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At this, she pressed her lips into a firm line, betraying her disapproval. "Mr. King shipped them off to a private school in Atlanta.”
I nodded, understanding now why it was so quiet. After a few more steps, we came to stop outside of the door to one of the many guest rooms we had in our house.
"Now," she said with a mischievous grin, “prepare yourself. She’s an unruly one.”
I gave her a confused look but she didn't say anything more, just unlocked the door with a key that hung around her neck.
“What kind of mischievousness are you up to?” I asked her, not able to hold back my chuckle as I opened the door. She shook her head, only giving me a secretive amused look. It suddenly fell away when her eyes landed on something in the room, then they widened in shock.
I turned, then froze when I saw the women in the center of the room.
Before us was a pile of broken furniture, and the odor of nail polish remover filled my nose.
A girl stood over the pile of broken furniture, with wild red hair, flashing green eyes, and a feral expression on her face. She held her hand up, gripping what looked like a sock.
Flames licked the edges, trickling upwards towards her fingers.
Her eyes met mine, and her lips curled upwards in a smirk. “You must be the Prince Charming.”
Then she dropped the sock, setting the furniture on fire.
Three
The man who betrayed me had a charming smile and a picture of Rose.
It was the kind of smile that you immediately noticed, even from across the room. On first appearance, it was perfect. Bright and enchanting, like the kind of smile worn by a great king in a Disney fairy tale.
It was only on closer inspection that you noticed the cold undertones, the deceptive gentlemanliness of it.
The picture of Rose was also, admittedly, a tad bit out of focus. She wasn’t looking at the camera, but out at something beyond the sight of the photographer. She’d also had a scraggly looking dog by her side.
It was the sad look on her face that did it in for me, even though all of my instincts screamed that I shouldn’t trust the man with the arresting, charming smile. I said goodbye to a father that I loved dearly, got onto a plane, and didn't look back.
When I arrived, Rose wasn't waiting for me at the airport like the charming man said she’d be.
In my defense, he'd just received a phone call stating that she'd been delayed.
Once again, I believed what he’d said, even though the pounding in my heart told me to run away as soon as the stairs to the private jet hit the ground.
But I thought of that picture and the sad look and the scrawny dog. She needed me, I could feel it.
Plastering on a smile, I took the crook of the elbow that the charming man offered me. He whisked me away from the fancy jet and into a fancy car and we went shopping, purchasing clothes for my impromptu visit.
I trusted the charming man.
Naively so—because that's what I did.
I trusted people, even when I shouldn't.
It was an issue of mine. I was working on it. Whatever.
Anyhow. I spent three full days shopping, pushing off my annoyance that Rose was still delayed, and pretended I wasn’t worried. I politely accepted all offers for dinners, shows on the strip, and zip lining.
Finally, on the third night of outings and a bajillion excuses, I put my foot down and demanded to see Rose.
Suddenly, the charming man became Mr. Not-so-charming.
It was then that I was shoved in this room, dragged by three guards. Kicking and screaming, my insides twisted and turned as my instincts screamed ‘I told you so’. That I never should've trusted that awful man.
