The Outcome

Emma~

“I knew I picked you for a reason.” He grins down at me, and I just stare at him with my best impression of a ‘What the hell’ face.

From all his spitting and grumbling just a second ago, I expected... well, not that. What could I have done or said to possibly make him so amused?

“I’m trapped with a maniac,” I let out slowly, but rather than react, Orion just rolls his eyes and grabs my arm again.

This time, no amount of struggling seems to get him to let go, and I resort to kicking at his shins. Childish? Yes, but it’s usually a lot more effective than this.

“Will you always treat your husband with such respect?” He asks conversationally as he drags me out of the room.

I try to dig my heels in the floor to slow us down, but all that achieves is leaving scratch marks against the original oak. I hope my late mother can forgive me for this, as I’d much rather this never happened either, and I know how much she loved this flooring.

“I treat my family with the utmost respect. You on the other hand would have to earn it, Orion.” I spit at him as I fight against his grip, and he pauses for a second before smiling down at me.

It’s frustrating to see how little my efforts seem to affect him when pushing back.

“I’m glad you think we’re close enough to forgo formalities, Emma. I’ll take it as a good sign.” He scrunches his nose condescendingly at me, and for a second I contemplate actually spitting in his face. Unfortunately, I decide that the act is far too vulgar for me, even if aimed at him.

We’re now in the large entry hall, and people must have heard either my struggling or our arguing as my father, my brother, and what I assume to be his colleague exit the study.

Great, another audience.

“Now, do you need the night to collect your things, or are you happy to let me buy them for you new?” Orion acts as if he doesn’t have a death grip on my upper bicep, and at the sight of it, I see my brother’s face turn purple.

Oh hell, this isn’t going to be good. The last time someone so much as looked at me funny, Owen had them pinned by their throat against a wall, and I don’t trust him to read the room well enough to preserve himself. Come to think of it, the fact nobody batted an eye even back then should have told me that this place wasn’t strictly business.

“You’re taking her nowhere,” Owen yells before my father steps in and orders him to stand down.

I know why he’s doing this, and I appreciate the position Orion has put him in, but I can’t deny the hurt I feel when he defends the man currently holding me hostage. What happened to letting me make my own choice? Or does he think that I already have?

“I’ll do with my WIFE, what I like, boy.” Orion snarls, and I try to angle myself between them before he can speak again. “Who do you think you are to her anyway?”

From the tone, it’s clear he doesn’t realize that he’s speaking to my brother, and it’s fair to say that he’s blown the chance to ever get close to his possible in-laws. Not like I’d accept him myself anyway.

Orion snakes his arm around my waist while waiting for Owen’s answer, and rather than sit back and watch, I take hold of his fingers and bend them back as far as I can. Self-defense classes are nonnegotiable in this family, and I’m very much grateful for that fact, if not slightly disturbed now that I realize why that’s the case.

Unfortunately, irritation shows on Orion’s face, rather than pain, and I let Owen take this moment to answer him. “I’m her brother, you idiot.” He says, while maintaining a distance in accordance with my father’s instruction.

Orion stiffens a bit before replying. “Lucky you, you get to live... this time.”

That does it, and I twist to face him. “Threaten my family again, and I’ll cut off your balls and feed you them.”

“Already thinking about my balls, Princess? Please, your brother’s present!” He mocks outrage, but I ignore him and the distasteful nickname he continues to push. My threat is a promise, and I have no interest in continuing this conversation with him now that I’ve accepted my fate.

He’s clearly not going to let this drop, and I’d never live with myself if my father died when I could have prevented it. I’ll have to do it, marry this brute and give up the life I’ve always dreamed of. At least I’m protecting the people I love in the process though, that’s got to count for something, right?

Realizing this, and my sudden lack of objections, he asks again, “Are you ready to leave? Or do you need more convincing?”