Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“And if I say no?”
“We’ll find another way. Maybe one of the cousins. I was thinking Quinnie.”
I groan, looking up at the sky. This manipulative bastard knows what he’s doing. Cousin Quinnie, four years my junior, barely out of university, shy and quiet and skinny little Quinnie. “You’ve gotta be fucking joking.”
“There aren’t many options right now, you know, and it’s got to be someone close to the heart of the clan. If not you, then Quinnie. If not her, then Orla, and if not her, well, I’ll find someone.”
“Fuck.” I rub my face with both hands. There’s not much anger left. I keep picturing shy little Quinnie in a wedding dress sold off to those American bastards, her big eyes bugged out and terrified, her little head of tight curls bouncing up and down as she’s dragged into some brute’s wedding bed.
Fucking bastard, Rian. He knows what he’s doing, putting that image in my head, but it isn’t a lie. He’ll go to Quinnie next, and she’ll be too spineless to say no.
“It’s all fucked, no matter how it goes.” Rian gazes out over the graves. “I don’t want it to be you, either.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
“We’ve been discussing it since Papa died. This is the best we came up with.”
“I’ll hate him. You know that.”
“I know.”
“I might hate you a little bit too.”
“I know. Another sacrifice for the clan.”
I groan, squeezing my eyes closed, and sink down to the ground. I sit with my knees pulled to my chest. My ass gets damp from the rain-slicked concrete. Rian sits next to me, posture slumped and exhausted.
We sit in silence like that for a while. I think of Quinnie and all the other Grady girls that’ll be dragged into this if I don’t say yes. A dozen good girls, virgin girls just like me, except they don’t have the choice like I do, and I’ll have to live with what happens if it’s one of them instead.
The clan gets what it needs in the end, whether we want it to or not, and if I can save one of my little cousins from this fate then I’ve got to do it.
Better me than one of them. Better suffer in hell than live with the guilt.
I’m strong. I’m Papa’s daughter. I learned to survive a long time ago, and if anyone’s going to make it through this miserable situation, it’ll be me.
“Alright, Chim,” I say, looking at him. “Sell me to the Americans.”
“Alright, Fallie. The wedding’s in three days, and I’ll be there the whole time, I promise.”
Some fucking comfort that is.
Chapter 2
Jayson
“You know it’s got to be this way.” Adler stands behind me as I lean against the balcony railing. Dozens of stories below, the ocean crawls against the sand like a gray tongue. That damn water stretches forever, crawling with strange life. An entirely different planet, upside-down to ours. Right about now, I’d rather be down at the bottom of the sea than having this conversation.
“I was there fighting the damn war,” I tell him, not turning around. I swirl a glass of whiskey as the cold ocean breeze blows through my lightweight cashmere sweater. I’m in all black, head to toe. If anyone asked, I’d say it’s a mourning thing, but truth be told I’m always dressed like this. One less choice to make if there’s only one color in my wardrobe.
“Which is why it’s got to be you. Besides, the rest of us are already married.” Adler comes up beside me and stares straight ahead. My big brother, the head of the Costa Family, the entire operation resting on his shoulders. He’s only two years my senior, but the stress makes him seem older. Gray streaks his beard and his hair. Lines spiderweb around his eyes.
“Must be nice,” I say even though that isn’t fair. My brothers got married long before this choice had to be made. “You can’t blame me for not wanting her.”
“The girl’s pretty, from what I hear.”
“I don’t really care about that.”
“I know. I’m trying to come up with something that’ll take the edge off.”
I grunt at him. I don’t want to be smoothed over. I don’t want the pain to dull, not right now. I’d rather down this whiskey, throw the glass into the sky, and follow it down. “They murdered Jackson. They killed a dozen more of my soldiers.”
“You killed their patriarch and a couple dozen of their cousins and brothers. That’s how these wars go.”
“He was my best friend.” I grip the railing tight enough to turn my knuckles white.
I can still see him bleeding in my arms. Coughing up crimson, his lips splattered with it. Grinning, showing red-stained teeth. I’ll be alright, man. I’ll be alright. Trying to comfort me in the end when we both knew he was fucked. That’s the kind of friend I lost. More like a brother, more like a piece of my soul.