The way Lucien darted away from me and shoved his junk back in his pants makes it clear that he doesn’t want his wife to know what dirty deeds he’s been getting up to at night. I wonder how she’d feel if I shared it with her? Hell, I wonder how she’d feel if she found out that the bastard had a son all this time while she had to go to extreme lengths of having my parents murdered and me and Blake kidnapped just so that she could play the perfect doting parent role at the school PTA meeting.
I try to pull myself up to a sitting position and straighten my shirt as I go, knowing how she will reprimand me for such simple things. Old habits die hard. It’s hard shuffling myself around with my hand attached to the bedpost but she glares at me as though she doesn’t even see it.
Unable to help the snide comment on my lips, I let her have it. “Believe me, it wasn’t my choice to come back here. I was kidnapped.”
Maria steps up to the side of the bed and her hand snakes out, slapping me across my face as her anger overwhelms her. My only saving grace is that she hit the opposite side of my face that Lucien has already been targeting.
“Watch your tone. You wouldn’t have the slightest idea of the torture you and your brother have put us through pulling such a ridiculous little stunt like running away,” she snaps. “Now be grateful that Lucien was willing to go all the way out to that godforsaken town and collect the two of you.”
“Two of us?” I scoff. “Unfortunately, my brother was not able to remove himself from the hospital to make the trip.”
“Hospital?” she grunts in question, flicking her eyes toward her husband.
My brow raises as I glance across to Lucien, whose face goes impossibly still. I grin, more than ready to dump him in a pile of shit. “Oh, your dick of a husband shattered his leg and left him in a ditch to die. He was lucky to get out of there alive. His leg is currently being held together by pins. Who knows if he’ll ever be able to play basketball again?”
Darkness spreads over Maria’s face as she turns to face Lucien. “Tell me you did not touch my boy?” she growls between a clenched jaw.
Lucien narrows his eyes at his wife as though they’re about to have some sort of power struggle. “I did what I had to do.”
“When was this?”
“Last Saturday night,” I supply helpfully, knowing he’ll never be honest.
Her attention snaps back to Lucien. “I sent you to bring my children home that night, not to hurt them.”
Her children? Like hell.
“Oh, you didn’t want him to hurt us?” I question, smugly. “What about when he visited Aston Creek last month and rammed me and my boyfriend off a bridge and stood at the top, shooting at us until the car was completely submerged underwater.”
“That’s a lie,” she accuses. “Lucien would never do that.”
“You want to see the scar from where the bullet lodged into my thigh? What about the bruising on my ribs that still hasn’t completely faded from being resuscitated?”
Her eyes narrow at me and she waits a moment before turning to Lucien. “Leave us.”
Lucien’s jaw tightens and his eyes turn to slits as he glares at me but before he has a chance to fight it, Maria takes a step toward him. “Now.”
Without another word, Lucien hesitantly starts making his way for the door when Maria steps in and blocks him. She holds her hand out, palm face up and waiting. My brows furrow as I watch their silent conversation and then with a heavy sigh, Lucien digs into his pocket and produces the key for the handcuffs.
Maria curls the key into her hand and crosses her arms over her chest, silently waiting for Lucien to leave.
I watch them in shock. Maria really does wear the pants here. In fact, she doesn’t just wear the pants, she wears the shoes, socks, and shirt. Lucien is her bitch man, though after learning that she is Anton Mathers’ cousin, I really shouldn’t be surprised.
I watch with a grin as Lucien slinks out the door and slams it closed behind him, clearly not thrilled that he doesn’t get to rape the minor in the room today…but, there’s always tomorrow.
“I don’t know what you’re so smug about,” Maria whips. “You have repeatedly humiliated me over the past few months. Do you have any idea what it feels like to host a bridal shower without the bride? I had to tell them that you were in bed unwell. Do you know how bad that looked? Half of your guests were assuming you were upstairs hiding a baby bump. It would have been the scandal of the year. If Marcus was to hear about this…”