Chapter 5

The key turned in the lock with a familiar, grating sound. When Finley pushed the door open, the scene in the living room was exactly as she'd pictured. A tribunal.

Dozier was in his worn-out armchair, the throne from which he ruled their small, miserable kingdom. Her mother, Sharon, was perched on the edge of the sofa, wringing her hands. Her half-sister, Kaylee, sixteen and already fluent in her father's brand of casual cruelty, was slouched in a chair, scrolling on her phone with a bored expression.

And Shane. Her stepbrother stood by the fireplace, a smug, proprietary look on his face.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Dozier said, his voice dripping with false bonhomie.

Finley ignored him. She kept her eyes fixed on the hallway that led to her bedroom. "I'm here for my things."

Shane pushed himself off the mantelpiece and moved to block her path. He smelled of stale beer and cheap cologne. "Come on, Finley. Don't be like this. What's so bad about marrying me? You'd be the queen of the castle."

His eyes roamed over her, and a wave of nausea rolled through her. She sidestepped him, her skin crawling. "Don't touch me."

"That's enough!" Dozier's voice boomed, and he slammed a hand down on the arm of his chair. "Is that any way to talk to your future husband?"

This was it. The point of no return.

Finley turned, her back straight, her chin high. She reached into her purse, her fingers closing around the folded piece of paper. She pulled it out and threw it onto the coffee table in the center of the room. It landed with a soft, insignificant flutter.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," she said, her voice clear and steady. "I'm already married."

Silence.

A thick, shocked silence filled the room. Sharon's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief. Kaylee actually looked up from her phone, a flicker of interest on her face.

Shane was the first to move. He snatched the paper from the table, his brow furrowed as he unfolded it. He stared at it for a second, and then a loud, braying laugh erupted from him.

"A marriage certificate? Seriously, Finley?" he scoffed, waving the paper in the air. "You forged a government document to get out of marrying me? That's pathetic, even for you."

Dozier grabbed it from him. He squinted at the names. "Garrison Strickland." He mumbled the name, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that he couldn't quite place. But then he saw the date. Today's date. His face hardened with contempt.

"Do you think we're idiots?" he spat, tossing the certificate back onto the table as if it were garbage. "You met some guy and married him on the same day? Who'd you hire to play the part? Some actor you met on the street?"

Finley's heart sank. She had expected them to be angry. She hadn't expected them to be so certain it was a lie.

"It's real," she insisted, her voice wavering for the first time. "We registered at City Hall this afternoon. It's legally binding."

"Finley, how could you?" Sharon's voice was a horrified whisper, but the undertone was pure accusation. "Lying to us like this? Making things worse? You apologize to your father and Shane right now."

The betrayal was so complete, so absolute, it stole the air from Finley's lungs. She looked at her mother, at this woman who was supposed to protect her, and felt nothing but a vast, empty canyon of disappointment.

There was no point in arguing. Words meant nothing in this house.

"I'm getting my things," she said, her voice flat. She turned toward her room again.

Dozier's voice was like a whip crack. "You're not going anywhere." His eyes were hard, glinting with a new, vicious idea. "If you won't do this the easy way, we'll do it the hard way. Shane."

He gave his son a look. A silent, ugly command.

Shane understood. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face as he once again moved to block Finley's path.

Finley backed away, her heart starting to hammer in thick, painful beats. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson," Dozier said, his voice cold as ice. "Showing you who your husband is. Shane, take her to her room. Help her understand."

The meaning was unmistakable. Brutal. Final. They were going to have him force himself on her. To trap her. To break her.

Her blood ran cold. She looked around the room in a blind panic. Her mother was staring at the floor, her shoulders shaking. Kaylee was watching, a look of avid curiosity on her face. No one would help her.

"Come on, little sister," Shane crooned, taking a step toward her. "Don't fight it. I'll be nice."

She backed up until her shoulders hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go. He was getting closer, his hands reaching for her.

Desperation gave her a final surge of adrenaline. Her hand shot into her purse, fumbling for her phone. It was the only thing she had left.

Her fingers, slick with sweat, slid across the screen. She found the contact. The name she had saved just hours ago.

Husband.

She pressed the call button and jammed the phone against her ear, praying, praying, praying he would answer.

The line clicked. It was ringing.

And then, it was answered.

"Finley?" Garrison's calm, steady voice was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.