Girl Wife Prisoner Read online

  “You think Drake’s father killed his mother?”

  Keir pursed his lips. “It was certainly possible. He was a very bitter, angry man by the end of it. After she died he became inconsolable, broken. He died less than a year after she did. A heart attack, apparently.”

  “What do you mean ‘apparently’?”

  He shrugged.

  “There’s more to this story,” I said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. There are some that say…” he trailed off.

  “Some that say what?”

  “These are only rumors…”

  “Tell me.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “There are some that say that Drake’s father…was murdered.”

  “Murdered? By who…?” my voice trailed off when I realized there was only one person who would have benefited. “No.”

  “There are ways to fake a heart attack.”

  “You don’t really believe Drake killed his own father, do you? Why would he murder his own father?”

  “To get revenge for the murder of his mother. To inherit all of their money. Or both. There are even people who believe that Drake killed both of them.”

  A chill overtook me and I fought back the shiver.

  “They say that Drake looks more like his mother.” Keir glanced around us before leaning closer, speaking again in a lowered voice. “But if there’s one thing Drake has inherited from his father, it’s his temper.”

  But he was so careful with me last night when he took my virginity. Would a monster be so gentle with me? Could a murderer be so caring?

  It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. I wouldn’t believe my husband was a murderer. “I don’t believe it. He didn’t kill his parents. That’s just terrible gossip.”

  Keir shrugged. “It probably is. But just…be careful.”

  Be careful. I couldn’t help but smile a little.

  “Why are you smiling?” he said. “I’m being serious here.”

  “You almost sound like you care.”

  He froze, his eyes widening just a fraction. Then he pulled back, scowling. “I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t give a shit. You being here or not doesn’t affect me one bit. In fact, I couldn’t tell you how many shits I don’t give.”

  “Why did you go out of your way to warn me?”

  “Because…my father told me not to and he can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

  “Because you care,” I said quietly.

  “Because you’re an ignorant girl who needs to know who she married for money.”

  “Don’t you dare−”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? You married him for money? You barely know him. You didn’t even know about his parents. So don’t tell me you married him for love.”

  I didn’t want to admit that he was right. Then I’d have to tell him the truth. “Why are you being horrible to me again?”

  “Who says I ever stopped.” He stood. “Find your own way out.” With that he left.

  * * *

  Later that evening I sat in the window box in my room, my mind still whirring over what happened earlier with Keir. He was so afraid to care. I could see that.

  Remember your place, son.

  My father told me not to and he can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.

  There was an unworthiness that his father had handed down to him, that was trying desperately to fight. But I could see Keir. I saw the way he shone from the inside.

  I wanted to find a way to show him his worth. I wanted to shine a light on that part of himself that he couldn’t see.

  But I couldn’t. I should let him keep his distance. Getting closer to him was a path, although beautiful, that would only lead only to ruin. Look at what happened to the senior Mrs. Blackwell.

  I thought about Drake’s family tragedies, my mind folding over and over again with every possible truth as fear and pity twisted into a strange potion in my gut. Could Drake be a murderer? Was he just a victim of a horrible family tragedy? Or was he both, a creation of the sins of his parents?

  In some ways we − Drake, Keir and I − were the same. I wondered, could we ever escape the legacy of our parents?

  The book I chose at random to try to distract my thoughts wasn’t helping; Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier was about a husband who may or may not have killed his ex-wife. As the main character swayed from yes to no, so did I.

  My door banged open. I let out a small scream and jumped to my feet, the book jolting from my hands to the floor. Mr. Blackwell stood in my doorframe, crumpled business shirt, tie askew, messy hair ruffled as if he had run his hand through it over and over. He was breathing heavily and his cheeks were red and puffy as if he had just been yelling.

  “Drake, what−”

  “Come here,” he said, his voice thick with barely contained anger.

  I didn’t move.

  You don’t really believe Drake’s a murderer, do you?

  If there’s one thing he has inherited from his father, it’s his temper.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Drake didn’t answer. He didn’t even look like he’d heard me. He looked possessed. Fear shot through me. What had I done that displeased him? Did he hear about the dress?

  Did Celeste tell him I was looking for Keir? Did he find out that Keir told me about his parents earlier this afternoon?

  Your husband is a jealous man.

  Drake advanced towards me, a dead look in his eyes. I backed away out of instinct, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. “Mr. Blackwell, Drake, please, you’re scaring me.”

  He grabbed my arm in one of his hands. I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut as I braced for the first hit.

  8

  Drake grabbed my chin with his other hand and forced me to look at him. His eyes were wide and wild, almost black, his pupils almost swallowing up his irises. I held my breath.

  He smacked his lips onto mine in a bruising kiss. I was crushed against him by his arms coiling around me. I shivered with a mix of fear and adrenaline. At least this time as he touched me I felt something.

  His tongue pushed its way into my mouth. When I fought back with my own he let out a low groan and pressed his hips against me. One of his hands came between us to grab my breast before fumbling at my buttons.

