Chapter 33
Dallas
This was hardly the way I pictured the night before my wedding. I always thought there would be champagne, sneaky kisses from my husband-to-be, and a feeling of elation that I’d snuggle into like a cloud on my way to sleep.
Instead, I had one warm bottle of beer, an incredible hatred for my husband-to-be, and a feeling of nausea that hit me like a bus the second I moved more than an inch.
It was cruel to lock me up in my room while I “made my decision” when everyone knew there was no decision to make. Preston was all about the appearance of fairness without ever playing fair. He just wanted me to wallow in my misery. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even say out loud that come tomorrow, my living nightmare would become as permanent as the contract binding me to Wes. Marriage had come a long way since the days when women belonged to their husbands by law, but mine would be like stepping back into the dark ages. And there would be no getting around giving Wes my body. He would finally get everything he wanted.
I wished for Shane. I wished that he could save me, that in one fell swoop he could erase all this horror from my life and replace it with the joy I felt in that meadow. But what could he do? Nothing. Preston had finally won. Every last piece of myself that I’d been smuggling under the radar these past three years would soon be obliterated, along with all my hopes for a better future.
The handle turned on my door, and I curled my knees up to my chest in bed. I expected Preston, coming to gloat, but wasn’t surprised to see Wes instead. Goodie.
“Hey,” Wes said.
The aggression that commonly laced his words was absent. I didn’t trust it.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
Wes walked over to the bed and sat down at my feet. I pulled them closer to my butt and took an angry swig of beer, trying to communicate with my body language how unwelcome he was. Not that it would do any good.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said. His tone was almost gentle.
“Like what?” I asked. “Against my will? Unless you’re planning to give me a lobotomy, I’m afraid it does.”
Frustration wrinkled his brow, but he smoothed it out. “I could give you everything, Dallas. It could be a happy life.”
“I don’t want everything,” I shot back. “I want my freedom.”
Wes angled his body toward me and rested a hand on my knee. Ice stabbed through me. I clutched my beer bottle harder. If I couldn’t stand for him even to place his hand on my knee, how the hell was I going to have sex with him without vomiting all over the place?
Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It would serve him right.
“I love you, Dallas. Let me. Give in to me, and you’ll see how good we can be together. I know that it seems bad now, but everything I do is because I know what’s best for you.”
I was appalled at his gall and smacked his hand away. He let it fall beside my legs, but his jaw ticked. I didn’t care if I was pissing him off. If this was my last night as my own person, I was going to take full advantage and not waste a single moment.
“You have no idea what’s best for me!” I said. “You don’t even know me!”
“I don’t know you?” He stood and glared down at me. “No, I know you Dallas. I know all about you.” Leaning down, he shoved a finger into my face. “It’s you who doesn’t know me. You never tried to get to know me, never cared, no matter what I did. It’s your fault that your father’s in so much debt with mine. If you had been less of a bitch, I wouldn’t have had to tie you to us like that.”
I’d always suspected that Preston had screwed my dad over, and knew that Wes had encouraged him to make the arrangement we had once I already rejected him. I had no idea he had been working against me this long.
“Are you saying that my dad is in debt to your family because you were sad that I didn’t pay more attention to you?” I asked in a low growl.
Wes stood to his full height and sneered. “I did what I had to do to. I loved you, and when I heard that your dad borrowed money from mine, it seemed too good to be true. My dad wants what’s best for me, and he saw how much I cared about you, so he convinced your dad to take on a couple of bogus investments. I was going to forgive it all, Dallas.” The hardness in his eyes melted and he crumpled to his knees beside the bed, wrestling my hands into his grip. “As soon as you fell for me I was going to be the big hero and make it all go away. But you never even gave me a fucking chance.”
I could hardly see from the red clouding my vision. My hands were freezing, even in Wes’s sweaty grip, but my face burned like the sun. I yanked my hands free and climbed around Wes to stand in the middle of the floor.
“You’re sick,” I told him. “And you know what the worst part is? There were times when I thought you seemed almost human, but clearly, you don’t even know what human is.”
Wes stood and stepped toward me. I stepped back, but I didn’t slow down.
“I feel sorry for you Wes, I really fucking do. You never stood a chance with a father as cruel and manipulative as yours. You were twisted from the day he first held you, and because of that you’ll never know what love really is.”
Wes’s muddy eyes softened for a second. His hands fell to his sides, and he seemed almost ashamed. The mirage vanished a moment later, and steel returned to his gaze. He set his jaw, contempt written in the lines of his face.
“Get some sleep,” he muttered coldly. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”
He stormed from my room and slammed the door. I listened for his receding footsteps and, once I was sure he was gone, collapsed to the floor. I tucked my knees to my chest but refused to cry.
Chapter 34
Shane
I rode straight up to the front door this time. I didn’t care if all of Preston’s goons heard me and came running. This time, I wasn’t hiding.
Rob was waiting at the front door. Once I took off my helmet, and he knew it was me, he slammed his knuckles hard against the door to alert the others.
“This time I’m going to kill you!” he bellowed.
