by Pam Godwin
It wasn’t boredom.
I was profoundly, inconsolably sad. The kind of sad that couldn’t be medicated or counseled. There was no cure for heartbreak.
But she was right. I could take the tests now, earn my diploma, and be done with high school.
It would change nothing.
My future wasn’t waiting on my graduation. It was waiting on Tucker. He would graduate from St. John de Brebeuf in May, spend the summer traveling, spreading his seed to women far and wide and living his male privilege to the fullest.
My mother intended to announce our engagement at her annual winter ball. There would be no proposal. No courtship. Just the contract, which was already signed and waiting for Tucker to settle down and step into his role.
“If I took the final tests now,” I asked without enthusiasm or care, “what would I do for the next two months?”
“You can get a jump on your college studies. You can study topics that interest you.”
I could read the books Magnus had put on my e-reader and learn how to run an animal shelter that I would never have. There was no place for that in Bishop’s Landing. I would be expected to attend parties, look pretty, and smile like a princess for our royal subjects.
I felt sick.
“I’m finished for the day.” I closed my laptop and slumped back in the chair.
Familiar with my moods, Mindy packed up her belongings and left. The instant the door shut behind her, I wept. Quiet tears coursed down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. My misery was constant.
Galen sat on the couch, his gaze on his phone, probably sick to death of watching me cry. He saw it every day and never said a word.
Perry had mentioned he was retired military. That fit his hardened exterior. But he had a softness in his brown eyes. Compassion. I felt it as he rose from the couch and handed me a tissue. He carried them in his pocket just for me.
“Eat.” He pointed at my untouched breakfast on the table.
How could I eat? How could I, knowing it wouldn’t fill the emptiness?
“I said eat,” he growled, losing patience.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’ve watched you lose weight for three months. Weight that you don’t have to lose. If you drop another pound, you’ll disappear.”
“I want to disappear,” I whispered.
I want to die.
“You’ll eat if I have to force it down your throat.” He slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the dishes.
This was the tenth time in as many days that he’d stood over me, threatening me with food.
He didn’t know the source of my grief. To him, I was just a self-absorbed rich girl, wallowing in her mansion. My mother had probably tasked him with watching over my diet. I was supposed to look a certain way, maintain a perfect weight, and assume the ideal image of a trophy wife.
I’d agreed to do this. Crying and refusing wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Holding his gaze, I scooped up a handful of dry cereal from the bowl and crammed the pieces into my mouth. I chewed with loud, smacking, crunching sounds that shattered the strained silence. Crumbs fell down my shirt and stuck to my chin as I fisted more and shoved it into my already full mouth.
“You’re a mess.” His lips bounced with a smile as he returned to the couch.
I wanted to share his amusement and dug deep to find a morsel of happiness. But it wasn’t there. That emotion simply didn’t exist. Not today.
Not the week after.
Not the month that followed.
I continued my lessons with Mindy. In the evenings, I read the books Magnus had given me. On the weekends, I put on sparkly gowns, did my hair, and went downstairs to show my face at my mother’s hoity-toity parties. Sometimes, Tucker made the trip home to attend them.
At every opportunity, he tried to talk to me, corner me, and get me alone. Those were the moments when I appreciated Galen’s presence. He intervened every time Tucker tried to touch me.
Four months after I left Sion Academy, my mother hosted her biggest party yet. A charity ball. All the schmoozers and socialites of Bishop’s Landing were here—bankers, politicians, business moguls, and the like.
Perry led me through the ballroom with my hand tucked inside his elbow. I felt the floor through the soles of my heels. I heard the orchestra music flowing around me. But I wasn’t really here. I was a ghost. Nothing more.
The air felt like water, bogging down my steps and drowning me in a sea of indifference.
“I want to go back to my room.” I squeezed Perry’s arm.
“Stay an hour.” He stopped and rested a knuckle beneath my chin, his expression creased with understanding. “Mom needs to see you making an effort with Tucker. Then you can leave. Okay?”
“Okay.” I felt numb.
“Here he comes. I’ll be within earshot.”
He strolled away, but I wasn’t alone. Galen’s strong presence hovered behind my elbow, my constant shadow always within arm’s reach.
Tucker sauntered right into my space, wearing a tailored black tux and his usual cocky smile.
“Jesus, Tinsley.” He prowled around me, soaking in my white lacy gown and releasing a low whistle. “You look fucking amazing.”
The dress clung to my body from chest to ankles. My mother commissioned all my fancy clothes in shades of white as if she were trying to convince the world I was innocent and pure. Perhaps trying to convince herself. As if she didn’t have photos of me getting wall-banged by my teacher.
The memory rose with a vengeance, catching me off guard. The feel of Magnus’s expert hands, the scratch of his whiskers, the dark, seductive scent of his skin—he was embedded in my senses.
My lungs burned for oxygen. I needed fresh air. My feet were already moving before I was aware.
“Where are you going?” Tucker chased after me, oblivious.
Minutes later, I stood outside on the vacant veranda, gripping the railing and burning up, despite the cool April evening.
