Page 46 of Deliverance

I shrug my shoulders. “I do, probably because I’m dignified as fuck.”

A laugh escapes Bridgette. A sound that is quickly becoming one of my favorites.

“You’re too much, Bartlett.”

The bartender hands us our drinks, and I drop a tip in the jar for him before we step away. Lowering my voice, I walk behind her and lean into her ear.

“Too much or not enough?”

She smirks at me as she looks over her shoulder.

“Both.”

I grin at that as we make our way through the party. Hundreds of people are scattered all around, dressed to the nines, dripping in diamonds and crisp black tuxes and suits. It’s one big obnoxious cattle show where everyone attempts to gain some kind of status points based on their appearance here tonight. Or any night that the Elders are present, really.

As if this was the Oscars, Christopher Putnam appears at the top of his staircase, staring down at everyone. Just his presence in the room has the mundane chatter and shmoozing stopping on a dime as all eyes turn to him. A hush settles over the room as the string quartet in the corner gently fades their music until it’s silent.

“My brothers, welcome. It is my great honor and privilege to welcome you into my home in celebration of our anniversary. Three hundred and thirty-two years ago, our forefathers came together for one goal. In an effort to defeat a common enemy and protect the good folks of Salem and this country, a society was born. For three hundred and thirty-two years, we have lived in honor of those brave men who took a stand, who built protection and took measures to prevent evil from taking hold of our beloved town once more. Today, we honor them. Their bravery, sacrifice and loyalty. To the Brethren,” he says, lifting a dark colored drink in the air.

Everyone raises their glass, including Bridgette and I, as we echo his words.

“To the Brethren.”

Christopher nods at that, and the music begins again as chatter quietly picks up. I watch as Christopher makes his way down the stairs, shaking hands with his bond brother, Henry Parris. Rumor has it his daughter is coming to the States to start at Gallows Hill University. Everyone is talking about it and what it will mean. There hasn’t been a female born into any of the Elder families since 1693. Ever. The closest thing is Jeremy Stroughton’s half-sister, Angela, though since she came from his mother’s affair, she definitely doesn’t count. I’m honestly surprised his father keeps her around. He was all too eager to get rid of Jeremy’s mom as soon as he found out she was fucking around on him. Despite everyone telling us it was an unfortunate accident, we all know she didn’t go through that window by herself.

In the next moment, Bridgette and I are flanked by two of her bitchy friends. Mercy Lewis and Angela Stroughton. They are both wearing designer gowns and heels that look like they pinch their feet in the worst way. Subtly, Bridgette takes half of a step away from me. I pretend I don’t notice, but I do, and the twisting that occurs in my stomach because of it makes me clench my drink in anger.

“Bridgette, we weren’t sure we would see you here,” Mercy says.

She frowns at that. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just that you’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. We weren’t sure what was happening since you never return our texts,” Angela says.

Bridgette shrugs. “I’ve been busy.”

“Slumming it with your newsister,” Mercy guesses, putting a nasty emphasis on sister.

I give her a bored look and shake my head.

“Mercy, if you want me to lick your pussy, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

A look of horror passes across her face, and I swear to god, she clutches her nonexistent pearls.

“That’s disgusting!” she sputters. “In your dreams!”

“Typically, my dreams don’t involve going down on passed around slop. You’re not wrong on the disgusting part, though. I thought it was just the cheese appetizers being passed around, but…” I pause, wrinkling my nose in revulsion. “You should probably get that looked into,” I say as I gesture to her pussy before walking off.

I catch Bridgette’s eyes as she attempts and fails to hold in her laughter. Meanwhile, Angela and Mercy are shell-shocked, staring as I walk off towards the bathrooms. I don’t actually have to go; I just don’t want to be around those bitches. I’m not sure why Bridgette chose them, of all people, to surround herself with. Maybe because they are good yes men, or maybe because she never tried to have decent friends. I don’t really know, but I’ve gotten to know Bridgette, inside and out, and she deserves better people in her corner.

Before I’m able to make it to the bathroom, my mother calls out to me, urging me to come over. Stifling my internal groan, I paste on a smile and make my way over to her and Harry. Beside them is another older couple and a guy who looks to be a few years older than me.

“Here she is.” My mother beams proudly, like she’s ever been proud of me a day in her goddamn life. “Margret, this is Nicholas Reynolds, a business partner of Harry’s.”

I nod and shake the older man’s hand.

“This is his wife Bethany and their sonMiles,” my mother continues, putting an emphasis on Miles’ name.

I nod politely as I shake hands with Bethany before coming to Miles. He stares at me like I’m his favorite kind of dessert, all packaged and ready to be served to him.

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