I chuckled, dismounting my bike. “I think it’s sweet that you think I’m here to see you.”
Rob’s expression turned murderous. Two other men stepped out onto the porch and flanked him, crossing their arms over their barrel chests and mean-mugging me like the authentic tough guys they were.
“I want to talk to Preston,” I announced.
“It’ll be the last conversation you ever have,” Rob snapped.
“Then I’m sure you won’t mind letting me through.” I hopped up the steps and stood in front of them, smiling as though my charm would ever work on them.
Rob’s lips twitched into a cruel sneer. “As much as I’d love to pound you into the dirt where you stand, I’d much rather see what Preston has in store for you. Come on in.”
He grabbed me by the upper arm as the other two patted me down for weapons. Finding nothing, they nodded to Rob and he dragged me inside. I noticed that the inside of the house was bursting at the seams with tacky Saint Patrick’s Day decorations, from green tinsel on the walls to buckets of green bead necklaces overflowing in the entryway. The word tacky didn’t cover it.
Soon I found myself in front of Preston’s imposing office door. Rob banged on it and called out, “Special delivery.”
“Come in.”
Rob pushed into the room and shoved me forward. I caught my footing and stood upright, taking in the scene. Preston was behind his desk, and Wes sat in front of it. They each had a tumbler of amber liquid in front of them, and a cigarette smoked from the ashtray. Both of them looked surprised to see me, but that surprise soon morphed into interest.
“Looks like somebody heard the news,” Preston purred. “Funny, because I don’t remember sending him an invitation.”
Wes got up and faced me, fists drawn in tight at his sides.
“If I thought he would come, I would have sent one. Shane, you are just the man I want to see tonight.�
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“How fortuitous for us both,” I drawled.
“Where did you find him?” Preston asked.
Rob chuckled. “He came right up to the front door. Said he wanted to speak with you.”
Preston’s eyes flashed with interest. Just like Paul said, the man was bored.
“You want to speak with me? How interesting.” He gestured for Wes to sit down, then pointed to the other chair. “Please. Sit.”
Before I could even start moving, Rob was pushing me toward the empty seat. I pulled myself free from his grip and walked forward of my own accord. What part of me wanting to be there did Rob not understand?
Once seated, Preston clasped his hands on the table and flashed a set of straight white teeth. “You’re here to save poor Dallas, aren’t you? Or, at least, you think you are.”
He looked over at Rob and Wes in turn. “It’s all very Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? Except of course that Juliet’s going to live and marry someone else and Romeo’s still going to die.”
“I want to make a wager with you,” I stated.
Preston’s attention returned to me, and his smile deepened. “A wager? Go on then; you have my attention.”
I cleared my throat and stared him boldly in the eye. “One fight. You and Wes versus me. If I win, Dallas and her father are free to leave and their debt is forgiven.”
“And if we win?”
“You can kill me.”
Preston studied me for a moment and then burst into laughter. His menacing eyes, the color of torched wood, filled with glee. “I can kill you? Who said I need your permission to kill you? I could kill you right now and save all the hassle.”
“True,” I acknowledged. “But I think you’d enjoy it more if you beat me soundly and in return I gave in completely. Admitted defeat. Fuck, I’ll even pull the trigger myself if that’s what gets you off. Killing me now, on the other hand...” I shrugged. “Where’s the sport in that?”
Preston leaned back in his chair, hinges creaking. He twiddled his thumbs in his lap and stared blankly at the space above my head.
“You’re not actually considering this!” Wes said in a voice laced with disgust. “Just kill him!”
“Why, Wes?” I asked. “You afraid to lose?”
Wes curled his lip, face turning beet red. He was afraid to lose. He was close to getting everything he’d ever wanted, and me and my little suggestion were the only things in his way.
Before Wes could rummage up a reply, Preston slapped his hands on the table and stood.
“Very well, then. If you’re delusional enough to think that you can win against my son and me in a fight, then I’ll indulge your madness long enough to show you just how wrong you are.”
I rose and squared my shoulders. “Good.”
Wes shot to his feet and rounded the desk. “Dad, this is stupid. Just kill him now.”
“Shut up, Wes.” Preston beckoned Rob. “Go get Dallas and Randall and meet us out front.”
We walked out to the driveway, which soon filled with faces as Preston’s friends and employees gathered to satisfy their curiosity. My heart was pounding almost painfully, but I forced it to slow. This was just like any other mission, where the threat of death always hung low above my head. I wasn’t a teenager anymore, and I wasn’t afraid.
I was a soldier.
Rob returned with Dallas and Randall, whose expressions quickly deviated from surprise to horror.
“Shane!” Dallas called, trying to break Rob’s grip and run for me. He was too strong.
“It’s okay!” I smiled. “I know what I’m doing.”
“He doesn’t,” Preston cut in. “In fact, my dear, you’re about to watch your boyfriend die.”
Dallas screamed and struggled, kicking and gnashing her teeth in an attempt to get to me. It broke my heart.
Before I could say anything else, Preston stepped into the middle of the assembled onlookers and spread his arms wide. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have for you today an extraordinary form of entertainment.”
