Wrecking Ball, page 3
“Safe space or prison?” I question, one eyebrow raised.
He chuckles and the sound does nothing to dampen the fact that despite what he is making me do, I still wouldn’t mind fucking him.
“You know, you’re getting a pretty good deal here. I could make you sleep in my bed; I could make you conform to all my wishes, but with time, I know you’ll get there on your own,” he says, and I scoff.
“Oh please, you’re living in a dream world,” I retort, because as much as I may want to fuck him, I’ll never do it.
“Never hurts to dream and then work like fuck to get what you want,” he says, his easy demeanour changing in an instant.
“Hmm. I guess when you have the means to threaten others to get what you want, it’s easier, huh?” I say, because I can’t help but bite back at him.
I don’t fail to miss the clench of his jaw at my words.
He takes a step closer to me, and another, until he’s leaning down slightly so that we’re eye level. “If it helps people to see what they truly can become, then yes.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
Is he talking about me?
Before I can respond, he straightens himself back up and says, “My room is the one across the hall,” before he waltzes out and disappears down the hallway.
I turn in a circle, my eyes roaming over every bit of the room again.
So, this is my life.
Plush surroundings and a husband-to-be that confuses me at every turn.
Great.
He never made me sleep in the same bed as him, giving me my own room to help me feel like I had a safe space. That was the first glimpse at a softer side that I saw from him.
There haven’t been many tender moments between us, but this one right now will forever mark my memories.
And when he pulls his lips away and brings the hand that was holding my chin to my cheek, cupping it and brushing the tear that has escaped away with his thumb, it makes my heart ache because this isn’t real. This is some sick game that I am a mere participant in, and that makes me want to cry a goddamn river.
I bite my bottom lip hard to stop myself from showing him anymore weakness.
“Half an hour and then we can leave,” he says quietly, his eyes not leaving mine.
I nod my head and then the moment is over as his hand drops and we both turn towards our guests.
Our guests.
Our life together, and it’s all a lie.
* * *
Nate
Fuck. Seeing her upset makes me wonder what the hell is going on in that head of hers. She looks so fucking miserable, and I know that it’s because of me, but I also know that I won’t let her go. So, for my sins, I will suffer seeing her like this until I make her cry with laughter.
One day, this will all make sense to her, but not yet.
I haven’t even begun to show her the real world we all live in. She needs to see it and realise that there are very few people you can count on in this life. Most are out for themselves and will put their life above yours. People are selfish, and I guess I’m no different. But I’m only selfish with her because I need to be.
Twelve minutes until I can get her out of here.
Twelve minutes until we can go home and she can try to shut herself off from me again.
That kiss just now was unexpected. I didn’t have a plan to kiss her like that, and I sure as hell didn’t expect her to respond. But now I know that she doesn’t completely hate me, and I have to work on that in order to get her to see that I am not the monster that she thinks I am.
Eleven minutes and counting.
The plates have been cleared away and the guests are drinking their final glass of champagne before they switch to spirits for the remainder of the evening. I won’t be here to see it, and I couldn’t give a shit, if I’m being honest. Highly unpractical to leave your own wedding early and miss the evening part, but my life is anything but practical. I do what I want, when I want, and no fucker will ever question me about it. Except maybe Stefan, but he soon gets told.
Stefan is sat the other side of me, and I turn to him and inform him that we will be leaving in nine minutes time. He gets up and starts to prepare our men for our exit.
This may be a wedding, but there is no way I was taking any chances––today of all days––when it comes to safety. There are men out there that want to gut me like a fish, so my guys are always on hand to watch my back, and now my wife’s.
Eight minutes. I am starting to wonder why the hell I didn’t just fly us out of here and to some private beach where we could have gotten married on the sand, the sound of the waves in the background, and no fucking people there to bother us.
Seven minutes, and oh fuck me, here comes Zoey. Jesus, she’s like a bloody noose around my neck at times.
“Hey, bro,” Zoey says as she slides into Stefan’s seat by the side of me.
“Zoey,” I say, knowing damn well she’s seen Stefan doing the rounds and that she is going to try and keep us here.
“Don’t be so bloody formal, Nate, it’s me, your sister, not the fucking queen,” she says, and I hear a soft chuckle from the other side of me. I’ll take that over Kat’s tears any day. Zoey is thirty-one and full of fucking mischief, and I don’t need her bringing that mischief around my new bride. Zoey can be very persuasive when she needs to be, and I don’t think it would take much for her and Kat to form some sort of fucking alliance just to try and get under my skin.
“Why are you preparing to leave already? I haven’t even had a chance to speak to your wife… you know, the one you never thought to mention until the invitation came through the post, and the one I am yet to meet properly,” Zoey says, her tone taking on a sarcastic edge and showing just how pissed off with me she is.
“I had my reasons,” I respond.
“Which were what?”
“Never you mind.” It’s all she’s getting because in four minutes, I’ll be out of here and away from her interrogation.
“Not good enough, Nate. We’re family, and family should stick together,” she says.
