“The family makes us stronger,” I said. “We’re nothing as individuals. But as the family, we can make things happen.”
“You mean, you can get rich.” She gave me a look, but she was smiling. I liked the way her eyes crinkled, even if she laughed at my expense.
“There’s that, but there’s also protection, and people want to be a part of something. Don’t you want a family?”
She shrugged. “The only family I’ve ever known was my father, and he didn’t do much for me. I tended bar at his club for most of my life and dreamed about running away.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked. We rounded a bend in the path and the stream appeared ahead, trickling through the forest.
She stopped and watched it, hugging her arms around herself. “I was afraid, I guess,” she said.
“Are you still afraid?” I stood next to her, watching the water. I’d been in these woods so many times growing up and everything felt so familiar, but also so much smaller than I remembered. Back then, this place was like a vast jungle, and now it was only a little wooded area, nothing special, nothing unique.
The magic was gone. I mourned that, in a way.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m still here.”
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to. I can find some other way to get your uncle’s loyalty.”
“But I can’t find another way to get rich,” she said, and glanced up at me. “You must be desperate if you’re willing to marry a stranger.”
I looked back at her. “You must be too.”
She chewed on her lip. “Maybe you’re right.”
I wanted to touch her cheek again or place my hand on the small of her back. She seemed so tiny, and I felt the sudden urge to kiss her neck, her throat, pull her hair, make her gasp. She met my gaze and knew what I was thinking—I could see it in her eyes, the way they widened and her breathing got faster, and she hugged herself tighter.
But now wasn’t the time. I couldn’t force her. I broke away and turned back to the house, leaving her near the stream.
“Keep thinking about it,” I said as I walked back down the path. “The contract’s signed. All you need to do is say the word and we’ll make it official.”
“Ten million,” she called after me. “You’re good for it, right?”
“I better be,” I said, waving as I left her there.
I liked that girl. Hell, I wanted that girl. I didn’t know if that made things easier, or if it made everything so much more complicated.
4
Mags
Birds flitted between the branches and a woodpecker landed on the edge of the mansion’s gutters, its face clattering against the plastic with a loud rapping sound. I leaned my back against the trunk of an old oak tree with spreading branches and big fat leaves with thick veins and breathed the smell of pollen and grass clippings, and I felt for the first time maybe in my entire life that I could do anything I wanted.
Close to freedom. Not quite, since the mansion still loomed there, and I knew what was inside—Dean, with his contract and the marriage and everything else. My uncle was out there in the world, my dad too, but in the mansion’s yard I could pretend for a little bit at least.
Pretend that I didn’t want Dean. That I wasn’t interested.
He was being fair. He was being disgustingly fair. I wanted to be pissed at him for it, but found I couldn’t quite manage the rage. He was willing to let me off the hook, even after having signed the contract that stipulated my pay. I guess it was technically a prenup, but whatever. Even still, he said I could walk whenever I wanted if I chose not to go through with this.
It was so stupidly reasonable and I hated that.
I was used to men being unreasonable. To men taking what they wanted without any thought to what they broke or what they hurt. Clumsy, stupid men, ham-fisted men.
Dean wasn’t that. He was graceful and kind and smart, and dangerous. I could see the danger in him, lurking beneath that polished, handsome exterior.
My uncle wouldn’t work for a man that wasn’t part killer. Even with a marriage proposal in hand.
It pissed me off, how easily it would be to get away from here.
I shaded my eyes as the back door opened. Bea stepped out wearing her usual jeans, button-down, and apron. She spotted me and waved, and I waved back. I didn’t know what to make of the housekeeper—she was kind, and tried her best to make me feel welcome and at home, but she was very much involved in Dean’s daily affairs. She sat in on the meetings and though she walked around with a charming smile, she had the same sort of aura about her that Dean did, like she had a secret, and that secret involved many, many dead bodies.