Page 5 of Married into the Mob
“No way am I getting married to anyone, especially some creep I’ve never met.”
My uncle grabbed my arm, but I tossed him off and stormed into the kitchen.
“You don’t understand.” He was at my heels, badgering me about how our financial woes would be at an end if I agreed to the union.
“You can file for divorce after…” His brow furrowed as his voice trailed away.
“That makes no sense. A guy wants to marry me to absolve you of a debt, and after we say ‘I do,’ he’ll shrug and say. ‘Your debt’s paid and you’re free to divorce me?’”
Uncle’s face fell. “Maybe after a few months. He said once you were married, you could come back to us.”
The guy had suckered Uncle into debt and didn’t have a significant other, and yet somehow me marrying him would pay off Uncle’s debt.
“Make it make sense!” I tugged at my hair and yanked out a few strands before pushing past Uncle and heading to my room. But I changed my mind as I needed air. Instead, I grabbed my running shoes.
“Don’t go, love.” Aunt Louisa took my hands.
“I need to jog, even for an hour, and forget tonight happened.”
“He didn’t tell you everything.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “I’m not meeting the guy for coffee or dinner. We’re not hanging out.” I unlocked the door and strode into the hallway.
I pushed the elevator button once, twice, and a third time, my fear and disappointment channeling through my stabby fingers. Perhaps I should use the stairs. I knew every creak and groan in the elevator, and I always counted the floors when we chugged down so I didn’t panic in the small space. Besides, I knew how to wrench both doors apart. I’d done it more than once.
“The wedding.”
“No wedding. We’ll go to the police. Uncle can wear a wire, get the guy to incriminate himself.”
“It’s tomorrow.”
The elevator doors opened, and I saw my future in the scuffed floor and the scratched doors, marked with grubby fingerprints. If I stepped into them, I’d never return. Peoplelived on the street, begged for food, or stayed a night or two in a shelter. That was an option. My only one.
“If you want to leave, I’ll give you whatever money we have. But…”
Aunt Louisa and I were thinking alike. And I was tempted. Two steps and I’d be in the elevator.
But I couldn’t do it, not only because of the anguished look on her face. If I ran away, what would happen to her? Instead, I strode into the apartment.
My aunt shooed Uncle to bed, and she and I sat together, arms around one another, and didn’t sleep. She said she’d call the school and say I was sick. Next week was vacation, so it gave me time to figure out where my life was headed, which at the moment was a deep dark hole.
There was a knock at the door. Him! He knew where we lived. If I’d run, they both would have suffered.
I had to shower the grime off from the day before. Weirdly, I didn’t want to greet my prospective husband, stinking of last night’s chicken and floor cleaner.
The luke-warm shower washed away my tears but more of the salty droplets filled my eyes as I dressed and marched into the main room.
Nothing prepared me for the guy towering over my aunt and uncle. Uncle was trying to speak, but my aunt shushed him.
The newcomer’s jet-black hair paired with the probing blue eyes sent shivers up and down my spine. But worse was him ogling me as if I was a possession. There was something behind his gaze, something ancient and dark, and I grabbed Aunt Louisa, my palm damp with sweat, and she stuffed a tissue in my hand.
“Draven!” His name described him perfectly.
THREE
HUNTER
Draven!
