Phantom Rider - The Reckoning | Book 2

#63 | Freedom

Her eyes brimmed with tears, her face etched with fear. Bill kept dragging her until they were far enough from the commotion, then abruptly let her go. He shoved her into what was now "their" room and locked the door behind them. She leaned against the wall, hands clutching her neck.

"Let me see," he said, stepping closer. Gently, he took her hands away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you this much." His fingers traced the red marks on her neck with a tenderness that almost felt out of place.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, shoving his hand away. "You choked me!"

"Baby, I had to..." His voice wavered slightly. "I had to be the bad guy so they'd leave you alone. I'm sorry."

"You don't make sense," she whispered, though she didn't pull away as he moved closer.

"I make perfect sense," he countered, his voice firm. "I'm the kidnapper now, instead of you being the runaway bride." He cupped her face, his touch both possessive and comforting. "You don't have to think about it anymore. No one will blame you. They'll all focus on me. You can finally breathe, just for a second."

"Bill..." Her voice cracked as she clung to him, looking up. "But it's too late. I'm his wife now."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he steadied her. Then, his hand slid to her cheek, caressing it with an unsettling calm.

"Since when you having a husband had ever been my problem?" His voice grew deeper, more commanding. "You're mine. Take that damned ring off your finger. Now."

Mila hesitated, her hand instinctively clenching into a fist around the ring. Bill didn't wait for her decision. He grabbed her hand firmly and slid the ring off, ignoring her weak resistance, before tossing it onto the floor with finality.

"I'll do this as many times as it takes," he said, his gaze locking onto hers. "You could marry every man on this planet, but I'll always come after you and take those rings off. You know I'm the only one who can set you free."

She didn't respond, but her fingers tentatively intertwined with his. He was right, and she hated how much she loved him for it.

"Now, hold onto that pretty dress, because we're about to run. Take the gun."

"Bill, I can't... run." she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Hush, baby." He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I'm in charge now."

Unlocking the door, he gestured for her to move. She hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot.

"Damn it, honey, you're going to have to run! Don't make me carry you—we'll both get killed!" he snapped.

Almost hypnotized, she gripped the fabric of her dress and stumbled after him. The ruffles tangled around her legs, nearly causing her to fall. Bill stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he noticed her struggle.

"Shit," he muttered, stepping back. He grabbed the hem of her dress and ripped away the ruffles, leaving her in the simpler under-slip beneath. Yanking off her shoes, he tossed them aside. "There, Cinderella. Now move!"

With no more excuses, Mila followed him, barefoot and bewildered, clutching the gun he'd forced into her hand. They burst through the doors into the cool evening air, sprinting across the manicured lawn.

Police sirens wailed in the distance. A small crowd had gathered outside, but no one had time to react as Bill—dressed all in black, his long coat billowing behind him like a dark avenger—ran alongside Mila, half-dressed and disheveled, looking like a bride fleeing the apocalypse.

"Runaway bride! You two are priceless!" Tom's voice rang out. Mila saw his sleek black car, its engine already revving, as it smashed through the wrought-iron gates.

"Jump in!"

Gunfire erupted. Mila froze, her breath catching in her throat. Before she could process what was happening, Bill shoved her into the backseat.

As she scrambled inside, she turned to see Bill firing back at police officers. Moments later, he slid into the seat beside her, slamming the door shut.

Tom laughed hysterically, gripping the wheel as the car swerved wildly down the driveway. Mila sat in the backseat, clutching the gun and struggling to catch her breath.

As the car screeched down the winding country roads, Mila felt the adrenaline begin to ebb, leaving behind a jittery unease. She couldn't keep her eyes off Bill. There was something different about him tonight - something raw, something terrifyingly real. She suddenly swung and hit his shoulder.

"What the hell?" He finally snapped out of his thoughts.

"I waited for you!" she accused him.

"And I arrived for you!" he snapped back.

"Too late! You always arrive too late!" She still huffed like a spoiled kid.

"Listen, princess! You should be happy that we are here, after all these times you sent me to burn in hell..." he sounded almost angry.

"I am sorry..." she dropped her cockiness right away. "I really waited for you."

"And I am here" he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled into his chest as close as she could. 

"I love you." She mumbled in his chest.