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I was 13 when my brother, Garrett, had done what he did. No one wanted to say it directly, but the suspicion was that he’d done it to escape the pressure Daddy had been putting on him to take over. Just as he’d been raising me to be a trophy wife, he’d been raising Garrett to be a replacement for him when he died. Except Garrett died first. Robbing Daddy of his heirs and taking the only other person in the world I thought really understood me.
Wiping away tears, I slid the spare key into the lock. Oh no, crapes. Auntie Blair was already up and cooking. Had she been up all night, or was she one of the rising with the sun people like me? Either way, there was no way of getting to my room without her noticing. I’d planned on stealing back up to my room and pretending I just got home late the night before.
I’d called Auntie Blair before going to Chad’s place for dinner just so she didn’t think I was dead in a ditch somewhere. Most of what I’d said was the truth, leaving out exactly where we were going but still admitting I was going to dinner with my boss. Trying my best to make it sound like a work thing. I was hard-pressed to think of a way to explain how a work dinner had lasted until the crack of dawn. Technically, my trek from Chad’s house to Blair’s had been a ‘walk of shame’, but I hadn’t really thought about it until I’d gotten back. Taking a breath of courage, I opened the door, determined to hold my head high.
“Someone must have had fun,” Auntie Blair said, not turning from the stove.
“Yes, I did. I shouldn't have done it, for Chad’s sake as much as mine, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“Oh no, it’s a good thing. It was going to happen sooner or later. At least it was someone you actually like,” Auntie Blair said.
“How did you know?”
“Oh, come on, darlin’. I was in the car. I’d know that dreamy look anywhere. You love the boy, no doubt about that.”
“I-I don’t know about that, but I certainly like and respect him.”
“Close enough,” Auntie Blair said with a wink, “he must be pretty special. You're a clever girl, unlikely to fall for any old smooth talker. From what I hear, you’ve been fighting them off most of your life, like that Art jackass. You didn’t give it to him, nor should you have, if you didn’t at least like him. It also needed to happen, I would say. Now you just need to come to your senses.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, afraid I knew all too well.
“You need to tell your dad. Forget all that bullshit about marrying Art and being a trophy wife. You don’t need to please anyone but yourself. Tell your dad what you really like and who. It is your decision to make, honey. Just because your daddy has a plan all laid out doesn’t mean you have to follow it.”
It would have been thought blasphemy in my family, but I felt she was probably right. I thought back to Garrett. Finding him in his bedroom. All the blood everywhere. The gun still smoking. Daddy tried to blame the music he was listening to at the time, Black Metal imported from Norway. Yet, even I knew there was something else going on. He had died to get out, but the pressure on him was different. Part of me never really forgave Daddy for what happened to Garrett. Like it was Daddy who had pulled the trigger himself. I knew that wasn’t true, but he had literally put the gun in his hand. Gifting it to Garrett for his 12th birthday.
“Every man needs a gun,” Daddy said, in response to Garrett’s perplexed look.
He had actually asked for a guitar and wondered if Daddy had misunderstood. Sadly, I was convinced that Daddy understood all too well.
I wasn’t going to let that happen to me — any of it. I wasn’t going to shoot myself in the head like my brother or allow myself to be controlled. Dressed up like some fucking little doll. I wasn’t sure what my future held or what role either Daddy or Chad would play in it, but I knew it was going to be mine to decide. Just like I knew that I didn’t want to give up on either of them.Chapter Fifteen - NinaIt was terrible. Not only because of the ropes digging into my wrists, but I could also smell Daddy’s cologne as he led me up the aisle — hauling me to my feet whenever I would fall. The final destination was all too clear as Art stood at the altar in a specially tailored white suit with black boots and a Stetson. A hand-selected bride’s maid already on her knees in front of him, going to town on his cock.