Galen was silent behind me, but I knew he was there.
Tucker leaned a hip against the banister, staring out at the beautifully manicured lawn and twinkling lights of the mansions dotting the hillside below.
“Nevada Hildebrand was expelled.” He met my eyes.
“Big surprise.” I usually avoided all conversations about Sion Academy with him, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Did she get caught with pills again?”
“No. She got caught with Father Magnus.”
A whooshing sound erupted in my ears. Bile surged to my throat, and my legs lost strength, buckling my knees. I swayed, wobbled, and Galen’s hand caught my arm, holding me upright.
“What’s wrong with you?” Tucker’s brows dipped into a V.
“I didn’t eat today.” I shrugged away from Galen’s grip, ignoring his disapproving glare. “Makes me lightheaded.”
“Let’s sit down.” Tucker motioned toward a nearby bench.
I didn’t want to sit anywhere with him, but my trembling legs took the choice away. I followed him to the seat.
“So I guess Nevada tried to fuck your old teacher.” He lowered beside me and stretched out his legs. “She gave him a little strip show and put her hands down his pants. Crazy, right? I mean, he’s a priest. That’s like so wrong on so many levels.”
A splinter wedged itself into my chest. “Sounds like a dumb rumor.”
“She sent texts about it to her friends, describing the whole thing in detail. He expelled her of course. I guess she lost her shit when she went home, tried to overdose on a bunch of opiates, and now she’s in a psychiatric hospital.”
Maybe I should’ve felt bad for her, offered up some prayers, and hoped for a quick recovery. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt nothing.
Nevada was the reason my mother found out about my relationship with Magnus. She was selfish and vindictive, and karma had come for her.
Tucker droned on about his friends at school and the few short weeks he
had left until graduation. My thoughts drifted to Magnus, replaying our time together in the mountains, surrounded by trees and snow in our microcosm of happiness.
I would never feel that depth of joy again, but I was so grateful for the memories. They’d carried me through four months of hell and given me escape when I needed it most.
Fingers slid over my lace-covered thigh, pulling me back to the present. Tucker rested his arm along the bench behind me as he glided his hand toward the apex of my legs.
I reached down to smack away his touch, but Galen beat me to it. With his hands fisting the lapels of Tucker’s tuxedo, he dragged Tucker off the bench and shoved him across the veranda.
“What the fuck?” Tucker threw his arms in the air. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
“You”—Galen thrust a finger at Tucker—“will not fucking touch her.”
“She’s going to be my wife. I’ll touch her if I damn well please. As a matter of fact…” Tucker stood taller. “Get out of here. There’s no reason for you to be here when I’m around. I’ll protect her.”
Galen stepped behind me, returning to his post without comment. I appreciated that. Even though I could take care of myself, it felt good to have him at my back.
I rose to my feet and met Tucker’s livid gaze. He might not want to marry me, but over the last few months, he’d made it no secret that he wanted to fuck me.
Me and every other girl he set his sights on.
There would be no fidelity in our loveless, sexless marriage. Not that I cared.
“I’m never having sex with you, Tucker.”
“Yeah, right. We’ll be married by next year.”
“You will never touch me. Not even when we’re married. Get yourself a mistress. Get a whole goddamn harem. I don’t fucking care. You will never share my bed. We’re business partners. Nothing more. Do I make myself clear?”
“You’re a fucking bitch.”
“Does that make you feel better? Does calling a woman a bitch make you feel like a big, powerful man? Because you don’t sound like one. You sound like a spoiled little boy who didn’t get to put his fingers in the honey pot.”
With a growl, he stormed back inside.
“Have a lovely evening, darling,” I called after him. “Can’t wait to see you again.”
With a broken sigh, I turned back to the railing and closed my eyes. I’d made my bed, and I would lie in it. I just wouldn’t be lying in it with him or any man.
The floorboards creaked behind me, sounding Galen’s approach.
“You just got a nice glimpse of my future,” I muttered.
He shifted, and the weight of his suit jacket fell around my shoulders, protecting me from the cold.
“Thank you.” I pulled it tighter around me, feeling his heat still trapped in the fabric.
I missed Magnus’s heat, the cage of his arms, the warmth of his breath, the vibration of his voice, and even his bossiness. Especially that.
But what I missed most was his kissing. I closed my eyes, attempting to conjure the sensation. The feel of that first brush of his lips on mine. The drugging way his assertive tongue slipped past my teeth. The taste of his hungry mouth, opening, deepening, trying to consume me. God, I missed him so fucking much.
“There’s more to this than that.” I blinked, my eyes growing hot and achy.
“I know.”
“What do you know?” A tear rippled down my cheek.
“I know your heart belongs to another.”
My breath stilled, and I pivoted to look at him. “Am I that transparent?”
“No. But it’s my job to watch you.” He removed a tissue from his pocket and brushed away the moisture on my face. “I see pain that only comes from heartbreak.”
“Do you report that to my mother?”
“No. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.” I squinted. “What is your background?”
“Badassery.” He smiled with the whitest teeth, the darkest skin, and the kindest eyes.
