Forced: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (The Blackthorn Brothers Book 1) (10 page)

What the hell was I thinking?
I had wanted to keep my distance, and instead I’d ended up blowing Ash while cruising down the highway at eighty miles an hour.

I could blame it on how stressed out I was about seeing my dad—not to mention being around Ash—but it’d be nothing but an excuse. There was just something about Ash that made me crazy, so I couldn’t think straight.

“You okay, love?” Dividing his attention between me and the road, Ash reached over and brushed my cheek, his fingers just a little rough against my skin. “We’re nearly there.”

“Yeah…I’m fine.” Except that I wasn’t. My father was impossible to deal with under normal circumstances. Never mind now that he had his mind made up about me marrying Ash, in some asinine move to keep me safe from all his enemies.

“It’ll be okay, Wren. I know things have been tense between you and your dad, especially since his diagnosis and your brother’s death, but I’ll be right there by your side.”

The mention of Steven had my heart skittering and my stomach flipping.

“
Step
brother.” I fought back my sudden nausea, but as Ash pulled down my father’s drive and pressed the intercom at the gate, I nearly lost it. “I can’t do this, Ash. I can’t marry you. Believe me, this is for your own good.”

I knew I was leaving him in the dark about far too much, but he could never know my secrets. And it sure as hell wouldn’t be fair to drag him into the middle of it all. He deserved someone who could make him happy, someone normal—not someone who was fucked in the head and had suffered years of abuse.
Not a murderer
.

“Come on.” Ash parked in front of the home I grew up in, and I was immediately hit with an onslaught of memories, even as he took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, little bird. But you know neither of us have any choice in the matter.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against my stinging tears, and held onto my anger for protection, just like I’d done a million times before. Because in the end, my hurt and anger were the only things I had left. I got out of the car and slammed the door in frustration, ready to fight for my life once more. My father’s nurse—someone I’d never seen before—let us in and showed us to where he was sitting in the living room.

“Wren…I’m so happy to see you.” Seeing my dad looking so gaunt and weak had my tears spilling over. And though some would say he looked good, given his condition, he was a shadow of his former self. “Don’t cry…not when we should be celebrating.”

I sank down by his side as I hugged him, all my arguments dying on my lips, my anger silenced once more.
How the hell was I supposed to argue with him? How the hell was I supposed to stand my ground and go against his wishes when it was clear that this was his dying wish?

I shifted onto the sofa across from him, grateful for once that Ash was by my side as he pulled me into his arms to comfort me. And yet, I knew this was my one chance to protest against this marriage, even if I knew it was futile, and just so I could tell myself that at least I’d tried to put a stop to this. “You know I love you, Dad—but please…don’t make me do this. I can’t get married. It’s not fair.”

“Life’s never fair, Wren. Certainly you know that by now.” His words sent a shard of panic through me, though I told myself he didn’t know.
He couldn’t possibly
. “If it were, I wouldn’t be dying of this horrible fucking disease.”

“Can’t you just tell Ash who went after his family, so he can deal with whoever’s behind the attacks—without blackmailing him into marrying me? I don’t need him or anyone to keep me safe.” Yet even as I spoke the words, I knew they were falling on deaf ears and would make little difference.

“Ash and I have an agreement, and you’re getting married. It’s the only way to keep you safe from my enemies. And if you need some motivation to get you down that aisle, just know that you won’t see a dime of your inheritance or your trust fund if you don’t get married. I’ll cut you off completely—and I’ll die worrying about you.”

Just in case his threat wasn’t enough, he could always fall back on good ole guilt.

“That’s really nice. Just couldn’t resist throwing that one in there, now could you?” I cursed under my breath—and at this point, I’d agree to just about anything to get out of this house.

“Given my declining health, you’ll be getting married this weekend. So I suggest you use the time wisely to find yourself a nice dress.”

This weekend?
He was giving us no time to back out of this.

“You can’t be serious, Dad.” I wanted to scream—not that it would make a difference.

“You know I am.” My dad then shifted his attention to Ash. “The men who killed your father and are threatening your family will be dealt with as soon as your marriage is official.”

Ash nodded, even as I got to my feet, thoroughly done and desperate to leave, my anger finally breaking free. “Well, I’m glad the two of you are getting your way—and to hell with what I want.”

My father just shrugged. “One day, you’ll thank me.”

By the time we got out of there, I was so frustrated and angry, I could burn the world down. Yet Ash just drove us away, letting me curse and rant until I could no longer find any words, and I just sat there in silence, stewing in my fury. Forty minutes later, we were pulling up to a secluded home tucked away in the woods.

