Hades says, “I’m going to put you down. Don’t try anything stupid.”
As soon as my feet touch the ground, I take off. What this jerk doesn’t know is I was on the cross-country track team in college. And I was quite good. The end of the alley comes in sight and I take in a deep breath, getting ready to call for help. That’s when I hear the loud footsteps pounding behind me. And they’re close. Too close.
“No!” I cry out, as strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back into the shadows.
His face is close to my ear, and he isn’t even winded.
“I warned you, Princess.”
2
Hades takes me back to where his goons wait. Anger rolls off him in waves, and I know I’ve made a mistake in running. He reaches into the bag on the side of his motorcycle, pulling out a knife.
I shrink back. “Please don’t hurt me. I promise I won’t run again.”
His dark eyes narrow. “You think I’m going to cut you?”
I nod once, and he lets out a string of curses.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Princess. I’m the good guy in this story. I saved your father, and now I’m saving you from a life of misery with your fiancé. I’m sure as fuck not going to cut you, unless you really piss me off. Got it?”
I want to believe him, but I don’t know him. I mean, he literally just stole me from my engagement party.
“Then what’s the knife for?”
“For your dress.”
“My dress?”
He grabs for me, holding the skirt of my dress in his hand. I try to pull away, but only manage to tear the delicate red silk. Using his knife, he cuts it so short that it barely covers my butt.
“You just ruined a ten-thousand-dollar gown!”
His goons laugh, while a smile plays at his lips.
“Add it to my bill, Princess. Now, I’m going to get on the bike. Be a good girl and climb on behind me.” He puts the knife away, but adds, “Don’t try anything funny.”
“You don’t honestly expect me to get on that…thing, do you?”
His eyebrow lifts as he climbs onto the bike. Oh my good god, he’s serious. I’ve never been on a motorcycle, but I’ve been on a horse. It’s got to be the same concept, right? Carefully, I climb onto the seat behind him, hating that I have to use his shoulder for support. And when I’m on the bike? Lord have mercy. I’m practically straddling him in a very intimate way. Heat radiates from his body, and even though it’s hot outside, I shiver.
He glances over his shoulder. “Hold on to me and lean into the turns.”
“What?”
I have no idea what he means. He starts his bike and I gasp at the sound and vibration. This isn’t a part of town bikers frequent. Maybe a security guard will come out to see who’s making all this noise. The sound is amplified when the other bikes start. We take off, and I cry out, grabbing onto the back of Hades’ jacket. Guess that’s what he meant when he said to hold onto him.
We speed down the streets, taking turn after turn, until I feel sick. At one point we pass a restaurant where several people sit on a patio. I think I see a camera flash, but can’t be sure. Closing my eyes, I try to keep my panic at bay. By the time the bike comes to a stop, I’m fighting my roiling stomach.
“I-I don’t feel so good.”
I manage to scramble from the bike before vomiting all over the paved sidewalk.
A man laughs. “Well, that was unexpected. Can’t say this is the first time I’ve married someone because they’re knocked up. Come on. You’re late.”
Looking up, I realize we’re at a small church, where the man stands.
“I’m not pregnant, thank you very much.”
My words fall on deaf ears.
“Come on, Princess. You heard the man. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
“You’re out of your mind! I’m not marrying you, and you can’t make me.”
The air shifts between us, and he grabs my arm, pulling me aside.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I got your old man out of a heap of trouble. In exchange for my help, me promised me your hand in marriage.”
“Hate to break it to you, but this is the twenty-first century. Women have rights. And I’m not marrying you.”
My reply hardens his features, but I don’t care that he’s mad. I hate this man and won’t go willingly into this.
He pulls out his phone, swiping. “Watch this and then tell me again that you’re not marrying me.”
He shoves the phone at me as a video plays. Dread fills my body. A car I know very well hits a man walking on the sidewalk in broad daylight. My father gets out, clearly intoxicated. He reaches into his pocket for his phone. A few moments later two motorcycles arrive, and I can tell one of the men is Hades, even on the grainy footage. He speaks to my father, and they shake hands. The screen goes blank, but I can pretty much guess what happens next.
“Did the man die?”
“He’s alive, if you can call it that. He’s paralyzed from the neck down.”
“So…what? My father calls you for help and now you think that somehow I owe you?” I shake my head. “No.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You seem to think you have a choice, Princess. You don’t.”
3
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m out of here.”
Reaching into my dress, I grab my phone that’s tucked inside my bra. I’ve just gotten the Uber app open when Hades takes it from my hands.
“One call, Princess.”
“What?”
“All I have to do is make one call and that video hits the press. Your father will be ruined by dawn, and, by default, so will you. You’ll get to see the hard way how quickly society will turn its back on you.”
“I don’t care.”
“You may not, but your agent will. So will producers and directors in Hollywood. To the world, you won’t be America’s darling anymore. And that women’s shelter you volunteer at? Well, they’ll quietly ask you to stop coming so they don’t get bad press. Your father will end up in prison. Or worse. In the end, you’ll find yourself lonelier than you’ve ever been in your life. Is that something you can live with?”
My chest squeezes in anguish as I realize he’s right. I might not care, but the world will. They’ve been obsessed with me for years, grasping onto any tidbit and running with it. Something like this will ruin me, and then how will I be able to help others?
“Why go through the trouble of marrying me? You clearly don’t even like me.”
“I need something that you have.”
“Money?”
He laughs, loud and deep. “No, Princess. I need your good name and the press that comes with it. You see, my club is facing some unwanted attention right now from the Feds. Once they find out that I’ve married Senator Hamilton’s daughter, they’ll stop digging. Especially once your father gives them a call.”
“If the Feds are looking into your club, then I’m sure it’s warranted.”