A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 – The End
Chapter 20
Two weeks later
“You’re making me uncomfortable. Can you step back, please?” I said to the guy, who was around my age, as he crowded into my personal space.
His breath reeked of alcohol and I grimaced.
The house was loud and bustling with drunk young adults.
Why did I convince my sister to come to this party? It was a bad idea and the moment I stepped through the door, I knew I was going to hate it. It was too loud and the smell of sweat and alcohol was heavy in the air.
It unsettled me.
“Oh c’mon,” he croaked, his fingers brushing over my stomach. “You’ve been eyeing me. Don’t play hard to get.”
Eyeing him? When? I didn’t know who he was and I didn’t even remember looking at him.
Fear slithered through my veins and I pushed at his chest, but he barely even moved.
My breath hitched and my heart slammed into my throat when his hand slid under my shirt, over my bare skin.
“No! Let me go, right now.”
He snarled in response, his face hardening at my refusal to succumb to his invasive touches.
He slammed my body into the wall, the back of my head knocking against it. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred.
I felt wet lips against my throat and that was when it happened.
He was wrenched away from me and Gracelynn stepped in front of me, shielding my body with her own.
My eyes widened when my sister reared back and then her fist met his face. I heard the sound of bones breaking and he howled.
“She said to let go, loser. What the hell. No is no,” she hissed.
The guy was sprawled on the floor. He let out a pained groan before his eyes rolled back into his head.
At the commotion, the crowd turned their attention on us and my knees weakened. Gracelynn grasped me by the elbow, pulling me through the sweaty bodies.
The moment we stepped out of the loud house and we were hit with fresh air, I could finally breathe again.
“fk,” my sister grunted, shaking her right hand. “I think I broke my hand. Oh sht, it hurts.”
“What?” I gasped, gently reaching for her, so I could take a look. It was red, but quickly turning into a purple shade and her hand was already swelling.
“Oh no. This doesn’t look good. I’m so sorry.”
Gracelynn let out a pained groan.
“This is my dominant hand. Ugh. Do you think you’ll be able to drive us back home?”
I nodded. Gracelynn had taught me how to drive.
Though I didn’t have my driver’s licence yet, I was pretty confident I would be able to drive us home.
It wasn’t that complicated. Just a few easy turns.
I started the car while my sister got in the passenger seat. She let out another agonized hiss and guilt gnawed at me. This was my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
Gracelynn shook her head. “It’s fine. Not your fault. That j erk deserved it.”
I pulled the car out of the driveaway and made an easy turn to the left.
It was past two AM and the streets were pretty much deserted. So, I wasn’t worried about traffic or panicking over too many cars driving past me.
But a few minutes later, Gracelynn made a strange sound in the back of her throat.
At first, I thought she was in pain, but after taking a quick glance at her, I saw unsettling fear and distress on her face.
“Julianna,” my sister started slowly, “I don’t want you to panic, but I think a car has been following us since we left the party.”
My heart leaped to my throat.
“What?”
I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw a black Range Rover behind us, all its windows tinted.
“Do you think it’s the guy you punched?” I asked shakily.
My sister shook her head.
“No. He was still inside, passed out when we left. That Range Rover was parked outside of the house and started following us the moment we pulled out from the driveaway.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Father has a lot of enemies, Julianna. And now we’re publicly connected to the Spencers.”
My stomach churned with nausea.
“You think someone wants to harm us?”
“Take a random right,” Gracelynn instructed me, instead of responding to my question.
I nodded, my fingers clenching the steering wheel, and I took the next right.
Taking a quick peek in rear-view again, I saw that the Range Rover had taken the same turn and was still following closely behind us.
My sister cursed under her breath.
“Take another random turn, this time left.”
I did as I was instructed and again, it took the same turn.
Gracelynn fumbled with her phone, calling someone. It had to be Simon. When no one picked up, she dialed the number two more times.
“Simon is not picking up.”
So my assumption was correct. I swallowed. “Call Dad.”