“Welcome home, little bird.” Ash killed the engine and gave my hand a squeeze. “Though if you prefer we stay elsewhere for now, I can arrange that too.”

“No… This place is as good as any.”
Until I could get the hell away from this nightmare and back to San Francisco.

I followed Ash up to his front door, his home an eclectic mix of modern yet rustic charm, designed, no doubt, to take in the beauty of the wilderness that surrounded the home, with large walls of glass, the nearest neighbors and roads too far away for privacy to be an issue. And the interior was no less impressive. “This is really nice, Ash.”

“I’m glad you like it—though if you want us to get a different place that’s both of ours from the start, we can do that too.” He set aside our bags and pulled me into his arms, my body’s reaction to him immediate.

“This is fine—especially since I’ll only be here for a few months.” As soon as my dad was gone, I could go back to living my life the way I wanted, instead of being dictated to and manipulated into a life I wanted no part of.

“Wren…do you really think your dad’s going to let you back out of this marriage, even after he’s gone?”

I knew Patrick Turner well enough to know that there’d be no way he’d let Wren wrangle her way out of this marriage as soon as he was gone. “I guarantee you he’ll have put some sort of stipulation into his will that forces us to remain married. And since he knows you well enough, I’ll bet it also states that we need to be living together.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She glared at me as if this was all somehow my fault, but as her eyes shimmered with tears again, I couldn’t help but pull her into my arms even as she fought me. “Let go of me, Ash. I fucking hate this.”

“I know, love.” I brushed her tears from her cheeks and let her go, needing her to come to terms with our situation without trying to force her into it. She was already showing signs of coming around and hating me less, and I didn’t want to ruin what progress we’d made. “But like I said, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy—because seeing you upset has been fucking killing me.”

“I get that this isn’t your fault—but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.” She seemed less angry and far more frustrated and broken.

It was a drastic change to the wild side of her that I remembered, though in many ways it left me far more concerned. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but…fuck, Wren. You have me worried.”

“I don’t know why you care—and the truth is, you shouldn’t.” She shook her head, her brow furrowed as she looked up at me, grabbing my shirt in her hands. “You’re getting roped into this against your will, just like I am.”

“I do care.
I always have
. And though I hadn’t planned on getting blackmailed into marriage, I can’t say that marrying you hadn’t crossed my mind when we’d been together.” We had just been too young, and things had been too crazy.

“Then what the hell happened? How the hell did we go from you thinking about marrying me to breaking up with me instead?” Her anger returned, but with it was a hurt that tore at my soul. Because I swore, this was far more than her just being upset about us breaking up.

“I made you miserable, Wren. You were always upset or angry with me, doing everything you could to try to push me away.” But there was more, and I’d never told her. “And though the sex was fucking hot—it felt…wrong. Like I was forcing myself on you.”

“You never did anything I didn’t want or ask for, Ash.” But her cheeks flushed red and she wouldn’t look at me as her tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Fuck…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I felt like a total ass, even if it was the truth. My mother may have been the only woman in a huge family of men, but we’d been raised right, and were always respectful of women. Trying to give Wren what she wanted, what turned her on, made me question what I was doing, and left me feeling guilty for being so forceful with her.

“So, you broke up with me instead? That’s just fucking brilliant.” She looked so broken, and I still didn’t get it, which only made me feel like an even bigger ass.

I pulled her into my arms, ignoring her struggles as she pounded on my chest and cursed me. “I thought I was making you miserable, and figured if we broke up, you’d finally find someone who could truly make you happy. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Wren.”

“You didn’t just hurt me, Ash—you abandoned me and left me to fend for myself.” She choked back a sob that tore at my soul.

“What do you mean, I left you to fend for yourself?” I didn’t quite get it. It wasn’t as though I’d left her homeless and poor, or in some sort of bad situation. She’d been living at home, under her family’s protection. And yet, it felt like there was something she wasn’t telling me, and there was something about her words, her pain, that left me feeling devastated for her. “Talk to me, Wren.”

She just shook her head, her cheeks still wet with her tears, refusing to look me in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”

“It does matter—especially since this is clearly still affecting you.”
What the fuck had happened to her after our breakup?
“Was it someone else you dated? Did they fucking hurt you?”

“Yeah…that’s it. I had a bad date.” Except that she was being dismissive and sarcastic, and I knew that there was more to it all. She was still keeping something from me.

“Who was it? Because I’ll fucking kill them, Wren.” The thought of someone hurting her made my blood burn with rage.

She pulled out of my arms, and I let her, too pissed off to try holding onto her. “It’s no one—and it doesn’t matter. I don’t even remember his name.”

“What did he do to you, Wren?”