Page 34 of Forced Alpha Bride
“So are you taking it, boss?” Flint asks.
“Of course I am. But did you really drown my truck?”
“No,” he answers, chuckling. “She’s parked back at our old camp. Don’t worry.”
“Good. I’ve had that truck longer than I’ve known you.”
“I’m well-aware I’m not your favorite,” Flint jokes. “Now get out of here.”
Letting go of Winnie, I watch carefully as she gets in the car, not relaxing until she shuts the door behind her.
Should I lock it? Would she really jump out while the car is moving?
I glance over at her as I start the engine, and she looks calm, staring out the window as if she’s bored. Most of her bruises have faded, and her skin is a perfect, creamy white, set in a pleasing contrast against the deep red of her hair and the fresh green of the dress.
I try to think of something to say, but it quickly becomes obvious there is no way to start a casual conversation with someone you just kidnapped.
Talking has never been my thing. If in doubt, I just punch my way out. That can’t help me here.
I let the silence deepen, glaring out the windshield at the setting sun. I don’t want this to be awkward, but Winnie isn’t giving me much choice.
When I pull up in front of the townhouse, I feel strange, like I’m trespassing. This building has been the home of the alpha for generations. Technically owned by the Brents, but now freely given to me as the winner of the alpha’s challenge.
I’ve never even stayed in a house this nice, let alone lived in one.
“Is this your place?” Winnie asks.
“It is now. I haven’t actually been inside.”
“Oh, right. This is the private residence in town. Krista mentioned it, but I don’t think they ever used it.”
“Well, it’s mine now,” I mutter defensively.
“Of course it is,” Winnie retorts with an edge of sarcasm.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, sighing.
I get out of the car and walk closely behind Winnie, still wary that she might run.
Was it a good idea to take the ropes off? But it didn’t feel right having her restrained during the ceremony.
I take the big silver key and put it in the lock, a bit amused by the screech and groan the door makes when I shove it open.
Just like a real fairytale castle.
“Wow, it must have been a while since anyone’s come in here,” Winnie remarks, walking into the foyer. “That door could use some oil.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Cleaners came through yesterday, I think, but they would have gone through the back. I suppose I’ll get a handyman in to look at a few things.”
As I watch Winnie turn around slowly to admire the paintings on the wall, the full reality of living in a house like this hits me. I suddenly feel like I’m drowning in a cesspool of arbitrary shit that I never even knew existed.
At Grandpa’s cabin, if a roof plank fell off, I just nailed on a new one. If a window broke, I covered it. We didn’t even really clean the place. I’ve been in this fancy house for ten fucking seconds, and already it looks like too much work!
“We should head to the kitchen,” I suggest. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure,” Winnie answers, turning to go down the hall. I follow her, flicking on lights as I go and getting a sinking feeling as I see how big the place really is.
Do I really have to live here? I feel like I’m going to get lost. I was more at home out in the abandoned cabin.
