Okay, so maybe Billy is kind of an idiot.
"Which her are you talking about, Matt?" Billy asks, shooting him a coy grin. His eyes sparkled with knowledge, a knowledge Matt is not aware of, which is why he seems so jovial. "Your sister or your lover? And before you give me your answer, think very carefully. You are choosing between them, after all."
"What are you talking about?" Matt asks through gritted teeth. He shifts his weight and it's only then that I realize Billy is pointing a gun—I think it's a pistol but I can't be sure; it’s double-barreled and is a sleek silver color except the grip which is brown. It's cocked and ready to fire should Billy choose to shoot— at Matt's chest.
That's why Matt hasn't done anything when he clearly can; it's because Billy has him at a stalemate, and Billy is as unpredictable as the weather here. Matt doesn't want to give him any reason to do something stupid.
"You have a choice," Billy says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "If you want to save Sarah, you must sacrifice your wench. If you want to save her"—he points the gun over Matt's shoulder at me for a fraction of a second—"you must sacrifice your sister. But you can only choose one and you must choose now. Save this woman you think you're in love with or save your only family left in the world."
"Why are you doing this, Billy?" Matt asks. I think he's doing it to buy himself some time, but there's something in his tone that indicates he is curious about Billy's motives. "Sarah adores you and she's never given you any reason to not be true to her. I don't understand."
"Of course, you don't understand," Billy says, rolling his eyes. "You're the problem. It's always been you."
Matt looks like he doesn't understand. I do, though. Matt and Sarah are close, which all siblings should be. I personally don't have a problem with it. But I understand the frustration of helping said sibling when perhaps they should be focusing on their significant other. If that makes any sense.
"You." Billy's eyes flash and he clenches jaw. It's clear that this has been building for a long while and now that he's finally given the opportunity to unleash his opinion of Matt into the world, he wants to choose his words carefully so his message packs the appropriate punch and everything that needs to be said will be said. "This is your fault. And I promise you, I'm going to make you pay."
The look on Matt's face is passive and unconcerned—even as Billy stalks to the bed, keeping his pistol on Matt, and yanking me down so I’m in his arms—but I do notice that his jaw is locked and his body is tense. Perhaps it's because Billy has a hold on me and there's nothing I can do to get away from him. There's nothing Matt can do, either, especially considering that pistol is now pointed underneath my chin.
"Sarah is my wife," Billy begins, narrowing his eyes at Matt. I already know where this is going but I listen, keeping my eyes on Matt, trying to gauge the look on his face. "Yet you are the one she turns to when she needs assistance for anything. She has accounting trouble, let's ask Matt. She needs business advice, let's ask Matt. There's a leak in the second story washroom, Matt will know how to fix it. Matt, Matt, Matt. Matt Scott, the wanted pirate. The reason she was arrested in the first place. You know that, right? When word got around that she was your sister, they arrested her on purpose to try to lure you in and arrest you. They were never going to hang her. She didn't know it, but I did. Who do you think told the Navy about your relationship in the first place?"
Matt clenches his jaw. So do I.
"They were going to release Sarah once they had you," Billy continues. "She never would have known she was an unwilling accomplice in your capture and subsequent death. You would be out of the picture and I would be the one she turned to. Me, her husband. I wouldn't need to seek the arms of another because my wife would finally look at me like I'm her husband. But, from what I understand, she ruined everything." He turns to me, his eyes narrowing and his grip on me tightening. I know I'm going to have bruises. "Tell me, does he go to Sarah instead of you? Does he do things for her that she—or I—can do for her?"
"I don't question what Matt does for his sister," I say, because I have to answer quickly. Any hesitation would be a revelation of truth into what Billy says and I don't want to encourage him even though I agree with him to a point. That realization makes bile rise up to my mouth and I cringe as I swallow it back down. "I don't have any siblings; I don't know what type of relationship they're supposed to have. I don't think it would be appropriate for me to start questioning Matt and Sarah's. It is what it is, and that's it. If I want to be with Matt, I need to I understand that."
Billy looks at me, trying to decipher if I'm being honest in my evaluation. He looks doubtful. I hold his gaze and hope nothing gives me away.
"You don't have a brother or a sister?" he asks, with one raised eyebrow. When I nod, he spits on the floor. "I have two brothers and a sister. They don't ask me for things the way Sarah asks Matt for things. They don't do things for me the way Matt does for Sarah. They each have their spouses they can count on directly, and if they need anything else, they're always free to ask me. But they don't go to me first. Why should they, when they have a partner right there, willing to help?"
"Yes, but you need to understand that Matt and Sarah are close." I know the only reason I'm defending Matt is because Matt is the man I love, and Sarah is his sister. But Billy actually makes sense to me and I can understand his side. Of course, that doesn't mean I think he needs to go and kill everyone or have an affair, but he's not wrong in his concern. "They had a difficult life together. They only have each other and it's been that way for the longest time. You can't just change it."
"Oh yeah?" Billy asks doubtfully. "What do you do?"
I stop myself from responding to this quickly and force myself to think. My words may or may not have an impact on Billy, but I know that Matt is listening and I want to make sure he understands what the problem is and maybe, hopefully, he'll realize why his choices have been problematic, regardless of the fact that they're coming from a good place.