The crowd cheered.
“This idiot over here has challenged my son and me to a fight. If we lose, Randall and Dallas are free from us forever. If we win, this match will turn from fight to execution.”
The cheers were soon interspersed with whispers, either of excitement, revulsion, or curiosity. I didn’t recognize most of the people there. I wondered how many of them had ever watched a person die.
“Can I have a second to talk to Dallas before we do this?” I asked.
Preston shrugged. “I’m a reasonable man. You can have thirty. Starting now.”
Rob released Dallas and she ran for me, slamming into my torso and squeezing her arms tight around me. In the background, Preston began to count down.
“30, 29...”
“Dallas, listen to me.” I cupped her face in my hands and looked deep into her eyes. “I love you. I love you more than anything.”
“25, 24...”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
“I have to try. I’m so sorry, Dallas. I would go to the ends of the earth for you and maybe today I will. If I don’t make it out of this, I want you to stay safe.”
“20, 19...”
“Do whatever they tell you to do,” I continued. “But never stop trying to get out and never lose your spirit. As long as you stay strong, they can’t touch you. Not where it matters most.”
“11, 10...”
“I love you,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Shane.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I ran a thumb across her cheek. “Loving you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” I split into a comical grin. “Plus, how many men get the chance to die for the woman they love?”
“1, 0!”
Rob lurched forward and snatched Dallas’s arm to draw her away from me. She screamed and clawed at him, even though she knew it was pointless. I expect she just needed someone to rage against.
Wes and Preston took up spots opposite me. Preston rolled up the sleeves of his black designer dress shirt with a wry grin. Wes stood like a statue of granite and hate.
“Shall we?” Preston asked.
I dropped into a fighter’s stance and gave him a short nod. The crowd roared their approval.
Preston was in his forties, but he was a good fighter in his day, and I suspected he would make a formidable opponent. I already knew that Wes was strong, but he preferred to let other people do the fighting for him, which meant he was probably insecure about his ability. One of them was overconfident, one of them was under-confident. My best bet would be to play on Preston’s confidence to make him sloppy and try to humiliate Wes into anger.
Before I knew it, Preston and Wes had both lunged at me. As they knocked me back with powerful punches to my face and stomach, I began to wonder if I’d get the chance to use any strategy at all. They were relentless.
A humming in my eardrum soon drowned out the sound of the cheering crowd. Preston’s jeering snarl filled my vision, and then he punched me so hard in the jaw that my head cracked back. Distantly I heard a woman screaming.
Dallas.
Blood pounded in my ears, and my aching body longed for a rest, but I knew I had to power through. She was relying on me. She needed me. If I failed today her life was over, and I couldn’t live for even a second with that on my conscience. Rather than spend my afterlife in agony, I decided to finish this the right way, right now.
I kept my second wind to myself as Preston continued to pummel me. He jockeyed for space in front of Wes, blocking his son from being able to hit me. I’d never seen Preston with such joy before, like he was simultaneously experiencing a thousand Christmas mornings. But it wasn’t Christmas.
It was Saint Patrick’s Day, and Saint Patrick’s Day was for the fucking Irish.
Preston wound up for a long cross, and I nimbly ducked it and tackled into his stomach, lifting him from the ground and to
ssing him back over my shoulder into the gravel. He landed with a hoarse gasp. I didn’t give him a second to breathe, hopping on him and punching left and right across his face. Blood spurted from his nose. His hands scrambled at my back to pull me off, but it was too late.
It felt like a lifetime, but I was only on top of Preston for a few seconds before Wes’s body slammed mine to the ground. I rolled across the driveway as we both fought for dominance. He straddled my chest and landed a solid hit on my nose. A loud pop echoed through my skull. I roared with anger. I couldn’t feel the pain, not yet. I grabbed Wes by each arm, but instead of pushing him away, as he expected, I pulled him close and head-butted him hard in the nose. He fell to the side, cradling his injured face.
Preston was struggling to get up a few feet away, but he kept falling back to the ground.
“Wes! Get the fuck up!” Preston raged, blood and spittle flying from his mouth.
Wes stood shakily to his feet at the same time as me, though he didn’t attack straightaway. He hung back. His eyes darted around the circle as if looking for an escape, which made me smile.
Wes was afraid.
I slammed my left fist into his gut and knocked his jaw with a powerful uppercut that sent him staggering backward. He moaned and fell to one knee. Blood streamed from his mouth and nose.
“Do you yield?” I asked.
“No!” Preston yelled.
I turned to see him still clambering upright. Wes would have to wait a minute. I stalked up to him and with a solid, decisive punch, decked him out back to the ground, stone cold unconscious. The crowd gasped.
I turned back to Wes. “Do you yield?”
Wes’s chest heaved with the force of his breath, but the nod was unmistakable.
The crowd went completely silent. Nelson and another guy raced forward to Preston and crouched around him. I caught eyes with Paul across from me, whose lips twitched into a tiny smile. He nodded at me. Rob let go of Dallas to attend to Wes, and she came barreling toward me.
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