Page 32 of Play Dirty
She nods.
“Why?”
She shrugs. “Not sure, she didn’t say. Then this happened, and I feel guilty. Maybe it was nothing, but fuck, this is just so strange.”
Her words reassure me; my suspicions weren’t misplaced. Michaela doesn’t wait for a response, quickly she dismisses herselfand leaves me standing with the weight of her words. As I look down at the small garden and its new addition.
The glow in the dark pebbled driveway that June insisted it needed, so the fairies could always find their way back home. I crouch before it and whisper. “You finally got the driveway, and as always, you were right.”
The small cluster of mushroom huts is now connected. Three small intersections of small pebbles formed a little driveway into the small patch of grass. I sit in silence for a bit, when the sound of branches crunching catches my attention, and a cold draft kisses the back of my neck.
Am I being watched?
My phone buzzes inside the pocket of my blazer. Rising to my feet, I turn around as my hand moves to the scanner that unlocks my door. There’s something in the distance, hiding in the darkness.
Maybe I’m tripping or just tired.
But the feeling is unwavering– even when the door signalsopen and the handle twists with my movement. The sensation of being watched is overwhelming. My stomach is in shambles, feeling the butterflies do somersaults instead of dance within me. My hands are clammy as I slam the door shut.
Looking down at my phone, I read the notification.
I chuck my phone on the couch, turning to the window. I am unable to resist the compulsion to peek outside. I look– everything appears the same. The dark path looks the same as it’s always been. Feeling satisfiedwith my findings, I resume what I came home to do. I don’t want to be here.
Not when it still smells like her.
Not when all her things are still the same way she left them.
Not when I have to allow myself to be devoured in order to find the truth and deliver justice.
My body drags towards the bathroom, prepping myself just how he likes it. Clean-shaven, exfoliated, and smelling like his favorite body wash. The same vanilla scent that twists my stomach and made me hate the one thing I enjoyed the most. Stepping out of the shower, I spray the body mist that matches the body wash— drying off my body and inspecting myself in the mirror.
Purple fading marks on my ribs, under my breast. My finger traces over the small scar over my hip, his mark. Closing my eyes, I shake off the memory of that night— how I screamed for my father as he held me down and burned my skin with his brand. Only when I’m married will it be allowed to be removed…
A rebrand.
Bile climbs up my throat at the thought of Asher seeing this ugly scar- maybe this is why he treats me like an option instead of his wife. Yet he allowed it.
He allowed it.
Not my father.
Not my mother.
But the man intended to be my husband. My body shivers as I feel the weight of his arms wrap around me, his breath smelling of brandy and cigars. My body is soaking wet from the pool, “Babe. Ready for your test?”
“Test?” He smiles, exposing the dimple on his cheek, pointing into the room. He cups my breast, slipping his hand inside my braand twirling my nipple. Warmth starts to spread, but it’s quickly put out at the sight of him.
I swallow hard—not quite understanding..
I didn’t understand… I just obeyed.
My body moves on its own accord as I leave my dorm, climb into the car that he always sends for me, and the same sinking feeling consumes me. It never changes, not even being away with him in Italy, made my body react to him.
Unless it’s repulsion or disgust.
“Darling,” His deep voice calls from the studio as I approach, my hands clinging to the railing as if it could save me. Not even Daddy could save me. Squaring my shoulder, I take a deep breath in and hold my head straight. He can no longer scare me. Xavier tonight will be my pawn to use. I’m not the same scared little princess I once was, but a woman with a hunger for the truth.
Hunger for revenge.
