Chapter 2 - You Should Have Read My Résumé
But tonight, on the ship, there was no apology waiting yet.
Only the bat.
Gregory took one measured step toward me.
“You made me look weak at dinner,” he said.
I kept my voice level.
“I ordered my own meal.”
“You corrected me in front of the waiter.”
“You ordered for me without asking.”
“You’re my wife.”
The word wife sounded different in his mouth now.
Not partner.
Not beloved.
Not equal.
Possession.
He moved closer.
The bat lifted.
My breathing slowed.
My feet shifted beneath the lace skirt.
Just enough.
Gregory’s eyes flicked down, but he did not understand what he was seeing.
He had known I was a Marine.
He had introduced me that way when it impressed people.
“My fiancée served.”
“My bride is tough.”
“She used to train Marines or something.”
Or something.
He never asked what that meant.
He never asked what kind of training.
He never asked why I could read a room before entering it, why I sat facing exits, why I disliked blocked doorways, why I stayed calm when drunk men got loud at charity events.
He liked the idea of my strength when it decorated him.
He did not imagine it might protect me from him.
Gregory began a slow horizontal swing.
Not full force.
A warning swing.
A teaching swing.
The kind of movement meant to show me what could happen if I did not learn quickly.
I stepped just outside the path, caught his wrist, and redirected the bat away from my body.
The movement was controlled.
Efficient.
Over before the rose petals on the bed finished shifting from the air.
His eyes widened.
I held his wrist just long enough for him to understand I could have done more.
Then I took the bat from his hand.
“You should have read my résumé,” I said.
His balance broke.
He dropped onto one knee beside the bed, one hand bracing against the carpet, staring up at me like the suite had changed languages.
The bat was now in my hand, pointed safely toward the floor.
Gregory swallowed.
The charming groom was gone.
The man beneath him had finally met a problem he could not smile through.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
I stepped backward, putting distance between us and positioning myself between him and the locked door.
“The woman you should never have threatened.”
For several seconds, the room held us there.
Warm lamps.
Rose petals.
Ocean darkness.
A bat in my lowered hand.
A groom on one knee, but not in proposal.
Gregory’s mouth tightened.
Then the next version of him arrived.
Soft voice.
Raised hands.
Regret rehearsed quickly.
“Ashlynn,” he said, “you misunderstood.”
I looked at the bat.
Then at him.
“I misunderstood that?”
“I was trying to scare you.”
“That doesn’t help you.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“You locked the door.”
He stood slowly.
“I wanted privacy.”
“You packed a weapon.”
“It’s sports equipment.”
“In your honeymoon luggage?”
His face flushed.
“I knew you’d twist this.”
There it was.
He had already written the defense before I finished surviving the threat.
I moved one step toward the door.
Gregory mirrored me.
“Do not open that door.”
I stopped.
“You are not giving orders anymore.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think one Marine trick makes you safe?”
His mask slipped.
May you like
Not fully.
Enough.
