“Would you like your usual spot, Miss Chase?” Irish says, acting the gentleman. We stand in the hallway of The Miseryed’s clubhouse, next to the decommissioned motorbike. He makes a bow as he talks, smiling at me.

 

“Why, thank you, Mr. Irish.”

 

He leads me through the clubhouse to the far corner. It’s the middle of a Wednesday, and the bar is almost empty, apart from a pledge behind the bar and a couple of the men sitting at computer terminals. I like to sit at the far end of the bar, my back to the men, and the wall in front of me. On the wall hangs a picture of Irish, Knives, Markus, and Maddox. Sometimes, when I want a break from work, I’ll look up at the photograph and stare at Maddox’s face.

 

I sit down today, grab my laptop from my bag, and get to work.

 

Later, Maddox will come out and join me, and we’ll go to dinner or to a hotel. Or I’ll just bring him back to my place, and we’ll spend our time falling into each other, sweating, kissing, laughing. But right now I turn my attention to the code.

 

There’s something reassuring about working here. Maybe it’s fear. Cassandra’s trial was quick; she’s been sentenced to ten years in prison. But still, the specter of what she did to me and Moms still hangs over me. Sometimes I wake screaming. Luckily, Maddox is always there, and the night terror rarely lasts very long. I work for two hours on the code, tapping away, fingers skimming over the keys. And then I close the source code and go to the game.

 

My work today is on the city itself, not the staging area. But I always like to linger on the staging area, walking my character around it. Maddox is in the game: an artist’s rendition, which highlights his muscles and his good looks. His character stands near the door, helping the female characters put on their coats. I look at him in the game, and then up at the photograph, and I think: He is mine.

 

Then I decide it’s time to go and check on the city. I direct my character to the door, but Maddox’s character steps in the way. “Not so fast,” he says, and it’s his voice. The cheeky . . . He’s changed the code behind my back! I make my character jump, but Maddox’s character steps forward, blocking my path. That’s when I notice something I should’ve noticed straightaway. The character I control is me. Thin and redheaded, wearing the denim shorts I often wear. I turn the character to the screen. Yes, it’s my face!

 

What has he done?

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Maddox’s character says.

 

I wait, thinking: He’s a dead man!

 

And then his character sinks to one knee, reaches into his leather jacket, and takes out a ring box. “Eden Chase,” he says, “will you marry me?”

 

My heart stops beating for a moment—and then picks up rapidly. That romantic, grizzly man! That, that . . . My breath comes quick, and I grip the edge of the laptop so hard the plastic digs into my palms. “Please,” the character goes on, “don’t keep me waiting.”

 

How did he . . . When did he . . .

 

“Eden.”

 

At first, I think the voice has come from the game again. But the character’s lips don’t move, and the voice is behind me.

 

I twist in my chair.

 

I gasp.

 

I tremble with excitement.

 

Maddox is kneeling on the floor, a ring box in his hand.

 

“Will you?” he says. “Please, don’t keep me waiting.”

 

Behind Maddox, I see Irish and Markus watching from the bar. And . . . Nat! Nat is standing beside Markus. They all knew, I think. The sneaky . . .

 

I stand up, place my laptop on the chair, and walk to where Maddox kneels. He looks up at me with that smirk which first attracted me to him, but it’s changed. It’s not just cocky and arrogant anymore. There’s genuine love in it, a love that makes me happier than I ever dreamed of.

 

I realize that I’m just standing here, looking down at him. How long? I don’t know. Maddox is beginning to look uncertain. As if there’s any need for that!

 

“Of course I’ll marry you!” I squeal.

 

From the back of the bar, Irish and Markus and Nat let out a cheer.

 

Maddox springs to his feet. “You had me worried there,” he admits.

 

He takes the ring from the box. It’s a huge diamond; a diamond I can’t imagine will really fit on my slender finger. But when he slides it on, it fits wonderfully. My hand feels heavier. It’s a comforting heaviness.

 

Then Maddox leans down and kisses me on the lips. It’s a soft kiss at first, but the engagement, the way he did it, and the kiss . . . they all combine to awaken something in me. What does Maddox call it? Oh, yes, my wildcat side. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and jump up, wrapping my legs around him, hardly caring that we’re being watched. Maddox grunts and grabs my ass, holding me up, and he dances across the clubhouse like this until we hit a table. We kiss like this for a few long minutes, and then Maddox breaks it off, his face red.

 

He turns to the bar, where the three of them are looking anywhere but at us. “Out, lads!” he shouts. “And lock the door! Go make yourself busy for an hour!”

 

“Two!” I giggle. “Make it two hours!”

 

They don’t need further encouragement. They file out of the clubhouse and lock the door, leaving us alone.

 

Maddox turns back to me. “Thank fuck for that,” he says, and then kisses me again.

 

I reach down, rubbing my hand down the leather of his jacket, and then grab his cock.

 

As always, it’s rock-hard for me.

 

***

 

We lie on the floor of the clubhouse on a bed on tablecloth and napkins. I rest my head on his chest as he toys with my hair.

 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he says, and we both laugh.

 

I hold my finger up to the light, looking at the way my ring shines. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “But I’m surprised.”

 

“Surprised?” he says.

 

“That a man like you wants a wife.”

 

“Oh.” He massages my scalp with his strong fingers. “Well, I don’t just want a wife, do I? I want you to be my wife.”

 

“Go on,” I urge.

 

“You just want me to say nice things about our engagement.”

 

“Well—yes.” I pout up at him. “Is that such a bad thing? Tell me how you feel, you animal.”

 

“Horny,” he grunts, looking down at my naked body.

 

I grab the edge of the tablecloth and whip it around, so it’s covering me.

 

“You will never touch me again,” I say solemnly, “unless you tell me why you want to be married. I will withhold sex from you for our entire marriage. We’ll become one of those cold couples who scarcely look at each other.”

 

“Goddamn, I love you,” he smiles. “So much. Fine, fine . . . It’s like this. I don’t just want a wife. I don’t just want to be married. But I want you, forever, ’til death do us part. And I never want any other man to touch you. And I never want to touch any other woman. And I want us to be known as a married couple. I want to introduce you as my wife because people will understand how serious it is then, much more serious than my girlfriend. I want to marry you because the idea of not marrying you makes my belly hurt.”

 

I lean up and kiss him on the underside of his chin. “I think I’ve made you a little soppy,” I say. “But I love you,” I say quickly. “I love you more than I ever thought I’d love any man. Before you, my relationships were boring, passionless. Now . . .”

 

“Move that cloth,” Maddox says, a deep growl in his voice. I know him well now. He’s not just horny; he’s starving. Like a wolf in the wild, he needs to hunt.

 

“Maybe I won’t,” I say, nudging him. “Maybe I’ve had enough of a big scary man like you.”

 

“Don’t forget how well I can read your body, my sweet fiancé.” He trails his fingers down my neck, stroking my skin. My hairs stand on edge. “Don’t forget I know exactly how to please you.”

 

“You’re an infuriating man,” I giggle, and then whip the tablecloth away,

 

When he sees my naked body, it’s like he’s seeing it for the first time. He takes in a deep breath. “You truly are an amazing woman, you know that?”

 

And then we’re lost in a sea of pleasure once again.