Chapter 1 - THREE KNOCKS
Gregory locked the door while I was still wearing my veil.
I heard the electronic deadbolt engage behind him.
Then he picked up the bat.
For one absurd second, my brain tried to explain it as a joke.
A wedding-night stunt.
Something one of his cousins had planned.
Then Gregory raised it with both hands.
“This is how my family domesticates our women.”
I backed toward the bed.
My bouquet shook in my fingers.
White roses.
Eucalyptus.
A satin ribbon embroidered with our wedding date.
Six hours earlier, Gregory had stood beneath an arch of pine branches and promised to honor me.
Now he was barefoot from the waist up, his dress shirt lying near the bed, wedding ring catching the cabin light while he advanced with a baseball bat.
“Gregory.”
He smiled.
“Don’t make it worse.”
That sentence cured me of confusion.
I dropped the bouquet.
Cracked my knuckles.
And looked at his stance.
Too much weight on his rear leg.
Hands high.
Elbows wide.
No training beyond believing a weapon made him powerful.
“You should have read the military section of my résumé.”
His smile faltered.
I had served six years in the Army Military Police Corps.
Not special forces.
Not some movie assassin.
But I had spent enough hours learning defensive tactics to know what an untrained swing looked like.
Gregory swung toward my ribs.
I moved.
The bat passed my body.
I trapped his arm.
Turned through his center.
Used his momentum instead of fighting his strength.
He shouted.
The bat came free.
Gregory hit the carpet beside the bed.
I stepped back immediately.
No unnecessary strike.
No revenge.
Weapon controlled.
Distance.
Exit.
Except the exit was locked.
Gregory pushed himself up.
“Stay down.”
He froze.
My voice surprised both of us.
He crawled toward the door anyway.
I planted the heel of my bridal shoe against his shoulder.
Not his neck.
Not his spine.
Enough to keep him from lunging.
“You have no idea what my family will do to you.”
He was breathing hard now.
The arrogance had changed shape.
Still hatred.
Now panic beneath it.
Then something scraped across the hardwood.
A keycard slid beneath the cabin door.
Gregory saw it.
And smiled.
Three knocks followed.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
I looked at the card.
Then at Gregory.
His smile widened despite the position he was in.
Someone outside knew the door was locked.
Someone outside expected Gregory to need another key.
Someone outside was waiting for this.
I tightened my grip on the bat.
“Who is standing outside that door?”
Silence.
Then the electronic lock clicked once.
Not open.
Testing.
My breathing slowed.
The cabin had one main door.
Two windows beside the fireplace.
A glass balcony door behind heavy curtains.
Second floor above a steep wooded slope.
No obvious safe exit in heels and a wedding dress.
Gregory whispered:
“You should put the bat down.”
“Why?”
Another click.
“Because they’ll understand what happened.”
“I understand what happened.”
“You don’t.”
The lock clicked again.
Then a woman’s voice came faintly through the wood.
“Ashlynn.”
Not enough for me to identify.
Not yet.
“You need to calm down.”
I looked at Gregory.
He looked relieved.
That frightened me more than the bat had.
I backed away from him.
Kept the weapon.
May you like
Kept the door in view.
And waited for whoever had come to explain why my husband’s family expected my wedding night to end behind a locked door.
