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Chapter Eleven

COLETTE

I’m not sure what I should be saying. I want to beg him to take me away. To throw me out the window. I would figure it out from there, but I need the chance to leave. A million thoughts spin around inside my head, but I don’t know how to verbalize them without sounding like a crybaby.

So, I start with the first thing I can actually say.

“I didn’t want to sign those papers,” I blurt out.

I don’t look into his eyes. I stare down at his chest, well, more specifically, my fingers tracing the tattoo on his chest. He doesn’t say anything immediately. Lifting my head, I look down into his eyes, searching his gaze with my own.

He gives me a small smile, and he looks so damn sexy. His fingers slide up the center of my spine before they curl around the back of my neck. My breath hitches as I stare at him. He makes me nervous. I don’t know what to say or how to say it, so I just stare at him—nervously.

“I know you didn’t, baby,” he murmurs.

I press my lips together, and my gaze shifts to the side, then back to him. He slides his fingers through my hair, curling them as he grips the strands. He tugs gently as he looks directly into my eyes.

He doesn’t speak immediately.

Instead, he just watches me in silence, his gaze searching mine before he finally speaks. Sucking in a breath, I can do nothing but watch Merrick as he leans forward and touches his lips to mine.

Slowly, I release my breath as he asks me who I’m marrying. I don’t want to answer him, only because thinking of that man makes me feel sick to my stomach. No good can come from Merrick knowing.

Shaking my head, I press my lips together. I don’t know what to say, but if I actually speak those words out loud—his name—then they will be true. And I don’t want it to be real. I’m still holding out hope that something will happen to end the whole thing… I lost hope in my father somehow becoming a good person the moment he watched me being auctioned off like an animal.

But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost all hope… especially now that Merrick is here. It’s probably silly for me to put any stock in being rescued by this man. I signed those annulment papers against my will, but I still did it. However, Merrick signed them as well, but not against his will.

“I don’t know him,” I whisper, giving him just as much of the truth as I think he needs about it. “I only met him once.”

What I don’t say is that the one time I met Malcolm, he sold my body off to the highest bidder—literally. I don’t tell him that I know his name, first and last. I don’t tell him that the people who came to my father’s office today were connected to that man somehow and that I think they want me to do something that involves luring children, and I’m sick over it.

I want to tell Merrick all those things, but I’m afraid for two different reasons.

One, I don’t know how he’s going to react, and I don’t want him to get hurt by storming through the house to find my father and possibly kill him… although I would not be sad about that part in the slightest if it were to happen.

The other reason is that I’m afraid he’ll think badly of me for not trying to get away. I, without a doubt, feel like a horrible person for not fighting tooth and nail to escape—right now.

“Come with me,” he murmurs.

My breath stops inside my chest. Every ounce of my being is begging me to say yes… except my brain. My brain is telling me no, for all the reasons above and then some. Mainly the little fact that I know my father won’t just let me break whatever deal he struck with Malcolm. I’m sure there would be a consequence that would affect my father, and he would never allow that.

“Going with you won’t do anything. My father will just find us and drag me back again.”

I don’t add that he will probably kill Merrick in the process. I can’t let that happen. I love him too much. He hums before he tugs on my hair a little harder and leans forward, touching his lips to mine again.

He doesn’t reassure me in any way, but he does grunt, and I take that as some kind of confirmation that my father would indeed do all of that, even the things that I didn’t vocalize.

“You think I’d let him take you again?” he asks.

I almost snort because I know the truth. My father would indeed snatch me up and bring me back. He would do anything to keep from looking like he couldn’t control me. He would also do anything to save his own neck.

Adriano Bellucci wouldn’t give a fuck whose toes he stepped on. And then I would suffer at either his hands or Malcolm’s. I have a feeling I would rather suffer at my father’s hands than Malcolm’s, though. That man terrifies me.

MERRICK

I can almost taste her fear. It swirls between us, threatening to consume us both. I won’t fucking allow it. I’ve lived with enough fear in my life. I’ve allowed it to control me for far too long. Even when I said it didn’t, it did.

Like when Adriano came and took my wife, I would be a liar if I said I didn’t fight for her merely because I didn’t want her forced on me and it was better for her to be gone. It was partially because of fear.

Fear that I would fuck her up.

Fear that she would fuck me up.

Fear that Adriano would come after Securus and my brothers.

“Do you want him?” I ask, my tone and voice not hiding an ounce of my disdain.

She shakes her head, her eyes finding mine. “Not in a million years,” she whispers.

“But you don’t want me either?” I ask, even though I could feel just how much she fucking wanted me when my fingers and my dick were inside of her.

I just want to hear her say it to my face. I want those words. I want her to tell me that she wants me… needs me. I know she missed me—she already told me that she did. But I want more from her. I want to know that I didn’t come here for no fucking reason.

“I do,” she says, and I watch as unshed tears fill her eyes. She blinks them away, inhaling deeply through her nose before she lets it out of her mouth slowly, then dips her chin in a single nod.

“You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted, Merrick.”

“But you left,” I point out.

She shakes her head. “My father made it very clear that there would be problems for you if I did not go with him. I thought you would be happier without me anyway. It’s not like we were close… except…”

“In bed,” I finish.

“In bed,” she confirms with a small smile as her cheeks tint pink.

There is a moment of silence where we just stare into each other’s eyes, and for the first time in my life, my mind is quiet. Even when I’m inside of her, I feel at peace, but I don’t feel still. There is a constant edginess to me.

Part of me is always on the defense, always ready to fight—except in this moment, right here and now—with Colette.

I can’t even try to tell her that she’s wrong, but she’s not. That’s exactly what the fuck we did. Fuck. We didn’t talk. I can’t even order her a goddamn coffee the way she likes if I tried.

“I want to change that, Colette,” I state. “You’re still my wife.”

She blinks for a moment. Then, her brows knit together as she stares at me. I watch as she processes the information I just gave her. It’s almost as if she didn’t know that she was still my wife.

“Colette,” I murmur.

“I’m what?” she asks.

“The annulment hasn’t been finalized yet.”

She sits up, her bare breasts distracting me instantly. Biting the corner of my lip, I ball my hands into fists as I fight the urge to touch them, to touch her, to fuck her again. But I know I’m going to need to start getting dressed and make my exit soon. I have, without a doubt, teetered on the edge of overstaying my welcome and getting caught.

“It hasn’t?” she breathes.

“It will be finalized soon, but it hasn’t yet. You’re still very much my wife, Colette.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but a noise outside of the bedroom door causes both of us to freeze. Sliding off the bed, I gather my discarded clothes as quickly and quietly as humanly possible. Wishing I had brought a gun with me and making a mental note to get one somewhere… soon.

I watch as Colette grabs a robe from the back of her closet door and slips it on over her naked body. I frown at the sight, knowing that she’s completely naked beneath. I can see her nipples through the thin fabric.

The noise happens again.

We both freeze.

I should probably get the fuck out of here, but I can’t walk away until I know she’s safe. Even though that is an oxymoron because she could never be fucking safe in this house. Never was, never could be, never will be.

The door handle jiggles, and instead of climbing out of the window the way I probably should, I move to the darkest corner of the bedroom and watch. Colette turns her head, looking at me from over her shoulder, then gives me a small smile before the handle jiggles again.