MARRY YOUR KILLER
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Warning
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The wedding was in three days.
Jay stood in her room, the white dress hanging on the door, her mother's pearls in her hand. The dress was different from the engagement dress. Simpler. White silk that fell to her feet, sleeves that covered the scars on her arms, a neckline that showed the pearls her mother had given her.
She hadn't tried it on yet. She couldn't.
The door opened. Keifer stood in the doorway. His face was tired. His eyes were dark. He was holding a cup of coffee, the way he always did in the morning, the way he had done every morning since she moved into his house.
She took the coffee. Her fingers brushed his. She didn't pull away.
"Three days," she said.
"Three days."
She looked at the dress. White and waiting.
"We should tell them," she said. "About the contract. About the two years. About—"
"No."
She looked at him.
He stepped into the room. He closed the door behind him. He stood close enough to touch.
"We tell them," he said, "and they'll spend the next two years watching. Waiting for us to fail. Waiting for us to leave. Waiting for the contract to end."
She looked at his face. At the shadows under his eyes. At the scar on his lip from the fight she hadn't been there for.
"And if we don't tell them?"
He took her hand. His fingers were warm. His grip was steady.
"Then we figure it out ourselves. What we are. What we want. What happens when the two years are over."
She looked at their hands. His fingers laced with hers.
"You want to keep it a secret," she said.
"I want to keep it ours."
She looked at him. The enemy. The stranger. The man she was supposed to leave.
"Three days," she said again.
"Three days."
He kissed her forehead. Soft. Brief. He walked out of the room.
The dress hung on the door. The pearls were warm in her hand. She looked at the window, at the garden where they had thrown mud at each other, at the steps where they had sat until the sun rose.
Three days.
---
Freya found Keifer in the garden.
He was standing by the fence, his hands in his pockets, his face turned toward the house. The sun was setting. The sky was gold. The flowers were blooming again, the ones Care had been tending, the ones that had survived the mud and the chaos.
Freya walked to the fence. She stood beside him. Her face was calm. Her hands were empty. But Keifer had seen her fight. He knew her hands were never empty.
"You're marrying her in three days," Freya said.
"Yes."
She didn't speak for a moment. She looked at the house. At the window where Jay's room was, where the dress was hanging, where her best friend was waiting for a wedding she hadn't chosen.
"She signed a contract," Freya said. "Two years. Then she leaves."
Keifer didn't answer.
"I read it. She left it on her desk. I wasn't supposed to see it. But I did."
He looked at her. Her face was calm. Her eyes were not.
"It was her idea," he said. "The contract. The two years. The leaving."
Freya turned to face him. Her arms were crossed. Her jaw was tight.
"I don't care whose idea it was," she said. "I don't care about the contract. I don't care about the war. I don't care about your families or your money or anything else."
She stepped closer. Her voice dropped.
"If you hurt her," she said, "I will kill you myself."
Keifer didn't move. His face was calm. His hands were still in his pockets.
"I'm not going to hurt her," he said.
"You already have." Freya's voice was sharp. "You've already hurt her. Every day you sit in that study and pretend you don't feel anything. Every night you walk past her door and pretend you don't want to open it. Every morning you make her coffee and pretend it doesn't mean something."
She stepped closer. Her face was inches from his.
"She's been alone her whole life," Freya said. "Her father was sick. Her mother was cold. Her uncle was trying to kill her. The only people who loved her were the ones she had to protect. She never learned how to let anyone in."
Keifer's jaw tightened.
"And now she's marrying you," Freya said. "She's marrying you, and she signed a contract that says she has to leave in two years, and she's trying so hard not to want you that she's forgetting how to want anything else."
She took a breath. Her voice was steady.
"If you hurt her, I will kill you. Not because I'm her bodyguard. Not because I'm her friend. Because she deserves someone who stays. And if you're not going to be that person, I will make sure you never get the chance to pretend you were."
Keifer looked at her. The sun was behind her, gold and red, painting her face in shadow.
"You love her," he said.
Freya's face didn't change. "She's my family."
"That's not what I asked."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she stepped back. Her arms uncrossed.
"I love her," she said. "She's the only family I have. She's the only person who ever looked at me and saw something other than a weapon."
She looked at the house. At the window where Jay's room was.
"I won't let anyone take her from me. Not her uncle. Not the war. Not you."
She walked away. She didn't look back.
Keifer stood in the garden, the sun setting behind him, the flowers blooming at his feet.
"I'm not going to hurt her," he said. To himself. To the empty garden. To the woman who was already gone.
---
Jay was in her room when Freya found her.
She was standing by the window, the pearls in her hand, her face turned toward the garden. She had seen Keifer there. She had seen Freya walk to him. She had seen them stand together, close, the way two people stand when they are saying something that matters.
Freya stood beside her. Her arms were crossed. Her face was calm.
"I talked to him," Freya said.
Jay didn't turn. "I saw."
"I told him I would kill him if he hurt you."
Jay closed her eyes. "Freya."
"I meant it."
Jay turned. Her friend was standing in the light, her face hard, her eyes soft.
"You don't have to protect me," Jay said.
"I know."
"You don't have to threaten him."
"I know."
"You don't have to—"
Freya stepped forward. She took Jay's hands. Her grip was strong. Her hands were warm.
"I know you signed a contract," Freya said. "I know you have two years. I know you think you're going to leave."
Jay's throat tightened.
"But I've been watching you," Freya said. "I've been watching you for years. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him."
Jay didn't speak.
"I've never seen you let anyone in. Not me. Not Rakki. Not Ella. Not anyone." Freya's voice cracked. "And you let him in. You let him in before you knew what was happening. You let him in before you signed the contract. You let him in before you had a plan to leave."
She squeezed Jay's hands.
"I'm not going to kill him," Freya said. "I'm going to make sure he stays."
Jay looked at her. Her best friend. Her sister. The woman who had been with her through everything.
"What if he doesn't want to stay?" Jay asked.
Freya smiled. It was small. Sad. Real.
"Then I'll kill him," she said.
Jay laughed. It was a surprised sound, something that escaped before she could stop it. Freya was laughing too. They stood in the light, holding hands, the pearls forgotten on the bed, the dress forgotten on the door.
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END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE