Carrick was staring at me like he wanted to eat me alive. His smoldering eyes burned my skin as he took in my outfit. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t picked it out with him in mind, to at least attempt to make him think about something other than his uncle’s death. Our marriage was anything but conventional. I bit down on my bottom lip and considered my options. The last time we fought—before we were even married—I did tell him we wouldn’t sleep together again.

Yeah sure, like that would actually stick.

But I didn’t want to give in that easily and something told me Carrick would be disappointed if I did; even as upset as he was, I knew he would like the challenge. I’d played the dutiful wife in public and in private, I had tried to be both supportive and emotionally available to him when he needed it. It was exhausting trying to walk that fine line for days.

“I need a drink.”

He snorted a laugh. “Of course you do. Maybe we can barter.”

I narrowed my eyes and put my hands on my hips. “What kind of trade did you have in mind?”

“You’ll let me spank that sexy ass of yours for every swallow of liquor I give you.”

I closed my eyes. Why does that sound so good?

“So, no sex? You just want to punish me?”

He looked at me through hooded eyes. My skin prickled as he walked up behind me while I poured myself a drink from the bar cart. “Baby, by the time I’m done, you’re going to be begging for me to fuck you.” He leaned in closer. “You’re going to ask for my cock to fill you, and you’re not going to be okay until you get it.”

I trembled as the stubble from his jaw raked across my neck. This was a horrible idea. Not that I cared; I fell for horrible ideas all the time.

“What do you think, Princess? Are you in?”

I sat the glass down, turned around, and ran my hands up his chest. “You can try your hardest,” I said, smirking.

He grinned back at me. This was the way to help him—make him fight for it. We were both addicts and if I could get him hooked on something besides the drugs, we would both be safe. Maybe it was a foolish plan to offer myself up as a game, but I couldn’t let Carrick fall right back into where he’d dragged me out of. I’d seen the look—the one I recognized all too well—and he wanted to numb everything. It would be easy. One pill or one snort, and things would disappear. At night, I could see him slipping further away, closing himself off from the world and not allowing himself to hurt.

I shivered as he pushed my hair away from my neck, feathering the strap of my tank top down my arm. He led me over to the couch and I sat down on the arm, bracing my hands on the soft leather behind me as he kissed his way down my collarbone. When his lips wrapped around my nipple, I moaned softly. His hands flexed on my hips and I arched into him.

“Carrick,” I moaned. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

A popping noise filled the room as he pulled back from my breast. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” His dark eyes smoldered as he reached up to pinch my nipple. “Because I think you like the fact that anyone could find us. Walk in on us here, with my mouth on you.”

I groaned loudly and slapped my hand over my mouth quickly to muffle the sound. He nipped at the underside of my breast and I bit down on my wrist to stop myself from crying out.

“Just think, any of the staff could come in here. Your sister could walk in. Didn’t she say she was going to change and come back downstairs?” he taunted. “Are you wet just thinking about it, Scarlett? If I checked right now, would your panties be soaked?”

This man and his filthy mouth were going to be the death of me. “Yes,” I whimpered.

I reached in to devour his mouth and heard the soft sound of someone clearing their throat.

Ava.

Carrick pushed me behind him to make sure I was covered from prying eyes. I wrapped my arm over his shoulder and pushed my breasts into his back. His breath hitched and I tried not to smirk as I waited for my sister to continue. Her body was angled towards the door, and I could tell she was battling with herself, deciding if she wanted to make a run for it.

“Ava, what’s wrong?” I asked, making myself presentable and pushing around Carrick when I saw her face. The way she held herself made me realize something wasn’t right. When I looked closer, she had tears in her eyes.

Her eyes met mine. “It’s Alex. His sister—”

A sob escaped and she pressed her hand to her mouth. I rushed to her, pulling her close, and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. She’d been close with Alex for as long as I could remember. I always thought they would end up together, but here we were, years later, and still no sign of them being anything more than friends.

“Have you talked to him yet?” I asked softly.

She shook her head. “I need to go. I know the timing is awful—”

I hugged her tighter. “Don’t worry about it. You need to go to him. There’s nothing you can do here. Carrick and I will figure this out. Together.”

Not that I knew how things would turn out, but it was the truth. For better or worse, we were married now. Carrick and I shared a look over her head and he nodded. We would figure out this odd footing of our marriage together.

I flinched as Carrick threw the tumbler of scotch into the fireplace, causing the flames to flare up. For once, I didn’t blame him for losing his temper. Jade had challenged our marriage with the church, and even though the last order of Carrick’s uncle was to completely dissolve all records of his marriage to her, we had to wait to see their response. It wouldn’t matter if they did recognize their marriage or not; we were married now and she couldn’t have him. I wouldn’t let it happen.

Carrick whipped around when I tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. For one split second, I thought he was going to hit me. I recoiled and took several steps back, out of his reach.