"I try to understand that he's doing this for his sister, who's taken care of him and sacrificed things for him, things she can never get back," I reply. "And now, finally, he can take care of her. He's not going to say no to her, especially if he can give her what she needs."
Billy looks like he's going to think about it. He looks like my words have sunk in. I look over at Matt and see he's looking at me with apologetic look on his face. A look that admits that perhaps he may be wrong about the choices he's made, and maybe I'm more right than he gave me credit for. He's sorry, I know. That doesn't mean that he thinks I'm right, but he knows I'm not entirely wrong.
Before I can even blink and look back at Billy, Billy's free hand shoots out and slaps my face hard. I don’t want to make a sound but I can’t help a grunt as a thousand tiny needles shoot across my face, making the blood pinch my cheek and turn my face an unnatural shade of red.
“You bastard!” Matt hollers.
He lunges for Billy, but Billy quickly thrusts me in front of him, positioning his body behind me. His hand rests on the back of my neck and his fingers coil around my throat. He isn’t squeezing. Not yet, anyway. I can feel the pistol at the base of my neck, just waiting to explode.
Immediately, Matt stops, looking between my neck and Billy’s face. I can read his face pretty easily; he’s trying to decipher if it’s worth the risk to try and go after Billy. After a beat, Matt clenches his jaw and looks away. His brown eyes have turned black and his nostrils flare like a bird’s wings; I’ve never seen him look so angry before.
“That’s what I thought, mate,” Billy says, and even though I can’t see him, I hear the smirk in his tone as clear as the beats in rap music.
I’ll never hear rap again, I realize.
I think I’ll survive.
“You try and come after me, she dies,” he says, “and don’t think I won’t. You know me better than that.”
“I know you’re a man who says a lot and doesn’t do much o
f anything,” Matt quips before he can stop himself.
I start smiling up until the point where Billy starts putting pressure on my throat.
“I’m sorry,” Matt says quickly. He doesn’t even care that he sounds desperate. He doesn’t care that his masculinity has taken a hit. Not when I’m at risk. “I’m sorry, all right? Just…don’t hurt her.”
“What I do to Isla is going to be completely your choice, Scott,” Billy says, and his glee has returned. His fingers loosen their grip on me, but they don’t completely let me go. “Remember, you must choose between her or your sister.”
“Billy, I—”
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” Billy says. “It’s quite simple: either Isla or Sarah. It’s not that difficult.”
“What if I choose?” I ask. I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing besides acting like a complete idiot, but my mouth keeps talking and I’m not at the point I think I should stop myself. In fact, I think I’m just going to keep going to see where this is going.
“What if—what?” Billy sounds confused.
That’s okay. I can work with confused.
“I’ll choose,” I say. I’m in an awkward position because I don’t want to look at Matt while I’m saying this, but at the same time, he’s all I can see. I just don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to take this choice from him, but I refuse to let him be in this position where it becomes a matter of either-or between his sister and me, the woman he loves. I love Matt. I trust him. But he can’t—and shouldn’t—be put in a position where he would have to choose. It just isn’t fair. And if I can take that from him, I will.
“No.” Matt’s voice is low and cold and leaves no room for argument. He already knows. His eyes burn into mine—they’re dark, with a punch of fire in them. I swear, if you could visualize passion, this is it. And I’m stunned by its ferocious beauty, its compelling hook.
I force myself to look away. If I’m going to do this, I need my wits about me, and Matt is making it very hard to even remember my name when he’s looking at me this way. It’s not sexual and it’s not loving. It’s desperate. It’s fear. It’s utter despair, hopelessness, and pleading to reverse my decision. Because even though I haven’t said anything, he already knows I’m making this decision and he can’t stop me. He’s begging me with his eyes, and my gut twists because all I want to do is give in and do what it is he’s asking of me.
But I can’t. This is for him.
I shake my head and my eyes fill with tears. I want to go to him. I want to hold on to him with everything I am because this whole moment is making me unsteady and I have no idea how I’m still standing. How did this all go wrong? How did we get here?
I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I’m the only one who can fix this, and I will. I have to. For Matt. Always for Matt.
“I’ll go with you,” I tell Billy. My eyes are on the floor in front of me and not the one occupying my heart, my every fiber. I refuse to look at him because I know that if I do, I’ll break into a million pieces and fly away in the wind with no hope of being put back together. “If it means protecting Sarah, I’ll go with you. Just…just don’t hurt her. Or him.”
Billy stares at me. I can feel it. I can feel him thinking about it.
“It’s more fun if Matt decides,” he says finally. “But…” His finger is playing with the stubble on his chin, my neck momentarily free from him, and I’m literally praying to God, thanking Him that it appears Billy will take me up on my offer. “But it’ll be even more fun watching him watch me take you away, knowing he can do nothing about it. Knowing he can’t save you.”
I swallow. I’m scared out of my goddamn mind, but I can’t let Matt see. I can’t let him realize just how scared I am because if he does, he won’t let me leave the room, even if it means risking Sarah’s safety. Even if it means risking his life for me. He would do it in a heartbeat. And clearly, I feel the same way about him.
