clearly feeling defiant right now, like some kind of errant teenager. But I am not her father, and she can’t pull this entitled shit here. Here she’s under my command, and she needs to learn that.

"I’m not going to my room until I have something to eat and clean myself up."

"You think you’re in any place to be making demands?” I growl at her as I close the distance between us, the fury temporarily getting the better of me. I just had to run through the forest to bring this girl back where she belongs, and she’s speaking to me like I’m the one who fucked up. It’s infuriating, to say the least,and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep myself in check.

"I think you need me alive for some reason," she shoots back. "And I guess that means you don’t want me getting an infection in one of these cuts and having to cut my arm off or something..."

She gestures to the scratches along her arms.

"So I suggest you let me clean myself up, and then we can talk."

I almost laugh at how fucking bold she is. The way she talks to me is like she thinks she calls the shots here. I stalk a little closer to her, our faces just a few inches apart. She doesn’t draw back, staring me down as though she doesn’t want to give me an inch, though I can see that she is shaking slightly, her bottom lip trembling as she tries to hold my gaze.

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