Page 44 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

TWENTY-EIGHT

LONG LIVE THE KING

LONI

I t takes a week before Jack Collins calls Adrian and tells him that he’d like to see him at his office. My husband had refused to go back to the Fortress after he whisked me away out of it wearing nothing more than my bra, my panties, and his suit jacket.

He was about to search the hidden backroom for my clothes, but the shock that set in after I was forced at gunpoint to remove my clothes before being assaulted made it so that I clung to him like I was fucking velcro.

I couldn’t let go of him. It was like I had this terrible feeling that, if he released me, I’d be up on that stage, sold like a piece of cattle, and sent home with some stranger to do whatever the fuck they wanted to me.

I didn’t tell Adrian why I was behind the curtain. As the most recent addition to the afternoon’s monthly auction, they separated me from the other girls so that any man who might be interested could visit me in the back and get an idea of my worth before I went on the stage.

One faceless man—because masks, damn it, they wore thin masks with their business suits—squeezed my tits.

Another slid his hand inside of my underwear, palming my ass.

Two came in, murmuring on a shared deal, then shook hands.

Another pinched my pussy through my underwear.

The last one grabbed my hair, only murmuring his appreciation when he yanked and I squealed.

He wanted a squealer, he told me, then tugged one last time for good measure before slipping back out into the shadows.

My clothes were thrown in a pile so high, it made my stomach crawl to think about how many other women were put through this same degradation. I didn’t care if I ever saw that shirt or those jeans again. My shoes? I could buy a hundred pairs of shoes. I just wanted to leave.

He ordered Dallas to stay behind and he did.

I think it stunned the enforcer to see what his father was capable of; Adrian confirmed that neither he nor Dallas had any idea that Jack was selling ‘undesirables’ in a basement auction to very wealthy businessmen all over the country.

Dallas even killed two… no, three enforcers since Adrian had to lead me out past Luke’s dead body…

Adrian’s cousin killed the men who saw nothing wrong with what was going on in the shadows.

When I stopped trembling so much, I decided that I might forgive Dallas for being the one to track me down in Bridgewater.

Maybe…

Jack knew there was trouble. He knew he was caught.

He had five traumatized girls on his hands, three dead enforcers, and who knows how many corrupt businessmen to deal with after Adrian and Dallas rescued me.

Though I should say that Dallas made a call to get the girls out, then made another so that the sheriff rounded up as many as the men as possible.

They all bought their way out of trouble almost immediately, but at least they tried.

Sebastien was there, too. As Adrian hurried me out, Sebastien was waiting by his motorcycle as if he knew what was going down inside of the Fortress. Adrian passed him his gun, said two words—’basement’ and ‘Dallas’—and then the most rebellious of the Heirs went stalking inside of the building.

I haven’t heard anything about him since. Dallas decided to take a week vacation out of town, and I’m pretty sure Sebastien went with him. As for my husband, he spent the last week at home, cuddling up with me and Peaches, promising that everything was going to be okay.

We talked about what happened. How Luke lied to me and I fell for it, how I left my phone behind on accident, and how Jack Collins tried to do everything he could to convince me to leave Adrian.

He stayed silent at that part, though he got quietly furious when I admitted that I knew about the blood oath—and that Jack destroyed it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said at last, holding me tight. “We’re married and nothing can change that.”

He seemed so certain that I refused to question it.

And when he had to leave the room to take a few curious phone calls, I refused to let the old suspicions come to life again.

Adrian has finally proven that I can trust him, and if he says he’s got everything under control, for once I’m more than happy to let him take it, no complaints.

I wondered if one of them was his uncle. No. That call didn’t come until late last night when a slightly slurring Jack contacted Adrian, telling him that there was some sort of miscommunication between them, and that he would like to see him at twelve sharp the next morning.

With the sexy smirk that I’ve never been able to ignore, Adrian admitted once the call had ended—and he agreed that he and his wife would both show up at Jack’s office in the Fortress at noon so long as his ‘mentor’ Stephen sobered up enough to show up…

and hopefully Uncle Jack would do the same—that his uncle had decided to simply ignore what happened.

