Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“What about Cassian? He won’t allow it,” I try in a last-ditch effort although I don’t believe Jet answers to Cassian if he doesn’t want to.
He exaggerates looking around the church. “Do you see Cassian anywhere?”
I don’t bother to answer. He’s not waiting for me to.
“So. Are you walking or am I carrying you?”
I look up at the altar again. “You don’t have to do this, Amal,” Father Abernathy calls out.
Malcom shoves him between his shoulders, and he stumbles forward but doesn’t fall.
“Stop! Jet, you don’t know what you’re getting into. You don’t want this. You don’t want me.”
“I made you a promise, Little Virgin. I intend on keeping it.”
With that, he bends down to wrap one arm around the backs of my knees and before I can even process what he’s doing, I’m upside down over his shoulder and he’s walking me up to the altar, his footsteps unrushed but determined.
“Jet! You can’t do this! Put me down!”
The world is upside down, my hair falling around my face obscuring my view. I pound on his back and kick my legs, but he takes it all and just keeps walking like it’s nothing. Like it’s costing him no energy at all as I bounce on powerful shoulders, his grip like a steel band over the backs of my legs.
Beneath his long coat, I feel the gun he’s got tucked into the back of his pants. I try to grab it, but it’s impossible and anyway what would I do with it? Shoot him? Before or after his men draw their weapons?
Only when he begins his climb to the altar do his steps slow. I push on his back to lift myself. “Put me down! Damn you! Put me down!”
He only stops when we’re standing before the kneeler and slaps my ass.
“Ow!” My arms fly back, hands over my butt.
“You deserve more than that.”
When he finally sets me down, I stumble. He catches me, not letting me fall and pulls me to him. I look up at him, pushing my hair from my face. How am I the one who’s out of breath? He just stands there, the devil himself, dressed in black from head to toe, his long black coat trailing almost to the floor. He’s glaring down at me with those eyes like the deepest, darkest wood.
A place where I can disappear.
Isn’t that what I want? What I wanted at least? To disappear? Didn’t I think I could once? In the sanctuary of the home he carved out of rock.
But there’s Daniel to consider. Once my brother is safe. Only then can I disappear.
I glance around myself, taking in the soldiers around Father Abernathy. Father Abernathy’s face all concern for me. Isn’t he afraid of these men who are armed? Who will hurt him if I don’t go through with this?
I count the men, six in the church. More outside, I’m sure.
I look at Jet. Not that he needs them. He alone is an entire army in his determination.
“Jet, please. I’ll get your watch back to you. I shouldn’t have taken it, I know that. I know. I…” He just stares down at me patient as ever.
“Is the idea of marrying me so awful?” he asks, then leans closer. “I mean, you were begging me to fu— pardon me, father,” he says, glancing at Father Abernathy momentarily before turning back to me. “To make love to you. Now you’ll get your wish although not exactly as you imagined. And I’ll take my pound of flesh for your betrayal.”
“Cassian will kill you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If you force me to do this, to marry you…” My brain cannot process the words. “If you force me to do this, you’ll be betraying him.”
He chuckles, takes hold of my arm and turns me so we’re both facing the altar. “We should get going. Don’t want to keep Father Abernathy longer than we need to. Kneel, Amal.”
I look from Father Abernathy, the soldiers in my periphery, to Jet. I glance at the doors.
“Jet.” I’m not sure what I want. What I’m saying. What I’m thinking.
“It’s no use fighting me, Amal. This is happening.”
“It can’t. You can’t. You don’t understand.”
He touches me, fingers soft on the side of my face. “Poor Little Virgin. It’s you who doesn’t understand. You’re scared. I understand. And I will keep my promise to you. But it’ll be different than I intended, considering. Now kneel.” There’s no hesitation in his words. He’s so certain he’ll be obeyed. It must feel good to always be in control. Always know.
I’m not sure if I drop down onto the kneeler or if Jet’s hand the back of my neck that forces me down. I don’t know anymore. Because I’m tired. Because maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’ll be better to just let go and do what he says.