Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 3

Three

Talia

W hen Burn finally helps me down onto a creaky dock, dusk is falling over the landscape. The rocks that jut out around the spot where he moors the boat throw creepy shadows. My mouth is pinched and my eyes rove constantly as I try to figure out where Burn has brought me.

The tip of the island is gray and rocky. As I follow Burn down the well-worn footpath, we are quickly engulfed in tall, fragrant evergreen trees. I suck in a breath of briny air. Burn could be leading me anywhere along the north Atlantic coast. Tears press at my eyes.

Where the fuck am I? I press my hands to my pregnant stomach, feeling my child moving restlessly inside. Thinking that the baby knows when I’m stressed, I try to calm the thrum of my pounding heart.

Burn doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder when he speaks. He knows I’m still following his footsteps. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

I slow my steps, grimacing at Burn’s back. All around us, the wind rustles the evergreen trees. Birds chirp. I can see the blue sky above and the endless dusty brown trail that we seem to be walking. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out where we are.

Then the tree line thins as dramatically as it began. I step out from under the shelter of the last few trees and see a ramshackle cabin tucked in between two gentle hills. It’s beside a peaceful, placid lake, hidden away from sight. The lake is surrounded on three sides by rolling green hills and looks like something out of a movie.

I scrunch my face up, a strange sense of recognition rolling through me. I’m almost certain that I’ve been here. “Where are we?”

Burn snorts. “You don’t get to ask questions, Talia.”

He keeps walking, making a beeline for the little cabin. The structure is the same color as the dusty ground around it and the roof looks like it might fall in at any moment.

The cabin is small, a single story, built in the early 1800s. Though the outside is rotting and it’s in serious need of a paint job, it still manages to look quaint, albeit run down.

There is a rusted tin roof in desperate need of repair, thick discolored glass for the windows, heavy, threadbare curtains, and paint peeling from the logs and rotting wood siding.

Once you get past the summer weeds, you see the pine logs that make up the cabin. They’re weathered and worn, but it's clear this was once a place of beauty.

I follow Burn, anxiety beginning to build inside my chest as I close in.

Burn swings the cabin’s door open, waving a hand at the plume of dust that rises in the air.

“After you, Mrs. Morgan.”

His words hit me like he's plunged a knife into my heart. My hands tremble as I move forward, reaching out to the door. The door creaks when I pull it open, one of the hinges threatening to break in protest.

I step into the dim interior. There is no electricity, and my eyes have to adjust to the dim light from the doorway. The cabin is musty and dark, cobwebs clinging to the rafters. An old cot and a scarred table are the only furniture. Burn shoves me inside, the door creaking shut behind us.

"Please," I whisper. I turn to Burn, pleading with him. "You can still let me go."

"Not a chance." He folds his arms, smug satisfaction etched into his features. "You're going to stay right here until Dare comes to his senses."

"My husband will come for me," I say.

Burn moves toward me and for a second I fear that he's about to hit me. But he moves past me and pulls out a silver lighter, lighting a kerosene lamp that hangs on the wall.

I clamp my mouth shut, staring at the floor.Do I really believe that Dare will rescue me from this lunatic?

Yes. I have tobelieve that he will come for me.

The light from the lamp is feeble, but it's something. I turn, gazing at the space around me. The cabin is small with two windows facing the lake and a small fireplace in the corner.

"You're a fucking idiot if you think he'll come for you," Burn growls, almost to himself. "And if he does, I'm ready to tell him the truth about the baby's conception. He deserves to be told that I'm the father of your baby."

"He already knows the truth!" I blurt out. Desperation and fury war inside me. "He's known all along. It was his idea to deceive you in the first place."

A tic pulses in Burn's jaw and his eyes Burn into mine. "Bullshit."

"You think I dreamed this whole thing up by myself and forced him into it? No one forces Dare Morgan into anything he doesn't want to do."

He sneers. "Liar. You manipulated him into believing your lies. But I won't give up so easily." He stalks toward me, backing me against the wall.

I shrink away, pulse racing.All my senses are on high alert and I have the distracting thought that Burn smells clean and masculine like Dare. Burn sees the conflict in my eyes and pounces on it.

"You want me," he says softly. "I can see it in your eyes. And once Dare realizes you've moved on, he'll be free of your toxic influence."

Revulsion rises in my throat. "I don't want you. I had sex with you once, sure. But then I met Dare. I wish... I wish I'd met him first."

He grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes blaze with obsession. "You're mine, Talia. You always have been, and you always will be. Deny it all you like, but we both know the truth."

I wrench away, nausea churning my stomach. "The only truth is that you're insane."

Burn's expression hardens. "You'll change your tune soon enough."

He turns on his heel and stalks out, slamming the door behind him. The sound of a heavy lock clicks into place, sealing me in my prison. Alone, with only the small lamp for solace. No escape to be had and no hope of salvation.

Burn has won this round.