Page 64
Story: Resist
“God, you scared me,” I said, placing my hand over my thumping heart.
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “We’ve got to go.”
“Now?”
“We’ve got a drive ahead of us and a long day tomorrow.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “Yeah, okay.” I looked at Edith. “I guess I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Mmhmm. Let the hell games begin.”
I laughed, thinking she was joking, but I guess that was my naivete. Because she was right—the hell games were indeed about to begin.
35: Dining with Mr. Hyde
The ride back was just as stiff as before, made more awkward by the moment we shared when I was on the brink of a full-fledged panic attack.
Stay with me, Mara.
His words—hisvoice—just kept reverberating through my mind, over and over again. And every time I thought I might turn to say something, I would see his body, rigid as stone, focused intently out his window. The words would hang on my tongue for a second, until I would close my mouth and look out my own window again. I just wasn’t sure where to go from here.
Once we were home, Smiley let me out of the car first. I bolted up the steps and raced back to my room, seeking solace. As it turned out, there was no safe haven there either. No sooner had I crossed the threshold of my door when a maid showed up, telling me Marissa fully expected me to have dinner in the dining room tonight. I was told to hurry—“chop, chop”—and get dressed for dinner because I was going to be late.
I hustled to shower and threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a pastel pink blouse that was actually quite flattering on me. Then I was out my door and off to the dining room. I had been at Castle Calvernon for several days, yet had only ever eaten in the dining room twice, both of which were insanely uncomfortable for me. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to eating there again.
Turning a corner, I came up to the dining room door, which gave way easily under the pressure of my hand. There, with their meals before them, were the Calvernons—their napkins in their laps, utensils still sitting neatly in their place—and all three of them turned to face me as I stepped into the room. My face grew hot as I realized they had been waiting for me to show up before taking so much as a lick of their food.Well crap…
“Um,” the sound fell off my lips flatly, “you could have started without me—”
“Nonsense,” Charles waved me off. “We were in no rush to begin.”
“Of course,” Marissa chimed in as she blinked softly—delicately—her eyes boring into me. “As a young lady of your stature should know, it is poor etiquette to eat when all are not present at the table.”
I blew out a breath.Shit.Yeah, I guess a ‘lady of my stature’wouldknow if she ever aterealfood! How was I supposed to know? And besides, it’s not like my family ever treated me like I counted at the table. I very well could have been the dog coming to swallow stupid nourishment pills.
“They don’t eat food, Mom.” Wes’s deep voice caught me by surprise, and I turned to face him.
“Well,” Marissa began, a smile coming to her lips, “maybe if she dined with us more often, she would learn.” Wes threw her a haughty stare, but she was too focused on me to even notice.
“Yes, well,” Charles interjected, “why don’t you sit down, Mara. Do you mind if I call youMara?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “We’ve got much to discuss.”
With a deep breath, I walked to the chair across from Wes. He watched me under hooded eyes, stoic mask firmly in place. Having observed everyone’s napkin in their lap, I quickly did the same.
“Perfect. Well, let’s begin by discussing the gala,” Charles announced.
Oh great.
Wes picked up his fork and knife and began carving the thick slab of charred meat, while Marissa grabbed her wineglass and took a sip of the rich burgundy liquid.
“Now, we’ll be inviting all the big players, naturally. And of course, we’ll be inviting our allies to the east.”
“Mmhmm,” Wes mumbled as he ate, never so much as glancing at his father. But Charles never seemed to notice. He just went on and on and on about a guest list I couldn’t have cared less about.
“Marissa, you’ll be ordering the flower arrangements tomorrow?”
“Yes, dear.” It could have been just me, but I was pretty sure I detected a hint of annoyance in her tone. I reached for my glass of water and started sipping it.
“Wonderful. Oh! No, Mara. Try the wine. I’ve had this bottle opened especially for you,” Charles said.
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