Flowers lining the path leading up to a white trellis covered in roses, hundreds of guests dressed in their finest as the sun begins to set in the distance, and a huge champagne fountain decorating the vast garden behind the Foley estate—that’s the image I had in my head.

It’s far from the reality of the day.

Inside the Foley home is, of course, beautiful, but the sky is overcast outside, and the hallway where I stand with my father is dim and bleak.

The expression “giving the bride away” keeps running through my head.

Since the fateful meeting yesterday, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal wedding, but I figured we’d all at least go through the motions.  From ceremony to reception, we would pretend we were enjoying the whole thing.  I thought my father would still kiss me on the cheek and tell me how happy he is, but he doesn’t.

There isn’t even any music as we walk into the Foley family study, the same room we were in the day before.  I’m decked out in a shining white dress with a long train, my father dressed in his finest, holding my arm, and my mother sitting in the same place she sat yesterday while my father had a gun held to his head.

She’s wearing the dress she had picked out when I was going to marry Sean.  This morning, she came downstairs wearing the black dress she reserves for funerals, but Dad made her change.  She initially refused, but the idea of going to the wedding with a busted lip didn’t appeal to her, so she changed her clothes, if not her attitude.  The dress was very expensive, and Dad wasn’t going to let her waste it.

I don’t look at Deklan, but I know he’s in a tux.  I wonder if he has to have them custom made, considering his size.  I suppose he can afford it, seeing who he works for and what he does.

Just what does he do?

Sean is standing up as Deklan’s best man.  Teagan is holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand as she stands on the other side of the judge.  In her other hand, she’s tapping on her phone.

Neil and Lucas are here.  There are two other men I don’t recognize, but that’s it for the guest list.  Those two aren’t even dressed up.  Not “wedding” dressed up anyway.  They are wearing Dockers and fairly nice shirts but no ties.  One of them is wearing dark tennis shoes.

I’m starting to feel overdressed.

Dad leads me up to the small group and stands between me and Deklan as the judge speaks, asking who gives this woman to this man.  I hear my father mumble an answer, and then he places my hand in Deklan’s.

His hand is huge, encompassing mine completely as his fingers wrap around it.  He rubs his thumb across my knuckles as my head swims.  I realize my knees are locked and try to relax my stance before I faint.

It’s all too surreal.  I can’t think.  I can’t comprehend that this is actually happening to me.  This was supposed to be a fairy tale although a bit of a twisted one.  I was supposed to live in the castle with the prince, not one of the prince’s guards.

Deklan grips my hand, and I glance up at him.  He’s so tall, I have to tilt my head just to meet his eyes.  He’s looking at me out of the corner of his eye, but I don’t understand his expression or why he is lightly squeezing my hand.  Is he trying to reassure me?  Are his look and gesture telling me everything will be all right or something else?  Maybe it’s possessive.  Maybe it’s his way of showing me that I’m his now, and he can do whatever he wants.

I have no idea.  I know nothing about this man.

As soon as I knew I was supposed to marry Sean Foley, I studied him.  I paid attention to him on the few occasions when we were together.  I researched as much as I could about him and his family.  Everything I found was more rumor than anything else, but I listened closely when my father had people at the house.  I heard what they talked about.  I knew the Foley family.

About Deklan, I know nothing.

Holy shit—I don’t even know his last name.

I look down, and my chest tightens along with my throat.  I can hear the justice of the peace droning on, but I don’t listen to the words.  I stare at the ground and try to concentrate on what’s going on around me, but I can’t.  I’m only aware of the sensation of Deklan’s hand clasping mine and the sound of my mother sniffling, somewhere behind me.

It’s taking all my willpower not to let the tears fall.

“Kera Margaret O’Conner, do you take this man, Deklan Darius Kearney, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Kearney.  His last name is Kearney.  Kera Kearney.  My name will be Kera Kearney.

“Kera, answer the man so we can get on with this.”  Sean’s voice startles me.  For a long moment, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.  Sean is staring at me, his lips pressed together and his electric eyes glaring.  He taps his finger against the face of the watch on his wrist.

Oh, yeah—answer the judge.

“I will.”  I manage to say the two simple, damning words without my voice breaking.

Deklan turns toward me, and Sean hands him a ring.  I hold out my left hand, and Deklan reaches for me.  He takes me by the hand for a moment, his long fingers moving up to the top of my wrist.  For a moment, he uses his thumb to rub the skin right above my wrist bones.

A tremor runs up my arm.  I close my eyes briefly and take in a long breath.  The touch against my wrist is identical to the way I often rub at the same spot and has a similar calming effect on my body.

Deklan slides a giant rock in a bright platinum setting over my ring finger.  I stare at it in disbelief for a moment until I feel Teagan smacking my arm.  She hands me a similar, much larger platinum band, and I place it on Deklan’s finger with shaking hands.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”

I stand completely still, my stomach churning, as Deklan places one hand at the back of my neck and tilts my head toward his.  He has to lean over quite a bit to reach me, and I wonder if I should try to stand on my toes to make it easier for him.  I don’t.  I can’t move.  I stare into his eyes as he closes the gap between us.  They’re pale blue and surrounded by long, black lashes.  Cold.  His intense look makes me shiver, and I close my eyes as he presses his mouth to mine.