“Yes, Zoey, they should, but it’s not always the case, as you full well know,” I bite back.
“Don’t you dare bring up fucking Lucas at your own wedding,” she scolds me, and I instantly know that I have fucked up by even hinting at a man that should have been here today. Lucas. Our brother, and the bastard that killed our mum and dad, hoping that he would take control of their empire. Little did he know that the empire was always meant for me.
Lucas hurt both of us when he killed our parents, and then he tried to twist the knife in further by framing me for a drug deal gone wrong. Luckily, I had an alibi and Lucas didn’t cover his tracks very well, so his shit plans went up in smoke. Shame he isn’t burning in hell along with his shitty plans. He escaped and has clearly gotten better at planning because I can’t track the shady fucker down, but I will, one day. I will never give up looking for him because he deserves to pay for his sins, and I want to be the one that collects.
Two minutes.
“Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” Zoey says, breaking me from my thoughts.
I stare at her blankly and she rolls her eyes at me.
“For goodness sake’s, brother.” She sighs. “I’ll be round tomorrow night at eight.”
“What for?” I ask.
“For dinner, duh.”
“You can’t.”
“Why the hell not?” she says, and my eyes flit to the clock to see that I have one minute before I can be out of here.
“Sorry, sis, gotta go,” I say and stand up, grabbing Kat’s hand and pulling her up from her seat. She looks shocked as I position her next to me, my arm around her waist, pulling her in close to my body. Dear God, she fits next to me like a glove.
“Nate,” Zoey says as she pouts and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Talk soon, sis,” I say with a smirk as I whisk my bride away and across the room to where Stefan is waiting by the door.
Kat doesn’t say a word as I take her outside and into the car waiting.
I shake hands with Stefan––who escorted us out––and then we’re off, down the driveway and heading in the direction of our home to start our new life together as man and wife.
Chapter Six
Kat
I don’t know what I’m feeling… well, I do, but I know that I shouldn’t be feeling anything for the bastard sat next to me. My husband. My fucking keeper––because that is what he is, and that is why he has me here. To keep me. To make me suffer, all in the name of a goddamn debt.
But just now, before we got into this car, he was different.
That kiss.
The genuine look in his eyes.
The way he made me feel something other than disgust… ugh, as I said, bastard.
I keep my eyes trained out of the window, not wanting to risk looking at him because I’m scared of what I might see.
I saw it back at the wedding reception… the slight hint of something other than hate.
I’ve never actually asked him if he hates me, I’ve just presumed that he does because there is no other reason for wanting to make me marry him against my will.
If we had met on different terms, then maybe things would have been different. I mean, there is no denying that he is handsome, sexy, and charm personified––and he bloody well knows it. His sea-green eyes, his perfectly chiselled jaw with slight stubble, his broad shoulders, his muscular physique and his perfect ass… I’m not blind and I can appreciate a handsome man, but what I can’t appreciate is this whole scenario.
If we had met in a bar, at a restaurant, in a goddamn club, then maybe things could have been different, but they’re not and here we are, both about to embark on a fake-ass marriage that will probably end up with us both being utterly miserable.
Great.
Adulting at its finest.
I watch as the scenery passes, people walking hand-in-hand, groups of youngsters hanging out, a few people on their own just walking and passing the time to get to where they need to go. And here I am, in a wedding dress, and I should be feeling like the happiest woman in the world, but I’m not.
I’ve never been someone who bows down and takes shit from anyone… well, anyone except Clark because he shit on me from a great height and left me to face the music. I already feel like I am going to become someone that I hate, and I don’t know what to do with that.
I wish I could speak to Clark and ask him why… why the hell did he do this to us? Why on earth would he betray me in such a cruel way and leave me to face the big bad wolf alone? But of course, there is no sight of him anywhere, and I exhausted all options to try and find him because he doesn’t want to be found.
He couldn’t help me now anyway, so there would be no point.
I guess I just feel like I have no closure. One minute he was there, and the next, he was gone.
One minute he was my life, and the next, he wasn’t.
Being an only child and having no family of my own left has clearly made me more vulnerable than I realised. I thought that Clark loved me, I thought that we were happy, but clearly, he was hiding secrets that I will never know the answers to, and that pisses me off.
The rage bubbles away inside of me, mixed with sadness and a desire to be the woman that I always thought I was. I want to be strong; I want to live my life the way I choose, but plans change, and we can’t all live out our life-long dreams.
Mine was to run a business with my partner, it was to settle down, have kids, maybe get a puppy and spend weekends at the beach thinking about how lucky I was… but that dream went up in smoke the day that Clark asked me to go and meet with Nate and ask him for money. I should have listened to my gut and stayed away, but with Clark’s credit rating being total shit, we never could have borrowed enough money legitimately, so I had no choice but to go crawling to a crime lord.
His words have come back to haunt me every day since…
“You go, it will be better coming from you,” Clark said.
“Why?” I questioned.
“Because you’re a hot woman and you are more business minded than me.”