She did but nothing. Our calls ended up unanswered.
Just when I was about to tell her to call Killian, something collided into the back of our car.
Gracelynn let out a startled scream and she cupped her stomach.
I gasped, belatedly realizing that the car that had been following us closely had rear-ended us. Panicked, I kept my feet on the accelerator.
I didn’t obey the traffic laws, burning through two red lights, trying to escape whoever was following us.
“Julianna,” my sister whispered.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to pacify her.
“Nothing is going to happen to us.”
I took another peek in the rear-view mirror and my eyes widened.
My lips parted with a silent scream and my arm snaked out in front of my sister, as if to protect her from the impact.
The Range Rover crashed into the back of our car again.
My head slammed into the steering wheel, pain slithering through my skull. Too late, I realized that I had lost control and our car spun in a circle.
My ears were ringing and I blinked several times, trying to clear my vision.
Gracelynn let out a whimper and I focused on her. Tears slid down her cheeks and she cupped her stomach, protectively.
“I’m scared, Julianna.”
Thud.
My heart pounded in my chest.
Thud. Thud.
I saw it coming, through the window where my sister was seated.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The black Range Rover drove toward us at full speed. It collided against the passenger’s side, Gracelynn being the first to feel the impact.
I heard my sister’s scream first.
And then my own.
Before the world went pitch-black.
“NO!” I bellowed, my eyes snapping open.
Next to me, Killian startled awake.
“Julianna?” He questioned carefully, brushing my damp hair away from my face.
My chest tightened, and I wheezed, sobbing heavily. Shivers racked through my body.
Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I fought the urge to retch.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memories flashed behind my closed lids, in black-and-white images, as if the accident had been documented through a Polaroid.
Oh my God. I was going to be sick.
“Julianna,” Killian called out my name, more urgently now.
“Did you have another nightmare? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
My lungs squeezed as I struggled to breathe.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
My stomach churned with nausea, tears sliding down my cheeks.
I couldn’t control the tremors, and I couldn’t stop crying.
“It… wasn’t an accident,” I wheezed through my choked cries. “I remember. I remember… everything.”
Killian pulled me into his lap, rocking me back and forth. I buried my face in his neck and let out an anguished wail.
His lips brushed against my temple and he was whispering comforting words to me, but I didn’t understand them.
Blood roared between my ears and my brain stuttered.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I repeated. “Someone tried… to kill us.”
.
A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 – The End
My father slammed his fist onto his desk and I flinched. “Why am I just learning about this now?” he roared.
“Someone attempted to kill my daughter while she was on your island and you hid something so important from me?”
Last night, after I had woken from my nightmare – which turned out to be my real memory of the accident – Killian and I came to one conclusion.
Gracelynn and I weren’t drunk that night, but how did my hospital records show alcohol in my blood at the time of the accident?
Everything was slowly making sense now.
The accident was a planned murder.
And the maid who tried to kill me? That wasn’t a separate incident.
The person who wanted Gracelynn and I dead that night, was still out there, hunting me.
I was a target and the maid was the second attempt at my life.
Gracelynn and I didn’t have any personal enemies… so whoever wanted us dead was either an enemy of my father or the Spencers.
In the morning, Killian and I left the island.
Now, this was a truth we couldn’t hide from our fathers.
Our first stop was the Spencer Manor and while William was shocked and deeply troubled, he reacted less angrily than my father.
My eyes darted to my husband, who was sitting beside me on the couch in my father’s office.
Killian rubbed his thumb over his jaw, lazily. Not at all concerned about my father’s outburst. But me? I was practically shaking on the inside.
“Dad–”
My father’s eyes darted to me, furiously.
“I didn’t expect this from you, Julianna. To hide such dangerous truth!”
He pushed away from his desk, pacing back and forth.
“Killian obviously doesn’t care about the threat, but you – how could you be so irresponsible?” he accused, throwing his words at me, so carelessly.
“Do you even realize that you could be carrying the Romano’s heir right now? How are you so reckless?”
