The Wolf and His Wife

by Penelope Sky

  “I’m not much of a talker.”

  He chuckled. “Neither am I. That’s why I’ve always liked you.” He gestured to the gun, signaling for his men to follow his orders.

  One of the guys grabbed the gun in the center of the table then opened the barrel. He showed it to both of us—proving that it was empty.

  I nodded.

  Kamikaze did the same.

  He grabbed a single bullet from his pocket and dropped it in a single slot. His thumb clicked in the barrel then he gave it a hard spin, making the bullet cycle into a random position. The gun was placed on the table once again, between the two of us.

  Staring at the gun forced me to accept reality. This was happening. On the first go, I had a one-in-six chance of blowing my brains out. With every turn, the odds got higher and higher…until one of us finally croaked.

  Kamikaze snapped his fingers. “Can we get some drinks over here? We’ll both take a scotch—neat.”

  The guys scrambled around until the glasses were placed in front of us.

  Arwen stayed in the corner, her muffled tears slightly audible. She sniffled occasionally, doing her best to stay strong but failing miserably. Good thing Kamikaze respected my wishes and kept his gaze on me.

  “Coin toss?” He brought the glass to his lips and took a drink.

  I gave a slight nod.

  The same guy who handled the gun pulled a euro out of his pocket. He held it up for both of us to see, then he placed it on his thumb. “Call it in the air.” He released his finger and launched the coin to the ceiling.

  I kept my gaze locked on his as I heard the coin flip into the air.

  Kamikaze made the call before it landed back in his palm. “Heads, he goes first.”

  Going first gave the best chance of survival because the odds of not getting the bullet were the greatest. But regardless of who went first, they were still shitty odds.

  The man caught the quarter and looked at the landing. “Heads.”

  Arwen sucked in a deep breath through her teeth.

  I didn’t blink an eye over it. I still had a chance to survive this.

  Kamikaze smiled like he disagreed.

  I brought my glass to my lips and took a long drink before I reached for the gun. Silver and heavy, it was an antique. It was the kind of weapon used for special occasions like this, not in open combat. It was far too valuable to use on a random person. This gun was meant to give a dignified death.

  I examined the weapon and felt the heft in my hand before I pointed it at my temple.

  “Oh my god.” Arwen immediately lost her cool. She started to hyperventilate and sob. “No…”

  Kamikaze kept his eyes on me.

  My finger hugged the trigger, and I looked into the eyes of my enemy, feeling my heart rate pick up slightly when I understood I could die in the next few seconds. I would squeeze the trigger—and either live or die.

  Kamikaze held up his glass, like he was making a toast.

  My fingers tightened on the trigger, but I didn’t pull it just yet. I could hear Arwen struggling in the corner, her tears throbbing out of her throat. I wanted us both to walk out of there alive. But just because I wanted that, didn’t mean it would happen.

  Squeeze.

  The gun clicked, but the bullet never came.

  Arwen sucked in another deep breath, her cries still audible.

  I set the gun in the middle of the table and grabbed my scotch again.

  Kamikaze snatched the gun, pointed it at his temple, grinned like a psychopath, and then pulled the trigger—in less than a couple of seconds. Like a man with a death wish, he didn’t take the time to savor the scotch on his tongue, the air in his lungs. He was such a maniac that there was no need to pause. It actually gave him a high.

  He slid the gun back toward me. “We’re at fifty-fifty, Maverick.”

  The gun sat in front of me, the silver weapon looking more intimidating now that my odds had just decreased significantly. This was the third try, which meant I had a twenty-five percent chance of getting the bullet.

  I didn’t like those odds.

  Arwen became louder, not bothering to try to be quiet anymore. Her distress was like a car alarm in the middle of the night.

  I picked up the gun and pointed it at my head.

  Now I didn’t feel so good about this.

  “No…please.” Arwen abandoned her attempt at being strong. She was coming apart with every second—and I couldn’t help her.

  I had to win—but I had no control over that.

  Kamikaze swirled his glass before he took a drink. “What are you waiting for, Maverick?”

  My finger wrapped around the trigger, and I kept my hand steady. It didn’t matter how fearless a man was. When an enemy shot you in the head, you held your head high until the end. But to pull the trigger on yourself…that took a whole new level of courage. It went against biological nature to kill yourself so brutally. But I had to pull the trigger—no matter what happened.

  Squeeze.

  “Stop…” Arwen slid down to the floor, openly weeping in both terror and relief.

  I pushed the gun toward him. My reaction was still stoic, but my heart relaxed now that the threat was over. Hopefully, he got the bullet on this round. He would be dead, and all my problems would be solved.

  If only I were that lucky.

  Even though he had a sixty-six percent chance of blowing his brains out, he moved with the same quickness as before. He pointed the barrel right into his temple and squeezed the trigger.

  The gun clicked with the empty chamber.

  Shit.

  “No…please.” Arwen rushed to the table and started to plead with Kamikaze. “I’ll come with you, okay? I surrender. Just let him walk away—”

  “Sit the fuck down.” I refused to look at her. This was between the two of us—and she shouldn’t have interfered. “Now.”

