“Last I checked, it’s a free country. I’m allowed to ride a horse, hubs. Whether you like it or not.”
“The country is free, but the horses are not. Hamilton belongs to me, and I don’t want you riding him. Ceann beag.” Kill turned to his brother again, snarling, “Beat it before I beat you.”
“Sorry, doll. There’s a reason he has a demon in his garden fountain and not a cherub or a fawn. You married Satan, and I don’t want the fucker to assign me a room in hell. He’ll probably put me in the same cul-de-sac with Hitler and the dude who invented berry-flavored La Croix. I deserve better neighbors. Just following orders.” Hunter pushed two fingers into his mouth and whistled, redirecting our friends to a side trail, leaving Cillian and me on the main one.
Lava simmered in my belly. Every inch of my body charred with humiliation.
How dare he scold me publicly after avoiding me the entire weekend?
Our entire marriage?
In the back of my head, something else also bugged me. Something completely trivial.
Cillian had a demon-shaped fountain in his garden, but I hadn’t seen it before. Not even the day Petar snuck me into the house for a tour when Kill wasn’t home.
“I’m getting you off this horse,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Why don’t we start with you just getting me off? You seem to be having trouble in that department,” I hissed out.
“The first and last time I touched you, you came so hard I was worried my dick would have to be removed from you surgically.”
“That was accidental.” All the blood rushing to my face made me hot and sweaty.
“So was my giving you an orgasm.”
“You really want me to hate you, don’t you?”
I didn’t know what I expected when I married him, but it definitely wasn’t this. The hermetic resistance no one could pierce.
“Sailor is not riding,” he pointed out.
“Sailor is pregnant.”
“As far as we know, you could be, too.”
His temper was frayed, and I couldn’t figure out why. I’d stayed well away from him the entire weekend. What else did he want? He seemed to be put off by my existence, and I was growing tired of it.
“If I am pregnant, it’s at a very early stage.”
“All the more reason to be careful.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kill. Don’t give me this bullshit as though you actually care about my well-being.” My voice cracked, and I turned to face him, momentarily forgetting I was on a horse.
His nostrils flared, and he let go of his rein to pop his fingers.
“Do not curse.”
“Or else?” My chin felt wobbly, much like my insides. My grip on the reins tightened. “What’re you gonna do about it? You’re already the worst possible husband a woman could have.”
That wasn’t exactly true, seeing as Pax was the reigning champion of Worst Husband for this calendar year, but I wanted to hurt him back. To make him feel the way he made me feel.
“By the way, are we going to have sex once a month and pray I get knocked up? How’re we going to do this thing? Please let me know because I’m starting to realize you haven’t thought your genius plan through!”
My voice carried with an echo that ricocheted on the treetops, shaking the ground beneath Hamilton’s hooves.
Hushed murmurs seeped from the parallel trail our friends were taking.
“…my sister!”
“…can hold her own.”
“I swear to God, if he hurts her…”
“She’ll hurt him back. You said it yourself, Belle. She’s not a kid anymore.”
Our friends were arguing whether to step in or not.
Now everyone knew we were a mess, and whatever was left of my hope to make this marriage resemble normalcy flew out the window.
“You’re being a brat,” Cillian said coolly, regaining his composure.
“You’re being a coward.” My teeth chattered with fury.
Hamilton stirred beneath me, his strides jerky and uneven. I ran a hand over my face. “Seriously, if you’re going to ignore me for the rest of our lives, just grant me a divorce. I’ll pay you back the money, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Never.” His tone turned steely. Punishing. “I’ll give you a lot of things, Flower Girl, but divorce won’t be one of them.”
“That so? I’ll tell Sailor, Belle, and Hunter. I’m sure they’d love to know what you roped me into.”
“Go ahead.” He tapped the side of his boot to his horse, making it go faster. “See how much power other people have on me. You’ll find the exact amount is absolutely none.”
“So you won’t have me, but you won’t let me go. Do you just want me to be miserable like you?”
His nostrils flared. He looked like he was about to say something, but of course he didn’t. He never did. He never explained himself to me.
“I hate you,” I screamed, and without thinking, stomped my foot to the horse’s side. Hamilton bolted forward in a rage. Before I knew what was happening, I was flailing above the horse, my body suspended over the saddle, bumping against his sides as he sprinted. I yelped, trying to grab the reins, my fingers grasping air.