When I flinched again, Killian’s chest rumbled with a threatening growl.
“Watch your tone when you speak to my wife.”
“She’s my daughter,” my father hissed.
“I already lost one and now I learn that Julianna’s life is also in danger? How do you think that makes me feel?”
Killian sat forward, dark eyes flaring with something dangerous.
“Still, that doesn’t give you the right to raise your voice at Julianna when she’s also a victim. She wasn’t irresponsible, like you claimed. She was being a considerate and thoughtful daughter.”
“As if you care,” my father spat. “You hate Julianna and I’m sure you wouldn’t give a crap if she died. You’d probably think good riddance.”
I grimaced and bile rose in my throat, tasting bitter on my tongue.
“That’s rich coming from you, Bishop,” Killian said, his voice deep and gravelly.
“You were aware of how much I loathed your daughter, yet I was the husband you chose for her. For your own personal gains. So, spare me the speech.”
“Stop,” I whispered, wringing my hands together. “Please, stop arguing.”
Killian’s jaw snapped close. I could hear him grounding his molars together.
“Can we focus on what’s important right now?” I asked shakily. “Dad, do you know who would want me dead?”
My father rubbed a hand over his face, with a frustrated grunt.
“I have way too many enemies, Julianna.”
“Are you doubtful of a specific person?” Killian questioned, brows furrowing.
Father nodded, letting out a weary sigh. “I have two people in mind. But it’s only a suspicion until we have further proof.”
“Send the details to me. I’ll have someone look into it,” my husband demanded.
“Whoever is responsible for this, I’ll fbcking kill them myself,” my father spat, his dark eyes enraged.
Killian’s nostrils flared. “Not if I get to them first.”
Father’s fists clenched and he planted them on his desk.
“I don’t trust you to take care of my daughter. She will stay here, with me, where I can protect her.”
Killian’s chest rumbled with a deep growl.
“I took a bullet for my wife,” he snarled.
“I’ve done everything to protect Julianna and to make sure she doesn’t get put in harm’s way.”
My husband stood up and stalked forward. He braced his hands over my father’s desk and leaned forward, locking eyes with his father-in-law.
The air in the room felt heavy and thick with tension. The silent, unspoken threat crawled over my skin and I fought back a shiver.
Killian Spencer was confident in his own skin, in the way he walked and in the power he had.
He knew who he was and he was never one to bow. People bent over backwards for him, but Killian was the most self-assured person I knew.
Even more than my father.
“Let me remind you again, Julianna is my wife,” Killian said calmly, but his voice was laced with a silent warning. “And she will be staying with me. End of discussion.”
My father wasn’t one to accept defeat so easily.
I could see the dark fury on his face.
“How about we let Julianna choose where she wants to stay?”
“Julianna,” Killian said my name, keeping his back to me.
His gaze didn’t waver from my father’s face. “Make your choice. Your father or me?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. That was an easy choice.
I stood up and limped over to my husband. My fingers curled around his elbow and Killian’s lips twitched.
“Dad, please,” I started, only to pause at the look of utter betrayal on my father’s face.
When he suggested for me to make a choice, he had been so sure I would choose him.
But by choosing Killian, I had marked my father’s defeat.
And that made Bishop Romano bitter.
“Gracelynn would have chosen differently,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I winced and my stomach churned with nausea.
Killian tensed beside me, but before he could say anything, I cleared my throat.
Shoved away the pain my father caused with five simple words.
I wanted to say that I had grown used to my father’s lack of concern for my emotional well-being, but even after so many years – it still hurt.
That he always saw me as a burden.
And that I was never his priority.
“I know you’re worried because you care,” I choked through the lump in my throat. “But I should go home with Killian. I trust him to keep me safe.”
“And there you go, Bishop. My wife has spoken,” Killian hissed.
He grasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together to show our solid union before he tugged me out of my father’s office.
.