His lips are warm, and he kisses me gently, lingering for a bit before he shifts to the side of my mouth and then runs his nose over my cheek.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he whispers into my ear.

His words echo through my head.

He’s going to take care of me.

Take care of me.

What does that mean?

“Take care” as in be there for me physically and emotionally?  Provide and protect and all the other shit the judge said?  Or does he mean something more sinister?  Did Sean instruct him to “take care of me”?

Would Sean do that?  Would he go through this ceremony just to set my father up and then have his henchman-groom kill me on the wedding night?  Is he that sadistic?

I look over to him, and there’s a half-grin of self-satisfaction on his face.  The lightning in his eyes flashes, and a single tear falls down my cheek.

Yes.  Yes, he is.

Deklan turns to face the rest of the room, and I follow suit.  Neil, Lucas, and the two unknown men clap slowly without actually looking at us, and the wedding is over.

The reception, if you can even call it that, consists of drinks from the globe-bar and a couple of trays of hors d'oeuvres.  I spend the time at my new husband’s side as quiet panic builds up inside of me.

None of it feels real.  There is no photographer, no dinner, no music or dancing.  There’s no champagne.  No one comes up and congratulates us.  My mother is still in the same seat, staring blankly at the floor.  Dad is helping himself to multiple glasses of whiskey.

Deklan doesn’t drink anything, and neither do I.  I’m not sure if anyone cares that my twenty-first birthday is still a few months away or not, but I don’t even try to acquire any alcohol.  Maybe I should.  Maybe getting drunk would make all this more bearable.

It seems to work for my father.

One of the unnamed men that has been here since the start of the wedding beckons Deklan, and he walks away from me without a word.  I watch him lean close to the man as they begin talking softly and then startle when Sean appears behind me.

“Well, isn’t this all just lovely?”

I stare at him, wondering what he expects me to say.

“I did go through some minor effort to pull this together,” Sean says.  “Don’t you think you should thank me?”

“Thank you,” I reply quietly.  I quickly look away from his eyes.  They’re wide with stormy flashes inside the irises.

“I was pretty damn generous, really,” he says, continuing.  “Neil definitely prefers cock over pussy, and I’m pretty sure Lucas has herpes.  I could have done anything I wanted with you, even sold you off to the highest bidder.  Yeah, I’d say you should definitely be thanking me”—he grabs my chin and tilts my head to look at him—“and mean it.”

“Thank you, Sean,” I say quickly.  He narrows his eyes at me.  “Really, thank you.  I’m sure being married to you would have been better, but I’m certain you’re only doing what’s best for everyone.”

He looks shocked at my response for a moment, then smiles again.

“I know this is not what you were expecting, but you seem to be taking it all pretty well.”

“I’m fine,” I tell him.  Forcing myself to breathe slowly, I look straight at him.  I hope he can’t hear my heart beating.  I don’t want him to know how terrified I am.  “Deklan seems…nice.”

Sean snorts.

“For a killer.”

I swallow hard.  I’ve conditioned myself not to think about such things.

“You realize there was no way I was ever going to marry you,” Sean says, grinning his maniacal grin.  “You were my punishment, you know.  Got some slut knocked up and had to send her away so no one would know the kid was mine.  My father thought he could teach me a lesson—control me—by making me marry some small-time fuck-up’s daughter, but he couldn’t.  I’d say next time, he’ll know better than to drink anything I’ve mixed for him, but it’s kinda late for that.”

He laughs loudly as my eyes widen, and I process his words.

Did he…did he kill his own father?  Is that what he is telling me?

Sean leans in close to me.

“You didn’t lie about being a virgin, did you?”

“No,” I whisper back.

“Have you seen your husband?”  I stare at him, not knowing how to answer.  Sean grabs my arm and points toward Deklan.  “Just look at those size-fifteen shoes.  You know his cock has got to be a monster.  You’re going to get ripped open tonight.”

I freeze, inside and out, and Sean walks away from me, still laughing.

I have intentionally not thought about what is going to happen on my wedding night.  Even when I thought I was going to marry Sean, I didn’t let myself think about it.  In my mother’s words, “It’s just something you have to put up with.”

I know her thinking is old-fashioned.  I know there are plenty of women out there who enjoy sex.  I know there are men out there who want to make sure the women they are with enjoy it, too.  I’ve masturbated.  I know what an orgasm feels like.  I’ve also known such things were off the table, considering my betrothal, and so—like most things I can’t control—I have pushed thoughts of sex out of my mind.

I’ve never seen an actual penis.  Pictures, sure, but those were all in the name of online health classes.  I’ve heard rumors that the size of a man’s dick corresponds to the size of his feet…or his hands…or his nose…or the gap between his teeth…or a dozen other random body parts.  Is there any truth to any of it?

Every part of Deklan is oversized.

You’re going to get ripped open tonight.

Is that a real possibility?

I had given the act of sex very little thought, but now I can’t get it out of my head.