Page 39 of Brutal Knight

Connor

The second I hear the doors slam open, my hands clench. I don’t have a gun with me, but I know there’s family in the crowd that do. I calculate how long it would take to get to the back door, but all the math is thrown out when I think about Willow in her dress. She won’t be able to keep up.

All those immediate thoughts die when I see the figure at the back of the church. The man takes three steps in, and each one sounds like a nail going into a coffin.

Edward Channing, Willow’s father, strides into the church, flanked by several men.

“You’re a thief,” he bellows, one finger pointed at me. “And you have no right to marry my daughter!”

The tension that began to simmer when the doors slammed open has turned into an open boil by now. People in the pews are reaching for hidden weapons, on edge. The faces looking up at me aren’t happy or even polite anymore. They’re serious. Dangerous.

There are a lot of Assembly members in attendance. If shooting breaks out, it’ll be a bloodbath.

I’m prepared for the worst.

Thankfully, Lachlan steps out of line from behind me. He takes the stairs casually, like he has all the time in the world. I can see through him. I’m his brother. I know just how calculated every movement is.

But he’s putting everyone at ease, just like he knows he can. He has to defuse the situation.

“Well. I guess it wouldn’t be a wedding without some excitement,” he says, smiling.

There’s a very small ripple of laughter. I can already see Aiden and Finn moving toward the door, Jamie close behind. They manage to slip away with little attention. Everyone’s focused on Lachlan and Edward.

“Why don’t we speak privately?” Lachlan asks, lowering his voice as he approaches Edward. There’s just enough hardness in his tone to allow no argument.

Our cousin Tristan appears suddenly, emerging from behind the door with Jamie. “We have a room ready.”

Edward glances over his shoulder, tense when he hears someone behind him. The anger in his eyes doesn’t fade, but his mouth twists into a scowl and he nods curtly. “Then let’s speak.”

Willow follows when I leave the altar. The ceremony is frozen behind us, people murmuring in their seats already as we leave the room.

Tristan holds the door as we gather in a side room, crowding into the relatively small space. Edward is already agitated, hands on his hips as he paces. The doors shut behind us and he immediately begins to speak.

“This will not happen,” Edward growls. He slashes a hand sideways, making his point as flat as possible.

His tone doesn’t invite conversation, but we’ve never been ones to roll over.

“Let’s walk things backward a moment,” Lachlan says evenly. There’s a thin veil of politeness in his voice, but I know he’s pissed. “I’m sure there’s a way we all leave satisfied. After all, no reason to spoil the day.”

Edward snorts. I ignore him—I couldn’t give a shit about him—and glance at Willow.

There’s something wrong with her.

She’s silent. I didn’t expect this silence. I thought maybe she would be ecstatic. I thought when the doors shut, she’d rush to hug him, or maybe hide behind him. After all, he’s saving her from us.

From me.

I try to see if she’s faking her indifference just for me, just in case this goes badly and she still has to marry me. But the lack of warmth from Willow isn’t fake. Neither is the way she seems to just shut down.

I’ve never seen her like this, not even when she was first in my house. I’ve never seen Willow so dead, so closed off from everything. It’s like she’s scared.

Like she’s terrified.

She doesn’t move from where she’s standing, holding herself perfectly still, as if she’s imitating a painting of a bride. I try to keep half an eye on her while Lachlan keeps trying to negotiate with Edward.

“She is my property,” Edward hisses. “With her husband dead, she belongs to me. It is my right to choose what is done.”

He talks like she’s a thing and not a woman with a heart and mind of her own. It irks me. I can tell it bothers my brothers too. Our mother taught us better than to treat women like objects.

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