“Let’s go then,” he says, clutching my arm and yanking me toward him, to the door.
“Absolutely not,” Matt says, stepping forward. He doesn’t reach for me—he won’t risk it—but he puts himself in Billy’s way, and for the time being, he’s preventing us from leaving. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”
"Matt."
It's my voice that's coming out, not Billy's. I’m looking at him with tears in my eyes and I want more than anything to blink them away because I don’t want him to see me this way. I want to be strong for him, the way he deserves because I know he would be strong for me if our positions were reversed. But I can’t. They’re crowding my eyelids, making him look blurry but beautiful, and I have to rub my lips together to buy myself some time and figure out what I’m going to say.
The thing is, I’m terrible with words. Verbal words. I am—was—a journalist. I know how to write. I know how to string words together effectively to argue, to prove a point, to prove something. But when it comes to thinking about just what I’m going to say to the man I love in this situation, I have no clue. I want it to be perfect, but it won’t be. That just isn’t possible. So I swallow, moistening my dry throat, and tell him the first thing that comes to mind.
“I love you,” I say. “Let me do this for you.”
I almost break when I see Matt’s tears build up in his eyes. They don’t fall—I don’t know if I’ll ever see Matt cry, just because he’s not a terribly emotional guy—but his brown eyes are glassy, and they aren’t as dark as they have been while he spoke with Billy.
“No,” he tells me, and his voice cracks—and in that moment, my heart does break. He shakes his head to emphasize the point, his dark hair flowing with each movement of his head.
I give him a watery smile. “It’s already done, Matt,” I tell him. “Maybe I came here to do this for you, to save you, because you deserve a life filled with love and adventure and—”
Billy thwacks me across my face, interrupting my sappy and probably rambling speech. My head snaps back and a million little needles prick my skin where Billy has slapped me again, worse this time. Matt lunges for him, but he replaces the pistol against my throat as a way to stop him mid-lunge. I swallow again but for entirely different purposes. Not going to lie, I’m scared shitless. I can feel the barrel on my flesh.
“I’ll be okay,” I tell Matt. “It’ll be okay.”
Billy barks out a laugh in my ear. “Don’t lie to him, princess,” he says as he backs us back to the door. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Matt once as he does so, which is smart. “You’ll be far from all right.”
When we slip out of the doorway, he slams it shut and locks Matt in before dragging me along to wherever he plans to take me.
Chapter 21
The minute Billy left with Isla, Matt ran to the door and gripped the knob. He had heard the clink of the lock, but he thought he might be able to twist it hard enough to break it, but to no avail. He growled, shaking the knob in frustration. Vibrations rippled through the door, but it still would not budge. The damn thing was stubborn and there seemed to be nothing Matt could do to free himself. An idea popped into his mind and before he knew it, he flew to the grand window that overlooked the town square. It was dark out, and besides a few beggars, it was that rare point in the morning where it was too early for even the drinkers and the whores to line up and down the street. He opened the window, prepared to climb down the three stories if possible, but there was no way for him to safely descend.
He bit his bottom lip so hard it bled. He needed to go. He needed to get out of here. He was going to go mad with frustration, anger, and fury if he couldn't think of anything.
Isla—the foolish, foolish girl! He wanted to strangle her for what she did. How could she have just let Billy take her that way, without putting up a fight? How could she simply go of her own free will? He would have thought of something so Sarah would be fine and so would she. He was quick on his feet; he had come up with plans such as that before this. It was actually a specialty of his.
/> But, for some reason, she hadn't trusted him enough to simply allow him the opportunity to do so. She made the choice to leave with Billy before Matt could think of anything. She had made that choice without discussing it with him first—not that they necessarily had the opportunity for discussion, but still. He would have liked to at least have a chance to vocalize his opinion. Even though, even though…
Isla had no choice but to go with Billy. How could she think she would be chosen over Sarah? Matt always chose Sarah over everyone. She was his only family; he knew all she sacrificed for him. Sarah didn't know he knew, but he did. He was furious when he found out, but he knew there was nothing he could do. The past was the past—they couldn't change it. Even if he wanted to.
He grit his teeth together to keep from screaming. This was not how things were supposed to go. The worst part was he had no idea what to do now.
He needed to find Sarah. He needed to get to Billy. He needed… He needed to be let out from this blasted room.
Without carefully thinking it through, Matt charged to the door, shoulder first. He collided into the wood, causing it to groan upon impact, but it still would not budge. Matt ignored the pain that shot through his shoulder like a bullet fired from a gun. Instead, he tilted his head back and screamed at the ceiling.
No. That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was knowing that Isla was right and he hadn't listened to her. She didn't exactly make it easy, however. The tone of her voice was rather aggressive and judgmental, and he had long ago learned to tune people out who spoke to him in such a way, regardless if they were family or strangers. He didn't appreciate her insinuations or the fact that it didn't seem as though she believed him when he said he hadn't kissed Corsa. All he wanted was for her to trust him. They were together now, and they said they loved each other. He didn't like that they had gotten into a fight so soon after the confession.
To Ruin a Rogue: Page 17