Captive Bride (The Secret Bride 1) - Page 17

“But what about Hallelujah Junction, and my mother?”

“I promise you that your mother will not be an issue. No matter where we go, she won’t be. I give you my word. I come from a family with a lot of money and a lot of resources. On top of all that, I make my own income and can hire the best security and guarantee that you never have to hide again. As for this town, well…” He takes the last bite of food and chews it slowly before continuing. “Just like the miners who built this town. They all had to leave their homes and their families to start anew. It’s part of life and has been happening since the beginning of time. I’m sure you’ve read about it countless times in all those books of yours.”

True. I have. He has a very good point.

“I’ve never been to New York.” I glance down at Pine Cone who is asleep by my side. I briefly remember simpler times when it was just my pet and me together in our isolation as we waited for the hours of the day to tick by. My face heats with shame as I add, “I’ve never been anywhere.”

“You’ll love it. It may take some getting comfortable to the idea since it’s so different than what you’re used to, but we could build a great future together. I’ll buy you a home, and you can decorate it however you want to.” He points to Pine Cone as he leans over and places the tray on the floor, keeping the coffee cup in his hand. “You can bring your cat, of course.”

“She’s my best friend,” I admit.

“Which is sad,” Christopher says, harsher than how he’s been speaking. He quickly smiles to conceal the momentary… judgment of my situation, but I saw it. I saw the flash in his eyes before he could hide it from me.

The euphoria I was feeling only seconds ago is suddenly suffocated by something much darker.

Skepticism.

Doubt.

Suspicion.

I tilt my head and examine how easily Christopher crosses his legs and leans back in the wobbly wooden chair. He cups the mug of coffee and appears so… calm. Night and day difference from the man this morning.

This isn’t real.

He isn’t real.

An act. And I should know all about acts. I have gotten very good at them.

“Why are you lying to me?” I ask, hating that the words have to come from my lips. I want to believe. So badly, I want what he says to be true. “I’m not stupid, Christopher. I know you must think I’m dumb, which I can understand. I can believe you hate me. I can believe you can’t stand that I’m sitting in this cellar and doing nothing to help you. But what I can’t believe is what you are telling me now.” I lean forward and bite the quiver out of my lip. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

For the first time since arriving with breakfast, I see an honest emotion in his eyes that he doesn’t bother to enshroud in false promises and impossible dreams.

Hatred.

I clearly see hatred.

“Ember, what the fuck do you want me to say?” He swallows the last of his coffee and glares directly into my eyes. “Do I have a god damn choice? Huh? Daddy Dearest has declared we’re getting married. So, it’s a done deal.”

“But you don’t have to lie to me. You don’t have to tell me I will someday have a home I can decorate, or how we’ll someday have a family. If you don’t mean it, you don’t have to say it.”

“Bullshit!” He throws the coffee cup across the room, and it shatters to pieces.

I jump and cower backwards but resist the urge to flee. He has the right to be angry. At least now, he’s being honest. This is what I want. I don’t want deceit. I want the real Christopher, no matter how awful the man could end up being. No matter how painful his words may be, I want them to at least be true.

He stands up and storms over to where I sit. The chain is long enough now. He can hurt me if he desires, but he stops inches from me with fisted hands.

“Do you want me to tell you I want to kill you? Because I don’t. Do you want me to tell you I want to hurt you? That would be a lie too. I’ve already told you the truth. You know I want out of here. You know I want your help… that I need your help. I’ve already told you the fucking truth. Where has that gotten me?” He leans even closer, but his hands remain at his sides. I can feel his warm breath on my face. I feel his inner demons rage out of control, but his composed demeanor keep them at bay. “Huh? Tell me!”

Tags: Alta Hensley The Secret Bride Romance
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