stupid."
The cold wind creeps across the carpet like the fog coming in. I jump up and run for my bed but the wind covers me with a chill before I get there.
" DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER!"
I jump on my bed and pull the covers up. I lie there clutching Bunny as the wind circles above me like a tornado, chanting.
I wish he would come back. I need him. I know I need him. I love him. I think I do.
Chapter Seven
The adult party is ending and my nerves are alive and electrified. I sip my champagne and wait. Every time I get a chance to glance out the window or through the doorway, I do. I'm terrified he ain't gonna come. The fear wrestles inside of me like pigs under a blanket. Martin has cornered me several times. The look in his eyes is uglier than homemade sin. He is feisty and tired of my fighting his touches.
I glance down at the huge sparkly ring on my wedding finger. The ring he put on my finger in front of everyone. The one that says I'm either gonna give him everything or he's gonna take. The ring says he's allowed. I'm his property.
My daddy looks me in the eye and winks. I frown at him and look at my drink. I can't be brave and wear the face I should, not when I don’t know if Whit's coming or not.
My dress is strapless, teal-green and tight. I was gonna wear the outfit my momma picked out for me but it looked too hot. Instead, I chose the short cocktail dress as my last act of defiance, before I wouldn’t be under her roof and control. My whole plan is dependent upon Whit's arrival. I sip from my flute and wander about.
The anxiety I'm feeling is making even my drink taste foul.
People hug me and shake my hand. Old men leer at me in my dress. The thick material makes a bunched belt that accentuates my hips and breasts.
To the other women in the room, I'm the luckiest girl in all the South.
The night is hot and humid and I'm grateful I made the choice I did. The other dress woulda killed me by now, as would the pencil skirt she had also mentioned. At least this dress is short enough that I can move my legs freely. I'm fanning myself and watching everyone be excited about the man I snagged. It's like the whole town is excited; a local girl snagged herself a Kennedy.
Angie is the only one who looks sick and worried. Her eyes glow with moisture several times. I can see the devastation on her face.
Martin grabs my hand and drags me over to make a toast with him. He thanks the crowd of people and toasts me. I want to stab him in the eye when he calls me his sweetheart. But I smile, just like I was taught to. I am good at behaving the way I was taught to.
He excuses us youngsters and thanks my family for a wonderful night. He takes my hand and leads me out to the garden path.
The jazz band is starting up. I have slipped them a list of songs my momma would never approve of. Songs to make people sway and dance and grind up against each other.
The caterers and servants are everywhere with trays of rock glasses and flutes. Men are starting to gather to one side and ladies are milling about, waiting to be asked to dance.
Angie stands behind Martin and waves me over. I look at her but Martin holds my hand firmer and pulls me to the dance floor. He shoots a rock glass of bourbon and pulls me into him. He holds the glass out and someone comes and takes it.
I hate him. He can't even hand off a glass without seeming like an asshole.
He grins under the light of the torches and I feel sick. His touch makes me nauseous.
The huge columns and overhanging bushes make the rose garden seem ancient and mysterious. It's like we are behind a hidden veil to a world where anything is possible. The Louisiana magic floats in the air like fairy dust. The moon is high and the torches are perfect. The dance floor ain't too lit. It ain't so bright you would be able to notice the small details, like someone rubbing up against someone they shouldn’t be.
I feel like I'm gonna be ill. My anxiety levels are through the roof.
The cold wind creeps across the carpet like the fog coming in. I jump up and run for my bed but the wind covers me with a chill before I get there.
" DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER!"
I jump on my bed and pull the covers up. I lie there clutching Bunny as the wind circles above me like a tornado, chanting.
I wish he would come back. I need him. I know I need him. I love him. I think I do.
Chapter Seven
The adult party is ending and my nerves are alive and electrified. I sip my champagne and wait. Every time I get a chance to glance out the window or through the doorway, I do. I'm terrified he ain't gonna come. The fear wrestles inside of me like pigs under a blanket. Martin has cornered me several times. The look in his eyes is uglier than homemade sin. He is feisty and tired of my fighting his touches.
I glance down at the huge sparkly ring on my wedding finger. The ring he put on my finger in front of everyone. The one that says I'm either gonna give him everything or he's gonna take. The ring says he's allowed. I'm his property.
My daddy looks me in the eye and winks. I frown at him and look at my drink. I can't be brave and wear the face I should, not when I don’t know if Whit's coming or not.
My dress is strapless, teal-green and tight. I was gonna wear the outfit my momma picked out for me but it looked too hot. Instead, I chose the short cocktail dress as my last act of defiance, before I wouldn’t be under her roof and control. My whole plan is dependent upon Whit's arrival. I sip from my flute and wander about.
The anxiety I'm feeling is making even my drink taste foul.
People hug me and shake my hand. Old men leer at me in my dress. The thick material makes a bunched belt that accentuates my hips and breasts.
To the other women in the room, I'm the luckiest girl in all the South.
The night is hot and humid and I'm grateful I made the choice I did. The other dress woulda killed me by now, as would the pencil skirt she had also mentioned. At least this dress is short enough that I can move my legs freely. I'm fanning myself and watching everyone be excited about the man I snagged. It's like the whole town is excited; a local girl snagged herself a Kennedy.
Angie is the only one who looks sick and worried. Her eyes glow with moisture several times. I can see the devastation on her face.
Martin grabs my hand and drags me over to make a toast with him. He thanks the crowd of people and toasts me. I want to stab him in the eye when he calls me his sweetheart. But I smile, just like I was taught to. I am good at behaving the way I was taught to.
He excuses us youngsters and thanks my family for a wonderful night. He takes my hand and leads me out to the garden path.
The jazz band is starting up. I have slipped them a list of songs my momma would never approve of. Songs to make people sway and dance and grind up against each other.
The caterers and servants are everywhere with trays of rock glasses and flutes. Men are starting to gather to one side and ladies are milling about, waiting to be asked to dance.
Angie stands behind Martin and waves me over. I look at her but Martin holds my hand firmer and pulls me to the dance floor. He shoots a rock glass of bourbon and pulls me into him. He holds the glass out and someone comes and takes it.
I hate him. He can't even hand off a glass without seeming like an asshole.
He grins under the light of the torches and I feel sick. His touch makes me nauseous.
The huge columns and overhanging bushes make the rose garden seem ancient and mysterious. It's like we are behind a hidden veil to a world where anything is possible. The Louisiana magic floats in the air like fairy dust. The moon is high and the torches are perfect. The dance floor ain't too lit. It ain't so bright you would be able to notice the small details, like someone rubbing up against someone they shouldn’t be.
I feel like I'm gonna be ill. My anxiety levels are through the roof.
Similar Books
