Page 55 of It Shouldn't Be You
“Gary, we need to leave.” Mother interrupts him, taking a step forward as her eyes flick over my face. Annoyance flickers over her face as she purses her lips in distaste, sweeping her eyes over my face as if the redness blooming there is my fault. I suppose to her it is. God forbid Father ever take responsibility for his actions.
“Control your children better in the future.” Father sneers at her before buttoning his jacket and charging out of the house with us in his wake. I knew tonight would be awful, but this is shaping up to be even worse than I anticipated.
Peter tosses a smirk at me over his shoulder as he follows Father like the good little soldier in training he is. The temptation to lash out at him is like fire in my veins but as we cross the threshold out into the compound, the feeling of being watched has me biting my tongue and reaching out to clasp Freya’s hand with mine. At fifteen and as the youngest daughter she’s been painstakingly sheltered up until recently. The only thing me and Mother ever saw eye to eye on was keeping her out of Angus’ sight, but apparently that ship has sailed.
“Hell, what’s going to happen?” She whispers, leaning into my side, looking up at me with wide eyes. I would do anything to reassure her, but I’ve also swore to never lie to her. Taking in her pale features and the way her whole body is trembling, it’s clear that I need to settle her nerves before Angus lays eyes on her. Men like him prey on weaknesses and I’ll be dammed if I give him any opportunity to turn his attention onto Freya.
“Nothing, it’s just dinner, right? Father has probably done something to earn him favour. If we just keep our heads down, it’ll be over before we know it.” It’s not a complete lie and hopefully it’s enough to keep her calm while I work to stop this car crash in its tracks. Or at least shelter her from the fallout as much as possible.
“Pinky promise you’d tell me if you knew more?” Holding her pinkie out to me I’m reminded just how young at heart she is. Living a sheltered life will do that to a girl and her innocence is something I’m determined to preserve. No matter the cost. Crossing my fingers behind my back, I link pinkies with her giving her a forced smile.
“Come along girls. We don’t want to keep him waiting. Angus is a very busy man.” Mother calls, her perfect society wife smile painted on her face as she turns to look back at us. While her smile says one thing, the look she levels my way coupled with the vein throbbing in her forehead say another. I wonder if she would be so quick to look at me with barely concealed rage if she knew tonight was the last, she’ll ever see me. Would she even care.
“Coming, Mother.” Painting an equally forced smile on my face I quicken my pace, pulling Freya along with me. As we near the steps up to the main house her palm gets damp in mine and her sharp inhale as the door opens to reveal the man of the hour says it all.
Angus Graham has a reputation that precedes him and rightly so.
Despite his best efforts to portray a welcoming aura, what with his neatly styled auburn hair, crisp three-piece suit and the wide grin stretched across his face, it’s all a dirty lie. This man is Satan and everyone who has spent any amount of time with him knows it. The vast majority just chose not to challenge him, not after what happened to the last person who did.
Rumour has it, they never did find all the pieces of him.
“Welcome, Gary. How lovely to see your wife with you tonight. And these must be the infamous Campbell children. Come, come. Let me take a look at you.” His smarmy smile hasthe hairs on the back of my neck standing up and vomit fighting to crawl up my esophagus. Following Peter, who is positively beaming as he shakes the older man’s hand, it’s not long before I’m standing in front of him with Freya trying to hide behind me.
His grey eyes rove over me, darkening as he takes in my exposed décolletage and legs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks me over, and while it disgusts me, it’s a price I’d happily pay a thousand times if it keeps his eyes of Freya. Unfortunately, she whimpers behind me, drawing his attention to her. As his eyes flick between us, like a predator weighing up who will be his prey first. I swallow down the urge to step in front of her. Doing so would only result in drawing even more attention to her.
“Why you girls could be twins! How fascinating.” He smirks before turning his attention to my Father. For a blissful second, I get a lungful of air without his attention or cloying cologne clogging my senses. As we follow him inside, the door clicking closed behind us, the walls start feeling like they are closing in around me. Fighting back my rising anxiety I remind myself I just have to get through dinner. After this it’ll all be over. It’s only a few hours, tops, and then it’ll be over.
As we file into the dining room, Angus and Father help themselves to the seats at the heads of the table, leaving us to fill the spaces in between them. Mother and Peter claim the seats either side of Father, forcing me and Freya to sit either side of Angus. Suddenly whatever appetite I had vanishes.
“Gary, remind me again why I asked you here?” The thinly veiled glee in Angus’s voice would alert even the most oblivious person to the fact something is brewing. Grinding my molars, I keep my gaze fixed squarely on the table and my thoughts to myself.
“I believe you wanted to discuss how I plan to repay your ah...generosity.” Father clears his throat. If it wasn’t for what is looming over my head, I would take great joy in his discomfort. It seems only fitting after all. Why should he get to be comfortable while my life slips away in front of my eyes?
“Ahhh yes! That’s right. How silly of me to forget. If memory serves, you cost me quite a lot of money Gary. More than you can afford.” At his raised eyebrow Mother shifts uncomfortably while Peter watches the back and forth like a tennis match with glee painted across his face. Before either of them can say anything else, a server comes in carrying our starters. Salads for the women and soup with a hearty bread roll for the men. The toxic masculinity in this place never fails to amaze me.
The tension in the room does little to Father or Angus’ appetite, their bowls cleared in minutes while I push my dry lettuce around my plate. Trying to eat right now sounds like hell on earth. The thought of trying to push anything down around the lump in my throat sounds as appetising as eating snails.
I’m jerked out of my thoughts when a heavy hand, adorned in rings, lands on top of my own. Freezing my movements, I look up to meet Angus’ stare head on. I might be sick to my stomach to be near him, but I’ll be dammed if I show him that.
“Something wrong? Your Mother assured me Caesar salad, minus that fatting dressing of course, is your favourite.” I barely hold my snort in. As if she would know what I like. I can’t even remember the last meal we had together as a family.
“Of course not. I’m just not overly hungry. I thought I’d be best saving room for the main course.” I smile at him, all prim and proper like the perfect mafia daughter I’ve been raised to be. With a self-satisfied smirk, he sits back in his seat, eyes pinned to my chest. Considering he’s at least ten years my senior and I’m barely legal, the act is disgusting. What’s worse, however,is when he turns his attention to my woefully underage sister. Breathing through my nose I count to five in my head. Stabbing him with my fork is not an option no matter how much I want it to be.
“Sir. If there’s something…other than money that I can offer that would help repair the damages I caused, I would be only too happy to.” Father’s voice cuts across the room, drawing Angus’ attention back up to him and away from Freya, who is physically shaking in her seat.
“Hmm well now that you mention it…I am in need of something quitespecial.” The emphasis he puts on special as he looks at me again is enough to seal my fate, even before the next words are out of his mouth.
“I need an heir. Young Helen here, would make a wonderful bride and mother, don’t you think?”