If I marry this man and help him take over.
“You know I despise you, right?” I say softly, almost afraid to say it out loud. He’s still smiling. “I despise all of you. Your father, your mother. Your cousins and uncles and aunts. Cait used to talk about them, you know? She hated them too, everyone except for you and your mother, but she didn’t see you like I see you.”
“And how do you see me?”
“You did nothing to help her.” I blink a few times as tears roll down and drip off my wine glass onto the floor. I didn’t realize I was crying, but now it’s so obvious, of course I’m crying, it’s like I’ve been crying for seven years straight but working out in the desert has sapped all the water from my body and left me a dried husk of the girl I used to be.
“I didn’t know.”
“You all knew. Your family forced her into it, bit by bit, and you ignored it until she was too far gone to save.”
“You went with her. Don’t forget that.” He stands, a big man, a strong man. Beautiful in his way. Terrifying. “You can blame me and my family all you want, but you were there. You held the needle. You cooked the shit. You plunged it into your veins just like she did. Don’t tell me I’m responsible.”
I release one hard sob and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I try to walk past him but he doesn’t let me. He pushes me back against the wall and glares at me, breathing hard, rage in his eyes. I look back and let the tears roll down my face, because he’s right and he’s wrong, and nothing really matters. Not anymore.
“Marry me,” he says through his teeth. “Be my wife. Do the right thing for once.”
“I can’t.”
“You can and you will.” He shakes his head, his hands moving down to grip my hips. God, it feels good, his fingers biting into my skin. Why’s he touching me like that? Like he’s going to kiss me right now? I want him to hold me harder. I want him to make it hurt. “You didn’t stay here for seven years out of the goodness of your heart. You didn’t stay because you love it. You have an agenda.”
“I love the gardens.”
“Maybe you do, but you have an agenda.” He’s so close, his hands holding me like we’re intimate. It’s the nearest to a man I’ve been in a long, long time—maybe since ever. “I can help you and you can help me. Cait’s gone and she’s not coming back. We can blame each other all we want, but why don’t we do something to the people that are really responsible?”
“Your father’s dead.”
“But the rest of the family’s still here.” He grips me harder and pins me with his body. He’s so warm and muscular and he’s like a crushing wave ready to hold me down against the ocean floor. He’s ready to drown me. “Help me, Tara, and I can help you.”
With that, he recedes. He backs away and I’m left breathing hard. He throws back his drink and gently places the glass near the sink.
“Thanks for the drink,” he says and walks out.