Taken Bride (The Secret Bride 3)

1

Ember

Desert thunderstorms possess an energy that can’t fully be described. You must live it. See it. Breathe it. Be it.

Powerful, majestic, beautiful, and even eerie.

You can feel the intensity in the air right before they begin. Your senses come alive; your skin tingles as you anxiously wait for the storm to come.

You can also smell it. The sagebrush releases a scent as if to welcome the dark clouds. Almost like an aphrodisiac seducing the storm to come. The dust settles, and for a brief moment, the desert has a certain freshness to it. That is, until the rain comes. The rain replaces the fresh with an earthy musk as the droplets bounce off the hard and dry ground below.

I always loved thunderstorms in the Nevada desert. Summer nights were riddled with them, and I welcomed each one with excitement and appreciation for how the lightning daggered across the gray sky. They were loud, scary, even dangerous, but I gladly watched each one with awe. I loved how they rolled in unexpectedly at times, and other times, you saw them coming from miles away.

But the thunderstorm around me right now is threatening to strike me down. The lightning going off in my heart and soul is tearing me to shreds. The storm brewing is so intense that I may not walk away from the wreckage it’s causing.

“I need you to come with me downstairs,” Louisa says, hooking her finger at me to come along.

I’m paralyzed for a moment, but as if under a trance, I eventually follow.

As we reach the top of the stairs, my knees nearly buckle as I look down below. As insanity nears, I hear her say, “They’re waiting for you.”

She’s led me into the eye of the storm, and the hurricane of emotions steals what little bit of sanity I have left.

Papa Rich.

Scarecrow.

They’re here.

Oh my God, they are here.

I try to blink away the madness, but it’s determined to stay.

“You knew where they were all along, didn’t you?” I prompt Louisa without looking at her. My eyes are pinned on Papa Rich and Scarecrow down below in the foyer.

“No, but I have the resources to hire the best in the world to hunt them down. I had no intentions of resting until they were found.”

“Why?” I barely squeak out. “Why do this to us? You knew Christopher and I were trying to stay hidden. We wanted to keep the darkness away. You knew this. So why?”

“Because I’m a mother. I understand your father in many ways. There’s nothing a parent wouldn’t do for their children. Nothing.” Her voice—calm and collected—sends a shiver down my spine.

“Ember,” Papa Rich says as he reaches his hand up to me. “It’s time to leave.”

This can’t be real.

This can’t be happening… and yet it is.

I look over my shoulder at Louisa, not sure what to do next. Alarm bells are banging against my bones, feeling as if they’re splintering beneath my flesh. Internal screams are demanding I run away from everyone in the house as fast as I can.

I need to find my husband… now. Christopher will fix this. Christopher will make it safe again. He’ll save me. He’ll save us.

But my feet are planted, and no matter what I do, I can’t move.

Insanity is a sticky motherfucker.

“Christopher—”

“Deserves to be set free,” Louisa interrupts. “He didn’t choose you. He was forced to take you as his wife, and then his morals and overall good-natured personality made him feel responsible for you. This is not love, Ember. Maybe it’s devotion at most, but not love. You are just as bad as Richard. You are stealing his freedom. You are shackling him to your broken self. You are his captor now, and I’m doing everything within my power to save my son. Nothing more than that. He deserves to be rescued.”

You are his captor now.

You are his captor now.

You are his captor now.

Maybe I always have been….

“We need to get moving, girl,” Scarecrow chimes in from below. “The pilot said he’ll only wait one hour.”

If my eyes were lasers, they would sear Louisa’s Botoxed skin from her old lady bones. “You brought them here. You didn’t just find them, but you also helped them come to New York to take me back with them, didn’t you?” I ask Louisa, not glancing down at Scarecrow as he spoke.

Maybe if I don’t look at them at the bottom of the stairs, they will disappear like ghosts. Maybe this is a nightmare. It’s not real. If I just don’t look and see them….

Louisa still hasn’t moved an inch. She’s near, but not close enough for me to strike out and hurt her, which I’m considering doing—if only I could move.

“I have the power to help people, and I have the power to hurt people. In this case, I’ve chosen to help your papa Rich.”