  Kamikaze didn’t look at her either.

  Arwen gripped my shoulder. “Please…please take me with you.”

  I pushed her off. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

  Kamikaze waited for me to pick up the gun.

  One of my men grabbed Arwen and dragged her away.

  I picked up the gun, its weight more noticeable in my grasp. It seemed to get heavier with every turn, like the bullet inside with turning from lead to stone. My hand didn’t shake even though there was a slight tremor in my fingertips.

  Arwen screamed from her position against the wall. The men kept her pinned down so she couldn’t rush me again. She didn’t understand that Kamikaze wouldn’t take her deal even if he wanted to. He was committed to this—and he had to see it through.

  It was the first time Kamikaze dropped his indifferent attitude. His hands came together in front of his mouth as he stared at me, wishing that bullet to be inside the chamber. If the bullet didn’t pierce my skull, then we knew the outcome of the match.

  This turn was just as important as the last.

  “Maverick…” Arwen said my name through her tears, a complete mess in the corner.

  I tuned out her hysterics and held the gun steady against my temple.

  Kamikaze didn’t crack a smile or taunt me. He held his breath as he waited for me to decide our fates.

  In just a second, I would be dead—or I would be the victor.

  My blood ran ice cold, but sweat started to mark my forehead. If I died tonight, my life would have been short-lived. I would die a young man, following my mother into the afterlife. My sister would probably kill herself, and my father would be alone—until he put a bullet in his own brain.

  My finger steadied on the trigger.

  Squeeze.

  My eyes closed as I heard the click of the barrel.

  Instead of me dropping to the ground dead, everything went quiet as silence ensued. Then the slight sounds picked up again, like my own breathing and Arwen’s sobs. Everything grew louder, reminding me I was truly alive.

  I opened my eyes and
looked into his.

  He lowered his hands to the table, taking his loss like he didn’t feel anything. His hard expression didn’t change. His smile wasn’t forthcoming, and he didn’t break the tension with an inappropriate joke.

  I set the gun in the center of the table.

  Kamikaze stared at it for a long time, his eyes soaking in the sight of his own murder weapon. He wouldn’t survive another bullet to the brain. This would kill him.

  Even though Arwen knew I would live, she cried even harder.

  I didn’t like this man and shouldn’t pity him. He’d hardly been an ally to begin with, but he was never an enemy before. He’d tried to rape my wife and sell her like a mule. But it was still depressing watching a man grappling to accept his own death. “I’ll make a deal with you. Drop this for good, and we’ll forget the whole thing.” Kamikaze could be useful in the future. He owed me his life, so if I ever needed a favor, he would make it happen.

  Kamikaze stared at the gun for a few more seconds before he lifted his gaze to meet mine.

  “Just don’t come near my wife again, and we have a deal.” It was a generous offer, and he’d be stupid not to take it.

  “And be your bitch for the rest of my life?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  He grabbed the gun and dragged it toward him. “We made a deal—and I’ll keep my end of the bargain.” He brought the barrel to his forehead. “I wouldn’t have given you the same mercy.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  Squeeze.

  The gunshot went off, loud in the small enclosure of the restaurant. Drops of blood sprayed everywhere, covering the other chairs and the table in between us. His heavy body jolted with the momentum then crumpled to the ground with a loud thud.

  His men stood their ground and did nothing.

  I stared at the spot where he’d been. A terrifying man had just met my gaze, and then, instantly, he was gone. It reminded me of my mother in the strangest way…the fact that she was there one moment then gone the next. Life was fleeting and could be snuffed out within the snap of a finger.

  Arwen rushed to me and wrapped me in her arms. Her face moved into my neck, and she held on to me like she needed the support to stand even though I was the one who’d almost died. She squeezed me tightly then cried into my ear, sobbing for so many reasons.

  I was still numb from the transaction, still pumped with adrenaline that overwhelmed my system. My mind wasn’t as sharp as it was because I was in a fog, still recovering from the near-death experience. That could be me lying on the floor, bleeding out everywhere.

  But somehow, it wasn’t.

  17

  Arwen

  Maverick was the one who almost died.

  But I was the mess.

  The second Maverick stepped away from Kamikaze’s dead body, I launched myself into his arms and sobbed into his chest. I already forgave him for pushing me away, for talking down to me like I was a dog that didn’t know how to heel. I was just so relieved he was okay, that the bullet had been meant for his opponent instead.

  Now that Kamikaze was dead, Maverick’s arm wrapped around my waist, and he cupped the back of my head. He brought me close to him and let me cry into his chest, supporting me as I combated the horrific sight I just witnessed.

  I watched a man shoot himself in the head.

  I didn’t care about that. I only cared about the man who was still standing.

  “I’m alright, Sheep.” He rested his lips against my temple, becoming the affectionate man I remembered. Now that the threat was over, he dropped his hard-core attitude and returned to the sensitive man who shared my bed.

  “I was so scared…” I’d never been so terrified in my life. When I thought that bullet might be for Maverick, I’d thrown myself at Kamikaze and prayed he would take me. I gladly would have gotten on my knees and did anything he asked to spare Maverick’s life.