And I believed him. It wasn’t the gun on his hip or his constant vigilance. I trusted him because, at gut level, I knew he was one of the good guys. He had my back.
“I don’t know what to do.” Do I go back inside? Do I try to do this sober? Or do I self-medicate and fade away? “I don’t know where to go from here.”
“Does this feel like rock bottom?”
“Yeah.”
“Then there’s only one direction to go.”
Up.
Missing Magnus was a painful way to grow up. He wasn’t a mistake. I would never regret the time I’d had with him.
He’d taught me how to live and let live, how to make every moment count, how to be more than what I was, how to experience what I learned, how to be taller and stronger for the struggle.
He taught me that the best things in life didn’t come easy.
He taught me how to love.
CHAPTER 37
TINSLEY
Why was my mother looking at me like that?
I sat across the boardroom table from her, meeting her stare for stare. Her gaze rarely spent this much time on me. Maybe I had something on my dress?
I glanced down at the starched white fabric. Pristine. Perfect. I was dressed for business today. We all were.
The boardroom belonged to the Kensingtons. Situated on the top floor of their corporate office, it overlooked the glinting steel of downtown Manhattan.
My family occupied half of the long table—my mother, Winny, Perry, Viv, Elaine, Keaton, and all our assistants and lawyers. Galen stood near the wall behind me.
The other half of the table sat empty, awaiting the Kensington family and their legal team. They’d called us here to make the final arrangements for the merger.
Tucker graduated from St. John de Brebeuf last month and was off gallivanting across Europe. I hadn’t been allowed to attend his ceremony. My mother didn’t want me near the school for obvious reasons.
My graduation had been a quiet affair. I received a digital copy of my diploma. Galen and I opened a bottle of wine, which he ended up drinking by himself.
It’d been six months since I’d seen Magnus, and the pain was still as raw as the day I’d left. I was surviving, but I wasn’t living. I was barely breathing.
Perry sat beside me, speaking in low tones with Winny next to him. My mother hadn’t stopped staring at me.
“What?” I squared my shoulders. “You’re freaking me out.”
“You don’t look like my daughter.”
The room fell quiet, and I glanced around at all the faces that so closely resembled mine. Pale blue eyes, blond hair, fair skin—the genes ran strong in my family.
“Just say it.” I fisted my hands on my lap. “Say whatever you’re thinking if it’ll make you stop staring at me like—”
“You’re sad.” My mother stated the fact as if remarking on the weather.
Jesus Christ. I’d been fucking miserable for six months. “You’re just now noticing?”
“I notice everything, Tinsley.” She drummed her manicured nails on the table, holding the room in suspense. Then she stilled. “The Kensingtons need this merger as much as we do. Perhaps more. The Morellis have been trying to buy them out for years, undercutting them at every turn and offering deals that would leave the family in ruins.”
I didn’t know that detail. I’d never thought to ask. I only knew that if we didn’t merge, the Constantine dynasty would lose the strategic Kensington holdings to the Morellis, thereby giving the Morellis a stronger position in Bishop’s Landing. In our cutthroat world, if we didn’t remain on top, we would be crushed.
“I want you to know,” my mother said stiffly, “every person in this room appreciates the sacrifice you’re making to save this family.”
“We love you, Tins.” Keaton smiled softly.
More smiles appeared around the table. Perry gripped my hand and squeezed it on my lap.
My heart thudded with an exhaustive a
che. Even though I’d been forced into this position, it didn’t change the fact that I loved these ruthless people. They were my blood. My tribe.
“Where are they?” Winston glanced at his watch. “The anticipation is fucking wearing.”
Anticipation?
The door opened, and a stream of suits rolled into the room. Lawyers, corporate officials, followed by Hugh and Anna Kensington. My future in-laws. I hadn’t had much interaction with them. I’d been avoiding them for months.
Greetings erupted around the room, and I started to fade, detaching, retreating inside myself. I didn’t want to be here. It was too real. Too final.
“Thank you for coming here at such short notice.” Mr. Kensington ran a hand over his balding head, addressing the table. “The past day has been quite a whirlwind, as you can imagine. We’re just waiting on—”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, drawing my attention to the door. Every head in the room turned as another man stepped inside.
Crisp black suit, white shirt, black tie—he was dressed like everyone else in the boardroom. But I knew the body beneath those threads, every hair, blemish, indention, and ripple of muscle. I knew how he held me skin-to-skin, the pleasure of those hands on my prickling flesh, the texture of that thick brown hair falling across my abdomen as those lips—those perfect, chiseled lips—moved between my legs.
I floated out of my body, lost in stupefied shock and not trusting my own eyes. I saw his gorgeous face, heard his familiar gait, but he might as well have been an illusion. My brain couldn’t process the image of Magnus Falke in a suit, in a boardroom, standing among my family.
Where was his clerical collar? Why was he here? Why did no one in the room look surprised to see him? My mother barely glanced at him.
His gaze flicked to me, lingering long enough to shred my insides before skipping away to greet everyone else.
My heart raced as I turned, desperately searching Perry’s relaxed expression.
