Page 8

Story: Bloody Wedding

“No,” is my hesitant answer. “I haven’t.”

Dallas reaches behind him, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s call him.”

Dad didn’t answer his phone any of the times that I did, but when Dallas dials the number?

He picks up on the second ring.

“Mr. Dougherty. It’s Dallas. I have someone who wants to talk to you.” Pulling the phone away from his ear, he jerks his chin at me. “Come on. Daddy wants to say ‘hi’.”

My stomach twists. The invitation was bad enough. But this? I don’t like this.

Still, I know better than to refuse. As defiantly as I can at the moment, I stalk over to him, snatching the phone before holding it up to my head. “Dad? Is that you?”

“Loni.”

It’s just my name. The nickname I stubbornly clung to after Mom died because she thought Avalon was too prissy and I was her Loni. The only one who’s called me that in years… until Dallas Collins followed me to this rundown Quick Stop.

It’s just my name, but I can hear the resignation in it.

My eyes shutter closed. “You knew about this.”

There’s a long pause on Dad’s end before he sighs. “I didn’t have a choice.”

I squeeze the phone, a rush of anger flashing through me. “Bullshit.”

“Loni—”

“No, Dad. You knew. You knew that they were after me and you didn’t tell me.”

The father of the bride who gives her away to her groom… even if he isn’t there to walk me down the aisle, no member of the Order could Claim me without getting both my father’s approval, and the head of the society’s.

Yeah. He knew.

Fuck.

Another sigh. “The Order protects me. I owe everything to the Owed. You know that.”

I bite down on the corner of my mouth. “You mean they own you. That it?”

“They’ll protect you, too, if you let them. If you don’t fight them.” Dad pauses, then adds, “You had your fun. Now it’s time to come home and do what you were born to do.”

My eyes snap open. “I’m not marrying Desmond St. James.”

“You don’t have to. But, Loni… if you refuse to be an Offering, Jack has threatened to end the Dougherty’s affiliation with the Order. As the head of our family, I’ll be cut off. I need you to understand what that would mean.”

Damn it.

I do. God, I wish I didn’t, but Ido. If Jack Collins has decided to let me be an Offering after all, if I don’t marry Desmond, I’m basically signing my father’s death warrant.

You don’t leave the Order of the Owed without repercussions. As an Offering, Jack could look the other waywhen I left. But Dad? He’s been a member since his induction forty years ago. He knows things that Jack wouldn’t allow a non-member to know so, when he says cut off, he means executed.

So that’s it. That’s why Dallas is here, and why Dad’s obviously been waiting for this call. I needed to know my options: either I give up my life, or I doom my dad to losing his.

Fuck!

Without saying goodbye, I end the call. Shoving his phone back into Dallas’s waiting hand, hoping like hell that his old scar twinges, I glare up at him.

He arches an eyebrow.