“Scarlett, I’m so—”

I held up a hand to stop him. A lump grew in my throat and I couldn’t focus. I fought back the panic rising in my chest. I had to get out of there. Carrick followed behind me as I walked towards the door to the library.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. You know I would never actually hurt you, right?” he pleaded.

I nodded without turning around. I couldn’t be in the same room with him for a while, not after that scare. Over the years, I’d learned to recognize the signs and, right now, Carrick was too worked up. It was time for me to escape while I could without any bruises.

“I think I’m going to go take a nap. We’re all a little anxious over this whole situation.”

He didn’t fight as I ran up the stairs and away from his anger. Anger that was too much like my father’s. Except with Carrick, I didn’t expect the hit. It was instinct and self-preservation that had me flinching away. With my father, I never knew if the hit was coming or not. Life at home hadn’t been easy for me after my mother died. I was thankful that I had been able to shelter Ava from the worst of his temper, but now that I wasn’t there, I was scared about what might happen to her. She was his favorite, but his temper didn’t recognize favorites when it flared.

Carrick didn’t know, but he was my dark knight. He rescued me when I needed it most, and he never expected me to give up who I was in the process. There was no way he was a white knight; he was moody and irritable and testy as hell, but he had saved me from myself, and from my father. I saw the look of regret in his eyes when he realized that I was terrified of his reaction, and I truly believed he would never hurt me. Now we would have to find our footing again.

One step forward and two steps back.

That seemed to be our pattern.

I swiped angrily at the hot tears streaming down my face. My back hit the wall as soon as I shut our bedroom door behind me, and I slid down to the ground, wrapping my arms around my legs. None of this was fair—Carrick losing his uncle, my father being such an asshole, and Carrick having to deal with me when I was so broken down. I needed to hold it together. Carrick couldn’t see me like the broken little girl that I was. I didn’t want to be weak anymore; I wanted to be strong for him and stand by his side when he needed it most. In order to do that, I couldn’t freak out at the littlest things.

My emotions were like exposed nerves; when they were touched, they had the ability to bring me to my knees. I didn’t want it to be like that, but no amount of therapy or drugs could ever change what I’d gone through after my mother died—how my father had blamed me for her death—and how I’d blamed myself.

The soft knock on the door pulled me from my internal battle. I stood up and wiped my face, attempting to make myself more presentable, and not like I’d been crying my eyes out for the past five minutes.

“Just a moment,” I called out, trying to buy myself more time.

“Scarlett,” Carrick said softly, as he pushed open the door. I turned away so he wouldn’t be able to see what a mess I was. He’d already seen me drunk, high, and in the throes of passion, but he didn’t need to see me utterly broken—not if I could help it. “Baby, I’m so sorry for scaring you.”

His hand touched my arm gently, but I remained facing away from him. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute.”

“Scarlett, look at me, please.” I took a deep breath and schooled my face before turning. My eyes were splotchy and red-rimmed. He would know I’d been crying, but he didn’t have to know why. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I would never hurt you. The worst I will ever do is yell and throw things when I lose my temper.”

I winced as he reached to run his hand down my face. It was an automatic reaction; most men didn’t touch me reverently—it was always in anger—but Carrick was different, and I knew this. I expected him to jerk away at my response, but instead he carefully, deliberately, put his hand to my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He placed a soft kiss to my forehead. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for your reactions. It makes me want to murder your father for hurting you, but none of that is your fault. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

I pulled away and walked towards the huge bay window that overlooked the back gardens. The lush greenery was beautiful. Peaceful. “There’s so much you don’t know about me. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to tell you.”

Carrick was quiet for a minute before he crossed the room and stood next to me, bracing his hands on the window frame. “When I was twenty-five, I hadn’t been sober in almost two years. I blamed myself for my parents’ death and almost killed myself, trying to numb the pain that I felt from losing them. My cousin was the one that made me realize that I wasn’t living a life they would be proud of; they’d be disappointed in my actions and that I was wasting my talents. It took me longer than it should have for that to sink in, but eventually, it did.”

He turned to face me. “I wasn’t in control of the car that killed them any more than you were the driver that hit the car you were in.” His hand brushed against the small scar I had running through my eyebrow; the constant reminder I had of my mother’s death. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to waste your life with pointless blame. Scarlett, you’re not broken, just a little bruised.”

I wished I could believe him. Eventually he would see that he was wrong. But he was right about one thing. My mother wouldn’t have wanted me to blame myself. It didn’t change the fact that I did though.

He brushed my hair away from my face.

“We’re going to figure this out, together. I was a horrible husband the first time, but I swear to you, I’m going to be better this time.”

I took his hand in mine. “I promise you I’ll be a better wife than Jade.”

He chuckled and tucked me under his chin, against his side. “That won’t be hard to do, baby. We’ll figure this out. We just have to talk and quit running from each other.”

“You aren’t the one running,” I mumbled.

“Oh baby, if you only knew,” he whispered into my hair.