your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

forty seven

"Explain, then."

He smiles at me, tilting his head to the side. "You're a bit sassy today, hm?"

"Aiden, get on with it," I say, probing his point right. "Brad's going to be outside the room stressing his ass off." I don't want to imagine how anxious he is to know what Aiden is going to tell me now.

"Alright," he nods, sipping his drink for good measure. I find myself doing the same thing. "Basically, there's been some. . . developments recently in the gang."

He pauses. I raise an eyebrow. "You're gonna have to tell me more than that—I don't speak 'gang leader'."

"So there's a gang that's just outside of Scotland and it's got some good money on them," Aiden says. I frown. Why has this got anything to do with me? "And the leader wants to take over my spot, but there's two ways to do that. One, is to kill me."

I tense. As much as I'm still getting used to Aiden being in my life again, I'm relieved he's alive and healthy. I definitely don't want him dead.

"That's obviously not going to happen, they're not nearly as big," Aiden chuckles. "So you're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

I frown at him. "I didn't want to, Aiden. Don't say that." He smiles softly back at me. "Anyway, what's the the second way?"

"To marry the leader," he says. "And he said his eldest daughter is perfect for me. Except, I don't want to marry her or someone else to rule the gang. That means everything changes, everything I've built us up to be, the morals we have."

"Why does this matter to me?"

"Well, since one is ruled off," he says. "That leaves me marrying them into the gang, which I don't want to do. Why would I marry some random girl I've never even met? Makes no sense to me."

I raise my eyebrows, crossing my arms, silently telling him to get to the point.

"The only way to get out of a stupid arranged marriage is to be engaged and marry someone else," he explains. "And currently I have no one to be my other half."

I purse my lips, my eyes flickering to the closed door. I wonder how Brad is right now—I bet he's so stressed.

He digs into his pocket for a moment, grabbing my attention, before he steps forward in front of me. "And I thought about how the hell I was going to get out of this, and then I realise I'm gonna have to have a fiancé by Friday. I ask myself, who would be perfect to have by my side until I die?"

He sets the beer bottle on the side and opens up my empty hand, before placing his other fist in the middle of my palm.

"And I know we still need to build up our friendship again," he says. "But I want you to do the honour of taking my hand in marriage."

He opens his fist and I feel a ring drop in my palm. My heart was beating wildly in my chest as I stare at him in disbelief. Is he serious right now? He closes up my hand around the ring.

I blink, staring at him for a moment before raising my other hand and swiping it across his cheek.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I snap. "You end up in my life after leaving me without a damned goodbye and ask me to ruin my life so that you can be this all-mighty gang leader? I'm not fucking marrying you, you piece of shit."

I slam my other hand on the side, dropping down the ring and pushing myself off the counter. I felt sick that he was so serious about that.

I make my way to the door, my face burning from how red I was going. I was fuming and I needed some fresh air to cool down.