Page 99 of Before Eve
“Whatever.”
“I’ll have eyes and ears on you the entire time.”
“Understood.”
“One wrong move and—”
“I said I understand.”
He holds a finger up in warning. It does not affect me.
“Remember you’ve had Lyme disease. You’ll need to look fragile. Also, Amelia’s joining us.”
“Amelia?”
“The woman I’ve been dating. She has a cute little girl who just turned six.”
I put the apple back onto the plate. “I won’t let you hurt either one of them.”
“Oh, dear daughter, the things you are going to learn.” He leaves, locking the door behind him.
The things I’m going to learn.
I don’t know what that means, and I refuse to let him get inside my head. Instead, a smirk creeps in. Yes, fear is an interesting thing. I used to be a shell of myself, but I have emerged. I have a plan, and now I just need to execute it.
On Sunday, I arrive at church to make my “public appearance.” I sit beside Grayson in the front row in our usual spots. His widowed girlfriend, Amelia, and her young daughter join us. Other than respectfully shaking my hand and officially meeting me, neither of them says a word to me, or looks at me.
Through the side of my eye, I study the six-year-old. From her proper posture to her careful courtesy to her submissive nature, I recognize myself in her. It makes my stomach sour.
Though I haven’t turned to see, I expect Brynn and her family behind me in their usual spots.
I feel more than see every eye on our row. Now that Grayson’s announced his plans to run for the highest office in the nation, we are under even more scrutiny.
The ornate and conservative church is at capacity. Organ music fills the air as the worship service begins. There’s a greeting, followed by a prayer, then announcements.
I wait patiently.
The first song begins, and I follow along, mouthing the words. Soon, the song ends, and the minister has us greet each other. Knowing Grayson can’t do a thing, I turn, coming face-to-face with Brynn for the first time in nearly five months.
Her cheeks lift with joy as she reaches for me. We hug tightly, briefly, then we release. I clasp her hands, smiling back, showing her all of the love in my heart that I carry for her.
“I love your hair,” she whispers.
“Thank you,” I whisper back.
All too soon, the contact is over. I greet the other people around me. So does Grayson.
I turn back around, and a small smile creases my lips. I just slid Brynn a note, and she will come through with what I requested.
I don’t hear a word of the sermon. Instead, I focus on the upcoming weeks I’ll need to endure.
But after that, I will be free, and the whole world will know who Grayson is.
I spend the next week still locked away in my room. Grayson visits daily, eager to see if he’s broken me. He hasn’t. I will not be broken. I refuse it.
Yesterday, he sat for nearly an hour simply studying me with a dark and calculating assessment as if planning something. Though I don’t know what.
Today he arrives with a short and bald, heavyset man that I’ve never seen. The man doesn’t even look at me as he brings in a folded table that he sets up. It’s a long one with padding like someone would use for a massage.