  “I know.” One of his men came to him and handed over the silver gun.

  Maverick eyed it before slipping it into the back of his jeans.

  “You’re going to keep it…?”

  “It’s tradition.”

  Maverick sat in the back seat with me, his arms around me as I continued to process the trauma I’d just witnessed. My body wouldn’t stop shaking with fear even though Maverick was with me now. The fact that he had to go through it at all was still troubling.

  But now, Kamikaze was dead.

  There was no one who wanted to kill me anymore.

  My husband saved me. He’d calmly put that gun to his temple and pulled the trigger over and over. “You were so brave…” When Kamikaze had cornered me in the alleyway, I fought against him, but I also panicked. I didn’t keep the calm composure Maverick did. I was fucking terrified.

  His chin rested on my head, and he looked out the window as the landscape passed by. The afternoon had faded to night quickly as fall deepened. Lights from the passing houses became brighter in contrast.

  I hugged his waist and relied on him as my crutch like I always did. This man married me because he had to, but now he protected me because he wanted to. He was willing to lay down his life for mine just to keep me safe.

  How did I get so lucky?

  We returned to the house and walked inside like it was an ordinary evening. My arm hooked through his as we walked into the house. I wasn’t this affectionate on a daily basis, but almost losing him made me value him even more.

  The smell of dinner was noticeable from the kitchen.

  Abigail came out, wearing a black apron with a spot of sauce on the tip of her nose. She wasn’t smiley like usual, looking at Maverick like he was a friend rather than her employer. Her eyes took him in, like she wanted to see his face herself. “You’re back…”

  Maverick stepped away from me and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Wordlessly, he gave her a squeeze to acknowledge her feelings. He dropped his embrace then turned away.

  Abigail’s eyes watered as she watched him walk away, affection so bright in her eyes, it was impossible to miss. “Dinner will be served shortly.” She smoothed out her apron then turned around to walk back into the kitchen.

  I followed Maverick into the dining room and watched him pour himself a glass of wine as if everything was normal, as if he hadn’t just watched a man shoot himself in the head. He poured a glass for me as well before he set the bottle down.

  I sat across from him—numb. “She loves you…”

  “Of course she does. I’m her boss.”

  “I don’t think that has anything to do with it.” That woman loved him like family. It wasn’t a sibling kind of love or a romantic one. It wasn’t even motherly. It was just love in its purest form.

  He took a drink then licked his lips. “I’m starving.”

  The sight of blood had killed my appetite. “I don’t see how you could be…”

  His fingers rested on his wineglass as he stared at me across the table. He was oddly calm about the whole thing, just as indifferent as he was before we left. He swirled his wine then set the glass on the table again. “It’s over. Time to move on.”

  “But you could have died—”

  “But I didn’t. Everything worked out. Kamikaze is gone.”

  All I should feel was grateful in that moment, but I was still shaken up about the entire thing. It would take me weeks to get over it. It was the most gruesome thing I’d ever seen. I would rather be raped a million times than let Maverick shoot a bullet into his own skull. “You were so calm… Did you think you weren’t going to get the bullet?”

  “No.”

  “So, you thought you were?”

  “On my last round, I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

  And he still acted totally normal? That was a sign of strength I’d never seen in my life. “How could you feel the cold metal of the barrel against your temple without panicking? How could you experience that moment without drowning in terror?”

  He dran
k his wine again. “There are worse things than death.”

  “But not many things…”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Abigail came into the room with the hot dish and set it in the center of the table with two serving spoons. She also brought a salad and a basket of fresh bread. She looked at Maverick the same way she had just a moment ago, like she was so happy he was home. She excused herself quietly then left the room.

  I watched Maverick dish the food onto his plate, pretending this was a normal night. He brushed off the event like it wasn’t traumatizing, like it was something everyone experienced at some point in their lives.

  I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t in the mood to pretend nothing happened.

  I rose from my chair and felt his gaze move to my face. “I’m going to bed.” I left my glass of wine behind and turned my back to him, letting him eat alone. I wasn’t ungrateful for what he did for me, but I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I hadn’t almost just lost my husband. The evening was emotional for me. I’d lost both of my parents, and now Maverick was all I had left.

  What would I do without him?

  I stood in the shower and let the warm water soften my stiff muscles. Strands of my wet hair stuck to the back of my neck, and I entertained myself by watching the rivers of water run down the tile to the drain below my feet. Blood felt caked onto my skin, stuffed under my fingernails. I needed to get clean, needed to wash away the guilt I felt in my stomach.

  Maverick almost died because of me.

  I admired him for being so strong and dignified about the whole thing. I used to be that way, logical and pragmatic about all situations in life. But now I was an emotional woman who became distraught over her husband’s well-being. I shed tears so quickly, and my heart was always on the verge of collapsing. Life was so much easier when I didn’t care about anything. But now I cared so much about that man.

  I cared about him more than anything else in this world.

  He changed me in so many ways…and not necessarily for the better.

  Distracted by my thoughts and the warm water, I didn’t notice Maverick entering the shower until the door clicked behind him.