Page 18 of Murgul
Of course I noticed! I am not as unobservant as you seem to think!
Well, cease prattling on so we can listen to what she says. She has already said this story will only be told once.
I am not the one still droning on and on. You are.
Ignoring Vrog’s last comment,I refocus on our lovely mate. Her beautiful face is wan with sadness and old grief. Vrog and I watch as she takes a deep breath and starts talking. Her voice full of emotion as she begins her tale:
“I was always considered pretty as a child,” she says. “But once I hit puberty and grew into myself, pretty turned into beautiful. They were mid-level celebrities. Mom was a soap opera actress, Dad was a B-list movie star. Neither of them had the talent to climb higher, and I wasn’t planned. It didn’t take me long to realize they never wanted to be parents. They hired nannies, tutors—anyone to deal with me so they didn’t have to. I can’t remember a single time either of them hugged me. Not once. No affection. No warmth. Just distance.”
I can hear the tightness in her voice, can feel the pain rolling off her even though she tries to keep it buried.
“One of Dad’s friends was a modeling headhunter—Larry Foxborough,” she continues, her hands twisting in her lap. “Slimy as they come. He came over one weekend, took one look at me, and started telling Dad how much money he could make off my face if they’d just sign a contract. I was still a minor… but that didn’t stop them.”
I say nothing, but fury coils low in my gut. My claws itch to rend the flesh of those who used her, who twisted her beauty into a cage. The pain she carries is not something a creature like her should ever have borne.
Gwendolyn pauses for just a tic, her eyes focused on nothing as she stares straight ahead. “I was only fourteen the day my parents signed the modeling contract that essentially made me the property of the company Larry worked for. I didn’t see my parents again for almost a year. Thankfully, I was never molested or raped, but that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t violated.”
Gwendolyn takes a breath, as though bracing herself for what she is about to share. “The first thing Larry did wastake me to an upscale salon where the attendants stripped me naked to see what sort of canvas they were working with. I was mortified because I hadn’t ever been naked in front of another person before. That was the beginning of fifteen years of hell. The contract my parents signed was only valid until I turned eighteen and achieved legal adulthood, but after four years of being told how, what, when, and where to be, when Larry brought me a second contract—I didn’t bat an eye at signing it.”
Shaking her head, she scoffs before continuing. “I should have. My parents only showed up for publicity events in the four years after they sold me to Larry. They didn’t ever love me or really even care about me as their daughter, so when the money dried up after my eighteenth birthday, I never saw them unless it was something organized by Larry to show what a ‘loving’ family we were.” Gwendolyn rolls her eyes at that, her small hands clenching into fists where they rest on the table, her voice withering to nothing— I feel it when her mind swells with self-disgust over what she perceives as weakness of character.
Vrog’s belligerent voice distracts me from my tasks of soothing my mate’s distress.
It is good this Larry male is dead, or else we would have to make a trip to her planet to relieve him of his spine. While he still breathed.
Agreed. Her lifegivers are no better and deserved to suffer for what they did to her as a youngling.
Agreed. They are lucky they perished when her planet did.
Gwendolyn’s soft voice interrupts my conversation with Vrog and I mentally shove him so I can focus on her words.
“I was nothing more than a face and a body used to sell products,” she goes on quietly. “My image sold clothing, hairstyles, makeup, skincare—if you could think of it, I was used to market it. You have to understand, the society I come from is obsessed with perfection. And to many, Iwasthat ideal.”
She exhales softly, a bitter edge curling around her words. “People are shallow, materialistic, drawn to impossible standards of beauty. What most people didn’t realize is that I lived a rigorous lifestyle to look the way I did. Larry kept track of everything I ate, drank, and used. If I gained too much weight, he would essentially starve me until I slimmed down to what he considered my ideal weight. I was required to work out strenuously seven days a week, and had a personal trainer who ensured I was doing everything to the letter. Larry would punish me for any slight infraction. Since my beauty was what made him money, he got creative. His favorite form ofpunishmentwas to beat the bottoms of my feet with a wooden rod until they were black and blue.”
Rage wells as Vrog and I both let out a bone-chilling growl. Gripping the edge of the table, I feel my claws slide out as I seethe and process what my sweet mate has just told me. She sufferedfor not being perfect.
Now we understand why she does not care that we are not perfect. In her eyes, it truly does not matter.
Vrog’s words hit me like a warhammer, and I drop back into my seat, my eyes wide with disbelief as I stare at my mate from across the table. My reaction to her tale must have penetrated, because she pauses before reaching across the table to pat my hand. “Murgul, honey, are you okay?”
She is asking if I am well… after relaying part of her cruel story to me, her concern is ifIam well. Whatever I did to deserve such a mate, I will eternally be grateful for it.
“Yes, bright one. I am fine. Please continue. I wish to hear the rest, no matter how dark it may be.”
A small tremulous smile creeps across her face as she processes my response. Squaring her shoulders, she sits up straighter and delves right back into her story. “A couple of days before I turned thirty, I tried to escape. I knew the contract I signed at eighteen ended on my thirtieth birthday. I had to get away from Larry before then, so he couldn’t force me into signing another. There’s no way he was going to let his biggest cash cow go.”
Fetch her, fool. She needs support to get the rest of this said.
Her voice cracks on her last sentence, and I do not hesitate as I stand. Stepping around the table, I scoop her up into my arms, ignoring her slight surprised squeak, and prowl over to the divan before gently easing down, being careful not to jostle her. Pulling her close, I tuck her head under my chin and hold her, more for my comfort than hers, because I know what she is about to tell me will not be good.
Her voice is a mere thread of sound when she starts talking again. “Note how I said‘tried’to escape. Larry caught me, and once he got me back to the mansion, his temper got the better of him. In his rage, he strangled me until I was barely conscious before beating me until I was nothing more than a bloody mess lying on the floor. Larry wasn’t really all that much biggerthan me, but since I was kept so thin and malnourished, there wasn’t much I could do to defend myself. With his numerous connections and obscene amount of money, he had an on-call doctor who knew better than to ask any questions. The physician arrived, cleaned me up, and gave me enough pain medication to knock me out.”
Her voice cracks with remembered pain so deep it’s physically manifesting itself before clearing her throat. “Surprisingly enough, he didn’t break any of my bones, and none of my wounds scarred. Not visibly anyway. It took a while, but the damage he did when he strangled me eventually became glaringly obvious. Naturally, Larry released a statement to the press that a crazed stalker attacked me, but we both knew that was far from the truth. It’s pretty sad, but I was almost glad that something about me wasn’t perfect anymore, because it meant that I wasn’t nearly as valuable an object to be exploited.”
Gwendolyn pauses for another tic before taking a deep breath and resuming her tale. “It took over a month for all the bruising to fade completely. I spent my thirtieth birthday bedridden, and in so much pain I could barely function. It also meant I wasn’t able to sign a new contract. I’m not sure why, but the doctor Larry used must have had some small amount of either guilt or compassion, because he helped me escape. On his last visit, he left a syringe full of an extremely strong sedative, explained to me what it was, and what would happen if I used it on myself… or if I used it on Larry. Larry and I were the only ones who lived in his mansion. All the security guys had separate residences and weren’t allowed inside the house unless it was an emergency. All I wanted was my freedom and to lead a full, normal, happy life.”
Do not worry, precious one. Between the fool and me, you will be happy. This I vow.