  He tore his mouth away from mine and stared down at the dress that was causing him so much angst, a royal blue Alexander McQueen t-shirt dress with buttons all up the front.

  “Fucking buttons.” He grabbed either side with his hands and ripped it apart, buttons pinging to the floor like shrapnel.

  “Drake¸” I cried as he pushed the dress off my shoulders.

  “Don’t talk.” He crushed his mouth to mine again.

  I tried to push his face away from mine. He was kissing me so hard my teeth had cut the inside of my mouth, the iron taste of blood on my tongue and his. But he wouldn’t let go. He picked me up in his arms and pulled my legs around his waist, carrying me to the bed as his hands pawed and gripped at my ass.

  He dropped me on the mattress and for a second I was too startled to move. I stared up at him through my lashes, my breath rushing in and out of my lungs. He glared at me, his face tight with coiled rage. I wasn’t sure whether he wanted to hit me or fuck me.

  He flipped me over to my stomach. I heard his zipper going down. I heard the tear of foil. I crawled across the mattress. It dipped behind me as he followed me, like a widening hole that was going to swallow me up. He grabbed my ankles, his grip tight as shackles, and yanked me closer. Out of instinct I kicked and kicked hard. My heel collided with his solid thigh, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

  He slid his arm under my hips and pulled my ass up against him. He yanked my underwear down to my knees. The air rushed between my legs, chilling me. I felt his erection, guided by his hand, push into my body, still tight with shock. I let out a cry as he let out a
groan.

  He didn’t start slow this time. He held my hips still as he thrusted into me. It hurt, my body still tender, but not as much as the first time. I sucked in my bottom lip and stared at the tight weaving of my snow-white thousand thread-count luxury Egyptian cotton sheets, as he did what he did, his body slamming against mine, his grunting filling the room.

  He came quickly and furiously. Then it was over.

  He collapsed, rolling to the side so not to crush me. He still clutched me tightly, his fingers digging into me. Eventually his breathing slowed.

  I heard the snapping of rubber as he disposed of the condom before he turned me around to face him. With gentle hands, he brushed back the hair from my face.

  “Riko, did I hurt you?” he asked, his forehead crinkled with worry. “I couldn’t stand it if I hurt you. I don’t know what came over me,” he whispered. His voice was so soft it startled me.

  Where was the man who grabbed me and used me so roughly? Who was this man touching me so gently now?

  Despite what had just happened, pity crept into the cracks of my apprehension, softening my heart. My poor husband. My poor broken husband. Victim of his parents’ sins.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” I lied. This was what good wives were supposed to do. They lied for their husbands. Sometimes they let their husbands use their bodies like I let him use mine. I hated pretending to be a good wife. But I had to keep Drake happy. The alternative was too terrible to bear.

  He seemed to accept my lie, because he breathed out a sigh and his face smoothed out. “Thank God,” he said.

  He pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me. We lay there together just breathing. This was…nice.

  I made a decision then and there. I had to give this marriage a real shot. The past cannot be rewritten. I had to try to make the best out of it. Or I’d go mad. I had to believe that my husband was a good man. I had to try to understand him. Maybe, one day, I could learn to love him.

  I had to stay away from Keir. I couldn’t entertain any more thoughts about him. I had to forget about this intense connection we had, just until it faded.

  Drake’s body was still taut. I pulled back to study him. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was a tension in his jaw making the tendons of his neck stand out.

  I pushed away from him and he let me go. I knelt on my knees, patting his arm. “Sit up,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Sit on the edge of the bed with your legs over the side.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Please?” I added quickly, like a good polite girl would.

  He stared suspiciously at me for a moment and I almost laughed. What did he think I was going to do? Shoot him in the back?

  He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. I crawled on my knees behind him and began to rub my fingers along his neck.

  He let out a long groan. “Oh, Riko, that’s exactly what I need.”

  “You’ve had a very bad day at work,” I guessed.

  “I have. How did you know?”

  “I notice things. As your wife it’s my job to notice these things in you.”

  He hummed under his breath. But he didn’t answer and I didn’t ask what was wrong.

  By the time I finished my massage his knots were looser. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down to sit next to him.

  “I had a very bad day,” he said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You don’t want to hear about it.”

  “Drake, I’m your wife.” I clasped his hand in mine. “I want to hear about the things that trouble you.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. There was surprise in his eyes and something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher.

  I wasn’t supposed to push but… “If you can’t talk about it with me,” I said, “who can you talk about it with?”

  “You really want to know?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay.” He sighed. “I’ve been going through a takeover of another company. It’s been a…challenging task. The company I’m taking over is more inefficient with their resources then I first thought. There’s a lot of ‘dead wood’ I have to get rid of. Today…” his voice trailed off.

  I squeezed his hand. Go on.

  “Today I had to fire some employees.” Drake rubbed his face with his free hand. “Over a thousand employees lost their jobs today because of me. A thousand families…” I could see the guilt souring his mouth and crinkling his eyes.

