Page 39
Story: Finding Fate
"I hate that fucking thing."
"What?" I sigh and rub my head. He's... confusing.
"The veil. I can't tell if you're joking or not. Confusing as hell."
"It's my protection."
"From...?" He moves across his small area and leans against the dividing wall, looking down to me.
"Everything," I whisper and angle my head up. My breath catches as I peer into those intense brown eyes, an excited shiver racing down my spine. "From the men. From them learning the truth. From the world."
His dark brows furrow, eyes narrowed. "Take it off."
"What?"
"Take it off. You're not hiding from me. I know who you are. I know what you’re doing here. You don't need to hide anything from me. When we're in here, take it off."
Take it off. Right. Show this guy who's still sexy as hell with his face bashed in my nine-day dirty hair. My sweaty, dirty face. Right. No thanks.
My lack of reply must speak volumes of my self-conscious thoughts. His features soften, and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. "Seriously. Don't worry about how you look. I won’t judge."
Shocked, I lean back. "How did you—"
"Four younger sisters, Pops. Four. I know more about women than you probably do."
Wait. For some reason that makes yesterday’s comment click.
"Yesterday... or last night, whenever, you... you quoted Pretty Woman, when Julia Roberts gets into the Lotus with Richard Gere."
"I've watched that movie more times than any man ever should. Not only did I have to sit through it every damn time it was on TV growing up, but now my niece loves it too. Which I have to admit is concerning. I'm afraid she's legit considering streetwalking as a future career choice."
"How old are you?" He mentioned he’s a Millennial, but a niece old enough to watch that movie....
"Thirty. My niece is twelve. Liza had her in high school, if that's where you're going with that question. It was a shock to the family." He laughs and smiles at the ceiling. "But we all pitched in. And damn if that little thing isn't the only person who keeps me sane most days."
"Wow, so your whole life—"
"Has been surrounded by swinging hormones, avoiding the house altogether one week a month with my father, and a lot, and I mean a lot, of talking. And I can quote any chick flick created. But I wouldn't change a damn thing. They’re family, you know. Crazy and bossy as hell."
Beneath my veil, my smile falls and I chew on the inside of my cheek. It sounds amazing, like a real family who supports each other and sticks together. My eyes close as I imagine what big family holidays would be like, birthdays—hell, even a summer break where you could actually have fun and not work or take care of someone else.
"Hey—" he starts, but the creaking of metal cuts him off. Both our attention snaps to my door. But it isn't mine that swings open with two smiling men stepping through.
Frightened, I press against the dividing wall, trying to shrink the distance between us.
"No worries, Pops. Go to the opposite side and do whatever the fuck you need to do to drown this out," he commands, keeping his attention on the two men prowling closer. "Now, dammit," he nearly growls, then shoves off the wood, propelling himself toward the men.
For his sake, and a little bit of mine too, I do as I'm told.
Even with my palms suctioned to my ears, the shouting and sounds filter through. It's only when my door swings open, a block of early afternoon sun stretching to my feet, that I move my hands. The man holding the door motions outside. Chore time, it seems.
I stand and dust off the thin layer of loose dirt to give myself a half second to glimpse through the gaps in the slats. Just like the first time he was tossed in the small cage, he's on his side, facing the opposite way, arms and legs stretched out. Not moving.
**
"HEY, POPPY? YOU OKAY?" a deep voice whispers through the dark. With the moon hidden behind the dark clouds tonight, the night drapes everything in never-ending darkness. Not even the light from the fires offers any help.
His tone sounds concerned, but still I lie here in the same spot where I collapsed out of pure exhaustion a few hours earlier. So exhausted I didn't even check on him when they tossed me back in here.
"What?" I sigh and rub my head. He's... confusing.
"The veil. I can't tell if you're joking or not. Confusing as hell."
"It's my protection."
"From...?" He moves across his small area and leans against the dividing wall, looking down to me.
"Everything," I whisper and angle my head up. My breath catches as I peer into those intense brown eyes, an excited shiver racing down my spine. "From the men. From them learning the truth. From the world."
His dark brows furrow, eyes narrowed. "Take it off."
"What?"
"Take it off. You're not hiding from me. I know who you are. I know what you’re doing here. You don't need to hide anything from me. When we're in here, take it off."
Take it off. Right. Show this guy who's still sexy as hell with his face bashed in my nine-day dirty hair. My sweaty, dirty face. Right. No thanks.
My lack of reply must speak volumes of my self-conscious thoughts. His features soften, and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. "Seriously. Don't worry about how you look. I won’t judge."
Shocked, I lean back. "How did you—"
"Four younger sisters, Pops. Four. I know more about women than you probably do."
Wait. For some reason that makes yesterday’s comment click.
"Yesterday... or last night, whenever, you... you quoted Pretty Woman, when Julia Roberts gets into the Lotus with Richard Gere."
"I've watched that movie more times than any man ever should. Not only did I have to sit through it every damn time it was on TV growing up, but now my niece loves it too. Which I have to admit is concerning. I'm afraid she's legit considering streetwalking as a future career choice."
"How old are you?" He mentioned he’s a Millennial, but a niece old enough to watch that movie....
"Thirty. My niece is twelve. Liza had her in high school, if that's where you're going with that question. It was a shock to the family." He laughs and smiles at the ceiling. "But we all pitched in. And damn if that little thing isn't the only person who keeps me sane most days."
"Wow, so your whole life—"
"Has been surrounded by swinging hormones, avoiding the house altogether one week a month with my father, and a lot, and I mean a lot, of talking. And I can quote any chick flick created. But I wouldn't change a damn thing. They’re family, you know. Crazy and bossy as hell."
Beneath my veil, my smile falls and I chew on the inside of my cheek. It sounds amazing, like a real family who supports each other and sticks together. My eyes close as I imagine what big family holidays would be like, birthdays—hell, even a summer break where you could actually have fun and not work or take care of someone else.
"Hey—" he starts, but the creaking of metal cuts him off. Both our attention snaps to my door. But it isn't mine that swings open with two smiling men stepping through.
Frightened, I press against the dividing wall, trying to shrink the distance between us.
"No worries, Pops. Go to the opposite side and do whatever the fuck you need to do to drown this out," he commands, keeping his attention on the two men prowling closer. "Now, dammit," he nearly growls, then shoves off the wood, propelling himself toward the men.
For his sake, and a little bit of mine too, I do as I'm told.
Even with my palms suctioned to my ears, the shouting and sounds filter through. It's only when my door swings open, a block of early afternoon sun stretching to my feet, that I move my hands. The man holding the door motions outside. Chore time, it seems.
I stand and dust off the thin layer of loose dirt to give myself a half second to glimpse through the gaps in the slats. Just like the first time he was tossed in the small cage, he's on his side, facing the opposite way, arms and legs stretched out. Not moving.
**
"HEY, POPPY? YOU OKAY?" a deep voice whispers through the dark. With the moon hidden behind the dark clouds tonight, the night drapes everything in never-ending darkness. Not even the light from the fires offers any help.
His tone sounds concerned, but still I lie here in the same spot where I collapsed out of pure exhaustion a few hours earlier. So exhausted I didn't even check on him when they tossed me back in here.
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