“Oh gee, thanks,” I replied sarcastically with a roll of my eyes.
“Even if you weren’t hot, you know what to say and how to talk business, whereas I am no good at anything like that,” he said, sadness lacing his tone. He dropped his head, and I could only presume it was in disappointment at himself.
“Hey,” I said as I moved towards him and crouched down in front of him, gently placing my hand on his knee. “Stop that, you don’t need to be so hard on yourself all the time.”
“I just feel like I fail you at every turn, and I’m so sorry, Kat. I wish I could be the man that you deserve––”
“You are the man I deserve,” I tell him, cutting him off. “I will sort this, and I will go and see Nate. You don’t need to worry about anything. As long as we have each other, that’s all that matters,” I tell him, knowing that I will try to ease his worries in any way that I can, and if going to see Nate helps him feel better then that’s good enough for me.
“I love you, Kat,” he said, his eyes glistening.
“I love you too.”
Pfft. What a twat. I fell for his lies and the bullshit excuses each and every time.
He didn’t love me. He used me. He made me believe that I was his whole world, when really, I was his fucking bank balance.
I hope that wherever he is, he’s suffering, because that’s what he deserves.
He doesn’t deserve to live a good and honest life because he is a liar and an asshole. Yes, I hold bitterness because it is my fucking right to do so, and no, forgiveness isn’t always the way forward. I swear to God, if I ever see him again, I won’t be responsible for my actions.
“Kat,” I hear Nate say at the same time as I feel his hand gently rest on my knee. I turn my head to look at him, and I hate that there is a part of me that can visualise falling for this rotten bastard.
“We’re home,” he says, and the word hits me like a tonne of bricks.
Home.
Man and wife.
Fuck.
I take a deep breath and the car door opens. I make my way out of the car to see that Nate’s driver, Jay, is stood by the door, waiting for me to get out. I stand tall, trying to inject some life into me as Nate comes to stand at the side of me, his hand going to the small of my back.
Oh God, I can’t have him anywhere near me with his intoxicating scent fucking with my senses. I move forwards and away from his touch, thanking Jay as I walk past him and to the front door of my prison for the next however the fuck long it might be until I find a way to leave.
“Thank you, Jay,” I hear Nate say, and I grit my teeth as I push the front door open. We don’t need to carry keys because the security knows we’re here and I’m well acquainted with the security system that notifies of everyone who comes and goes from this place. I swear there is some guy sat in a little control booth just watching the fucking front door all day and night long, waiting for the moment he can push the button to open the door and have something to do. The thought almost makes me laugh as I make my way up the stairs and to my room.
I don’t wait for Nate, and I have no intention of coming back out of my bedroom tonight. I don’t trust myself not to give in to the fucking want that has plagued me since that kiss at the reception.
I pause a few steps away from my bedroom door and my hand moves to my face, my fingertips touching my lips as I recall the one and only genuine moment I have had with Nate. Why the fuck am I so emotional today? I’ve held it together pretty well over the last six months, but today, all of my bravado seems to be unravelling, and I have no idea why.
“You okay?” I hear him say from close behind me, and I close my eyes, willing the goddamn emotions to piss off so I can carry on being the cold-hearted bitch that I have become over the last few months.
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before replying, “I’m good.”
“I don’t think you are though…” he says, his voice trailing off as I whirl around, my dress swishing around my legs, my emotions ready to bubble over.
“Do you not?” I retort, hands on my hips.
“No, I don’t,” he says as he takes a couple of steps towards me.
“And why on earth would you think that? Because you haven’t given a shit about my feelings for the last six months,” I argue, getting more and more angry the closer he gets to me.
Before I know what is happening, he’s on me, pushing me back against the wall, one of his hands by the side of my head, the other around my neck as he bends down slightly, his eyes coming level with mine.
“Stop with the potty mouth,” he scolds, but somewhere in the last few seconds, a fire has lit inside of me, and whatever lit it needs to stay because I need to feel something other than confusion and loneliness, even if it’s just for a minute.
“Or what?” I challenge him, a smirk playing on my lips.
“Don’t fucking push me,” he growls, his body pushing against mine, not an inch of space between us.
“But you can swear all you like?” I question.
“Yes,” he replies, no hesitation.
“No fucking deal,” I say with a smile on my face, knowing that this will piss him off. What I expect to get from this, I’m not sure, but I know that fire inside of me is bubbling away nicely, waiting to explode like a fucking inferno.
His face comes closer, his lips hovering above mine. If I were to push forward, we would be locking lips… why does that thought make my pussy tingle? Shit. I need to focus on the hate that I feel for this man, channel it and hold onto it forever.
“You trying to test me, wife?” he says, his voice low, dangerous, and so fucking delicious that it turns those flames up a little bit more. If he kisses me, I’m not sure that I will be able to stop it.
“I’m going to test you… Every. Fucking. Day,” I reply, dragging out the last three words. I’m poking the beast, and it’s the most alive I’ve felt in months.