  Good wives weren’t supposed to interfere in their husbands’ business matters. But I couldn’t just say nothing. “You said the company you’re taking over was inefficient with resources?”

  “They would have gone under in less than three months if we weren’t taking them over.”

  “How many employees are in that company?”

  “After the thousand I let go today, only around two thousand left.”

  “So perhaps it’s not that you took away a thousand jobs today, but that you saved two thousand. You said so yourself that the entire company would have gone under if you hadn’t taken them over.”

  Drake stared at me silently, and for so long that I thought I must have said something naïve. I didn’t have much business knowledge, I’d admit.

  “Saved two thousand…” he said quietly. “Do you really believe that?”

  I smiled. “I do. But it’s more important that you believe it.”

  Tenderly he ran his fingers down my cheek. “You are…so much more than I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  Drake let out a small laugh. “I’m afraid to say.”

  “Afraid to say because you…think I might be insulted?”

  He flinched. “Yes.” He grabbed me, pulling me across him so I was straddling his lap. “You’ve seen through me again. How do you do that?”

  “I don’t know. I just do.”

  He kissed me and I felt him grow hard.

  Soon he was sheathed again and was lowering me onto him. This time he let me control the pace. At first my movements felt awkward, but I soon got the hang of it. As I rode him he gripped me as if I might float away from him, his hushed voice calling out, “Riko. Fuck, Riko,” as he neared orgasm.

  It was in that moment, right before he came, when he let his guard down. I felt his loneliness, raw and deep, battering against me like a giant wave.

  Drake needed me. He needed me more than I needed him.

  Maybe I could learn to love him. Or at least to understand him. Drake wasn’t so different from me. We were both lost and lonely souls, empty of love. Maybe we could be lonely together? Maybe we could fill each other?

  But if I was going to love him I needed to let go of the life I lost. I needed to start…wanting things again.

  Keir flashed through my mind. I needed to start wanting things that I could have. I needed to have a dream. But first…

  After he came, Drake and I lay next to each other on the bed, the sides of our arms touching.

  “I meant to ask you something,” I said.

  “What is it?”

  “I want…to see the sun set over the ocean.”

  “The sun set?”

  “I…” Would he think it was stupid? “I’ve only ever seen the sun rise over the ocean. Never the sun setting over it.”

  “Riko, I’m not letting you gallivant around the country alone.”

  “I wouldn’t be gallivanting−”

  “No.”

  “What if you take me?”

  “You can see the sunset from here.”

  “But…it has to be over the ocean.”

  “Why?”

  “I…” I couldn’t tell him. I wasn’t even sure I could express it if I wanted to. “It just does.”

  “It seems silly.”

  My inside burned. Drake didn’t get it. And I didn’t know how to explain it… “Please, will you let your wife have th
is one little wish? Think of it as a wedding gift. Please?”

  He took a deep breath then slowly let it out, his lips pursing as he appeared to ponder it. “Wouldn’t you rather something else? Diamonds? More dresses?”

  I shook my head. “It would mean so much to me.”

  “I suppose so… There’s a small beach village, an inlet, only an hour away from here. Remote. Private. My father used to take me sometimes when I was a boy,” his eyes glazed over as he spoke. “Father and son fishing trips. It was nice to go just with him, without… I haven’t been since…” his voice trailed off.

  My chest tightened. He hadn’t been since his father died?

  “I’d love to see it,” I said.

  “Maybe in a few days when my schedule clears up.”

  A few days. I could wait a few days. “In a few days. You promise?”

  “I promise.” He got up and went to the bathroom to wash up.

  When he came out he walked over to my bed and placed a kiss on my forehead. I knew he meant to leave.

  “Will you stay?” I asked before I could stop myself. If he would let me have my wish to see the ocean then perhaps he would grant me this too.

  “Stay…the night?”

  “I don’t like sleeping alone,” I admitted. Back home I shared a bed with my sisters. Their warm limbs and soft snores wrapped me with the feeling of belonging and of warmth. I wanted desperately to feel it again.

  “I like my bed,” he said.

  I started to climb out of bed. “I can come with−”

  “I don’t sleep well with someone else in my bed.” Drake didn’t meet my eyes. “Besides, I have an early start tomorrow. Good night, Riko.”

  He disappeared out my door and shut it behind him.

  I remained stunned for a moment, half-expecting that he would come back, one leg out of bed, blankets pushed partly back, before it became clear that he wouldn’t.

  I turned out the side light and curled myself into a ball, pulling the thin cover over me. In the dark of my bedroom this giant house loomed around me like a canyon. I felt lost and very alone, as I lay deep in the bitter depths of it.

  I tried to ignore the tiny sting of tears at my jaw. I missed the ones who loved me. I missed them so fiercely I thought my body might shatter. I couldn’t help but wonder if Drake could ever love me like I wanted to be loved.