Page 29 of Brutal Knight

“You don’t have a choice about the wedding,” I say. “But I won’t take any more choices from you. I promise.”

Something flickers behind the dead shadows in Willow’s eyes. I can see how removed she is from this—from the moment. I’m sure she’s been avoiding thinking about the reality of the situation. She’s probably spent her entire time sobering up pretending that when it ends, she’ll be free.

I hate to be the one to shatter her fantasy, but it’s not going to help either of us if she keeps pretending. There are people who would love to take Willow. People who would be far less kind to her.

There’s never going to be a good time to tell her that this is final. There’s never going to be a nice way to tell her that she can’t get away from this.

I can’t coddle her. I know she’s survived worse. I also know telling her she has no choice will only make her hate me more, but I can’t help that. All I can do is hope that she eventually doesn’t hate me, although I know she may never like me.

“I’m not a fucking monster,” I say lowly. “I’m not going to abuse you. But you need to accept that this marriage is going to happen. You need to stop fucking running.”

They’re harsh words, but I’m not going to pull my punches. Not now.

We don’t have time. There are people after her, and this is the only way to ensure that the Ravens can formally pass on to my family. That’s the most important thing.

I want to help her, but I know she might not trust me to do that. So all I can do is get her sober and keep her that way, keep her safe while we wait for the wedding.

I turn and leave her in the room, then lock the door. I know she probably isn’t listening. I can’t take the chance that she’s going to run again.

The sound of the lock clicking grates at my nerves, and I wish I didn’t have to do it. I let my head drop against the wood for a second, cursing under my breath. What I wouldn’t give to make this just a little goddamn easier.

Pressure is setting in from every side—from my family, from her, from the people trying to take her. I wish I could stop time and get everything in order. I feel like I haven’t stopped in weeks. I’ve been running as much as she has, running after her.

I want her trust more than anything.

But I know I’ll probably never fucking have it.

CHAPTER11

Willow

Once, when I was a teenager, I went to a pool party with friends. A friend of mine dropped her cover-up in the water. It twisted like ink, gauzy and transparent. Every time I tried to grab it, it seemed to slip out of my fingers.

It feels like that with Connor. For just a moment, I felt like I had found something, like I had a grip on this strange situation. I don’t anymore.

I don’t even know what I had. I don’t know if it was something good or just a façade. I wanted it to be real. I believed it was real, for a fleeting moment. I thought I’d found a man I could trust, a man who was different.

But then everything slipped away again, and I’m right back to not knowing if he actually cares about me.

His words when he left me were harsh, but they weren’t wrong. I’ve known for a while that I can’t actually escape the marriage. Each time I tried to run, I wasn’t really thinking about the future. I was only thinking of being free, thinking of not being locked in a cage.

Every time I ran, it was some almost-dead part of me that drove me to flee. Some part of me that still dreams of someone swooping in and saving me, taking me far from all this mess.

But that hasn’t happened. And when I gave in to Connor and tried to handle him the way I handled Dmitri, it all fell apart.

For the next two days after the moment in the hall, I’m back to being locked up in the bedroom.

Connor brings me food the same way he did when I was detoxing. This time, I don’t cling to him the way I did when I was out of it. I don’t look forward to seeing him when he walks through the door. I don’t even talk to him.

I can’t stop thinking about what happened between us, the look on his face when I was on my knees. When I had him in my mouth, he looked at me in a way I’ve never been looked at. There was awe in his eyes. Desire.

It made me feel something.

I normally feel nothing. I’m used to being a doll, fucked any way Dmitri likes. I was an object to him and nothing more. I don’t expect pleasure from sex.

When I was younger, sex was a nightmare. I thought that would change. I thought there would finally be a man, a husband, who would give me what all the movies and books talked about. I thought there would be a man who would break the endless chain of pain and horror.

I thought I’d have that before I married Dmitri. Then he hurt me, and I realized pleasure was never meant for me.

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