I sat on the king-size bed, hands on my lap. The shower turned off and a few minutes later, Killian walked out with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
This was my first time staying at the Spencer Manor.
While I thought I would have my own bedroom, like on the island, I had been wrong.
Because the butler brought my suitcase to Killian’s room.
I waited for my husband to kick me out, but when he didn’t, it became clear that my suitcase wasn’t brought here by mistake.
Killian’s bedroom was elegant and immaculate.
While I was used to something brighter and livelier, his room was all black and grey. Moody. But it suited him well.
The only thing fancy about the room was the crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling and the painting of a black horse running wild and free, attached to the wall over his headboard.
“We’re sharing a room?” I questioned, licking my dry lips.
“Yes,” he deadpanned, without elaborating further on that.
“Why?” My eyes followed him around his room as he stalked into his walk-in closet.
He came back out, wearing grey sweatpants. His chest was bare and his hair was still damp from his shower.
“Because it’d be safer if you stay close to me,” Killian finally responded to my question.
He took a seat on the chair, on the opposite end of the room, and he stretched out his legs in front of him.
We sat facing each other, the tension in the air thick and palpable.
We still haven’t acknowledged the fact that last night, after our midnight sx, we had somehow fallen asleep tangled together.
It was a first and, coincidentally, that was the same night my memories came back to me.
As if it was meant to happen that way. For Killian to be there with me when I woke up from that horrid nightmare – to soothe me.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “The accident… I wasn’t drunk that night. It wasn’t my fault.”
This whole day had been a mess and I never got a chance to think or to acknowledge the emotions I had buried inside me.
The harsh realization was that… for three years, I bore the heavy burden of guilt and allowed it to stain my life because I thought I was the culprit – the one who killed my sister.
“But I was still the reason why we sneaked out that night.” I wiped my tears away. Hot anguish burned through me.
“Maybe if… we hadn’t…”
“Come here,” Killian ordered, beckoning for me to come closer.
I went to him and his arm snaked out, grasping my hand in his and tugging me onto his lap.
His body was strong and warm. Both dominating and comforting. I burrowed my face into the crook of his shoulders, inhaling his fresh and natural manly scent.
His lips brushed against my temple, so tenderly, it surprised me.
“You have to forgive yourself first and that’s when you will find true salvation.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the tears. “I don’t know how.”
“Guilt is toxic, Julianna,” he said. “As long as you carry that burden, you will continue to relive the past over and over again. You’ll never be able to forgive yourself then. We’re humans and we’re severely flawed. You and Gracelynn innocently sneaked out that night. Like most young adults do. So, forgive yourself because you can’t see the future. You didn’t know this accident would have happened.”
I fell silent, considering his words. Tears flooded down my cheeks and I sniffled, quietly.
Killian could probably hear me since I was doing such a bad job at being quiet, but he allowed me to have this moment.
Everything he said made sense, but there was an ache burrowed deep inside my chest. I didn’t know if I’d ever be rid of it.
I might forgive myself one day, but I would never be able to forget the look of death on my sister’s bloodied and mangled face.
I had lost three years, tormenting myself. Atoning for a sin that wasn’t mine.
Self-destructing because I thought I deserved it. Because I thought it was all my fault.
But I wasn’t Gracelynn’s killer.
And once that realization dawned to me, it was like a whole burden had been lifted off my chest. My shoulders slumped and I felt… weightless.
Killian and I sat like this for a long time, finding comfort in the silence. And in each other’s arms. I half-expected him to initiate sx, but when he didn’t, I found myself surprisingly relieved.
Because I wanted more than just something physical.
Atleast for tonight.
I wanted tenderness and intimacy.
“Do you still hate me?” I whispered, when I started to fall asleep.
I blinked hard once then twice, forcing myself to say awake so I could hear his answer.
His fingers stroking down my bare arm paused.
“Just like pain is subjective… hate is all grey areas, no black-and-white certainties.”
.
.
A MARRIAGE OF HATE: Chapter 11 – The End
Click 11 below to continue reading