Page 4 of Wretched Heart
“Maddison, stay where you are!” Hugo screams as his sister bolts.
He manages to grab Maddison’s veil, but with one tug and a cry from the bride, it rips from her hair. She keeps going, and Hugo is about to take up the chase when I shoot out an arm and grab him by his silk cravat.
“You and I have business to discuss,” I tell him absentmindedly as I glance over my shoulder to Maddison’s retreating form. It’s time to close things down. “Jake, let her go, then lock the doors.”
“You’re trapping us in here?” asks Alice Emerson.
“Believe me, not out of choice,” I say. “But I think the least the bride deserves is a head start.”
Chapter 2
Maddison
As I race towards the chapel doors, I swallow the bile rising up in my throat. I’d been nervous from the moment I opened my eyes this morning. Deep in my gut, I knew nothing good would come of this day.
In the three weeks since I accepted Barrett’s proposal, my fiancé had made all the right noises about our future plans, but I’m not sure I ever believed him. Or is that just what I’m telling myself now in an attempt to soften my crushing humiliation?
I’m about to slam my palms against the closed chapel doors when they swing open and I barrel into a solid wall of muscle. As I press my hands against the man’s hard chest, I feel the unmistakable form of a gun in a shoulder holster. I’m tempted to slip my hand inside his suit jacket and make a grab for it. I could storm back into the chapel. But then what would I do? Who the hell would I aim the gun at first?
An image forms of the smiling assassin in his beautifully tailored suit. I have no idea who Hunter is, or what interest he could possibly have in my wedding, but he hadn’t eventried to hide the pleasure he took in playing out his twisted games in front of all my family and friends. Well, actually, minimal family and a select handful of staff from the mill. I’m not good at maintaining friendships. Nor do I seem capable of holding onto a fiancé.
Righting myself isn’t easy in my elaborate wedding dress. It was the one thing I refused to comprise on – if there was no time to organize the wedding of my dreams, I was still going to look the part. Unfortunately, Hugo took it upon himself to find his sister’s ‘perfect’ wedding dress, and if I’m honest, I felt a bit of a fool when I made my entrance into the chapel. But it’s my exit that beats all.
Teetering in my high-heel satin shoes, I take a gulp of fresh air to fight the wave of nausea.
“There’s a car waiting for you,” the man with the gun says, maneuvering past the wide skirt of my dress to firmly close the chapel doors behind me.
I look to where he gestures. The path from the chapel leads to an ivy-covered archway, and beyond that, a blacked-out SUV. The rear passenger door opens and yet another man in a dark suit climbs out. He has deep brown hair the same shade as Hunter’s. His shoulders aren’t quite as broad, or his thighs as wide, but he still looks powerful enough to snap me in two. The cold stare in his eyes suggests he might.
I stumble down the path towards him because, at this point, my options are limited unless I want to return to the chapel. I take in more of his appearance as I draw closer. His strong jaw and high cheekbones remind me of the man who’s just ruined my wedding – because despite our brief interaction, Hunter’s image is already burned into my memory, and will undoubtedly haunt my dreams for years to come.
There’s definitely a familial link betweenHunter and this new predator. They have the same deep green eyes, like damp moss, but at least Hunter’s eyes had been playful – if only in the way a cat looks at a mouse. This man’s dark eyes are cold, and an icy shudder runs down my spine as I slip beneath the archway. My feet refuse to take another step.
“Move,” he hisses, as my latest assailant grabs my elbow to tug me towards the car.
I let out a high-pitched scream and my would-be kidnapper loosens his grasp. I know the basics of self-defense, and although I’ve never put any of it into practice before, it’s time to fight back. I bend my elbow to a sharpened point and ram it into his stomach. He isn’t expecting the move, and doubles over with a cry of his own.
As I’m stepping around him, he straightens up and glowers.
“Get in the fucking car. Now.”
There’s no way I’m getting into a mobster’s car – because surely that’s what they are. These men certainly don’t abide by normal societal rules. I hold his gaze. “No. Damn. Way.”
My dress swishes as I spin on my heels. The sidewalk is thankfully clear ahead, and I prepare to run. There’s a brief tug as a hand grabs the fabric of my puffed-out dress, but my assailant can’t get a good enough hold. Maybe I hurt him more than I thought. I break into a sprint.
I’ve been practicing walking in high heels since puberty, but running in them is new. Fortunately, I seem to have a natural ability, and I listen for the sounds of pursuit as I shoot down the road, gathering up my skirts as I go. Someone is chasing me, but their footfalls are soft against earth rather than the sidewalk. It’s the doorman, and he’s cutting across the chapel grounds to get to me.
“Leave her, Jake!” the other man barks. “We’d only get suffocated trying to get that ridiculous dress in the car.”
I don’t turn to check if Jake follows his orders. I just put as much distance as I can between me and everything I’m leaving behind. I make random turns, slipping down side streets to make it more difficult for someone to track me. I run until I can’t run any more.
I must be blocks away when I stumble to a stop and fight to catch my breath. The chapel is just outside of Bloomington, far enough away from my hometown of Brimstage not to worry about being spotted by someone I know. But I am attracting a lot of attention.
I’m in a busy part of town, surrounded by offices and coffee shops, and there are countless faces staring out of windows and pointing at me. I need to get off the streets. I don’t want to be found. Not yet. Not when I don’t know who’ll come after me. Will it be Hunter? Or the man who tried to drag me into the SUV? Or will it be my brother, Hugo?
The only person I don’t expect to give chase is Barrett. My fiancé hadn’t exactly made a stand inside the chapel. He’d offered no defense and no argument to keep me. Damn it, my one job was to marry someone who could help save the paper mill, and Barrett had promised to do just that. During our video calls in recent weeks, he’d listened to my ideas with genuine interest. Except it hadn’t been genuine at all.
It was Hugo who had negotiated the terms of my marriage. The engagement had been indecently swift, born out of desperation to save the company we’d inherited, but still. My brother was supposed to have carried out due diligence. He’s chair of the board as well as head of our family.It was his responsibility to make sure Barrett would keep his promises.