That his enforcers were dead, his sex trafficking auction was revealed, and he’d tried to sell his nephew’s wife to the highest bidder.

Adrian didn’t like that. So, using his financial management skills, he sent the Order’s portfolio straight into the toilet. By the time Jack got drunk enough to contact his sister’s son, they were two hundred thousand in the red with the numbers falling every few hours.

He told me he could easily correct it. But since money was the only thing Jack cared about, he used money to force his uncle’s hand.

I didn’t know what that meant. Just like I didn’t understand why my husband would insist that I join the meeting with him. But I’ve decided that, if we’re going to make this marriage work… and we are… then I need to trust him.

I always thought he would put the Order before me.

I know better now. If his loyalty was to the King and the old guard, he would’ve except his uncle’s command.

His obsession might live on, but if the Order was more important, he would’ve left me in the basement because that’s what a devoted Owed would do.

Instead, he showed his vicious side again. He cut off a finger to get to me. If that doesn’t say ‘you’re the most important thing in the world to me’, I don’t know what does.

That’s why, at twelve noon, we walk together into Jack Collins’s office, hand-in-hand.

His lips purse when he sees me. I don’t think that he expected I would have the balls to show up after what he tried.

But I did. Because I have Adrian Heller at my side, and as long as he Claims me, I’ll Claim him right back.

There are four seats today instead of the single one that I sat in barely a week ago. A man in his early fifties, with salt-and- pepper hair, rheumy eyes, and a sickly sweet scent clinging to his suit sits in the one farthest on my left.

Adrian guides me to the one all the way on the right. Once I’m seated, he takes the one next to me.

Jack sits behind the desk. His attention is solely on Adrian, and if he was a weaker man, who would quail under the weight of Jack’s stare.

But he’s not a weaker man so, instead, he lounges lazily in the seat, legs spread, expression daring.

He takes the cigarette from behind his ear, tucks it in the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t light it, though. He hasn’t had a cigarette in six weeks, but hell if he doesn’t look goddamn sexy with it hanging off of his lip like that.

Once he’s perfectly posed, Adrian holds out his hand to me. I clutch it.

He looks at his uncle. “Well. You wanted to talke to us?”

Jack opens his mouth, but before he can say a word, someone else enters the door Adrian purposely left open.

“Pardon.” The King bares his perfect white teeth at the intruder in an obvious warning. I bet he’d say it was a welcoming smile… nope. I know what I saw. “We’re in the middle of a meeting. What are you doing?”

I look over at the man. He’s about thirty or so.

Good-looking. He has these sculpted features that look like they belong on the cover of a magazine, with dark hair carefully tousled.

His deep blue eyes are striking against his complexion, and despite Jack’s less-than-welcome welcome, he shows off the bottle of whiskey in his hands.

Jack waits.

The man shuffles his way in, presenting the bottle in front of him as though that’s his ticket into Jack’s office.

To be fair, it works.

“Sorry. Sorry. My name is Hunter. Hunter Reed? I think I sent you a message last week about applying to be a member of the Order? I got a message that, so long as my donation went through, I’m in?

Well, thank you, Mr. Collins. The notification from my bank came back this morning.

One of your secretaries told me I can be inducted at the end of the month, but I was so excited, I wanted to drop by and give a little something to show my appreciation. ”

Huh. I’m not even a little surprised that Jack is selling memberships into the Order.

As far as I knew, it was either by legacy or by manner of being a significant citizen in Harmony Heights.

But if Jack sold women, why wouldn’t he sell the Order’s brand and all the perks that come with it if he can?

The man is nice to look at, but I wouldn’t think of him as Order material.

Between being dressed all in black, a skull patch on the side of his jeans, and an almost amused look in his deep blue eyes despite the obvious fawning act…

I guess I shouldn’t judge. In a way, he reminds me of Sebastien Reynolds, only there’s something about him that’s not quite right.

He’s dangerous. That’s the vibe he gives off. Despite his words, everything about his body language says this is not a man to fuck with.

Can Jack tell? I’m not sure, but he does accept the bottle. “Thank you. Reed, was it?”

He nods. “Hunter, yes.”

“Good man, Reed. I look forward to seeing you at the bonfire.”