Page 94 of Beautiful Scars

Chapter 2

MEISIE

After nearly two weeks, I finally find out what color my wedding is going to be.

I was close, but according to my seamstress, forest green isn’t the same as hunter green. I think my seamstress is full of shit, but I’d never say it out loud because she seems to get an odd pleasure out of pricking me with her pins.

“Can you breathe comfortably?” the middle-aged woman asks, peering at me over the top of her half-moon spectacles, a bristling pin cushion on her wrist poised as she waits for my answer.

“Yes, definitely.” Half-breaths can be comfortable too, right?

“Hmm,” she murmurs. “Then I’ll need to take in the sides another inch.”

“What? No, please, this is fine.” I try and step away, but her watery-blue eyes pin me—ha, ha, literally—where I stand. “It’s gorgeous just the way it is. I wouldn’t want to split a seam if I laugh or something.”

The way she straightens and inspects my reflection, I have a feeling I’d be dead in a week if she ever found out that had happened.

But I wasn’t lying.

This dress iskiller. It has a massive princess skirt that cinches tight at my waist, an embroidered bodice, and a sweetheart neckline.

And don’t get me started on the subtly glimmering fabric, or the mass of diamante around the hem that glitters whenever it catches the light.

The arctic-white makes my gray eyes seem almost silver, and sets off my dark hair like nothing I’ve ever seen. Even my freckles look cute rather than distracting. But I swear, if Janice takes in the waist another hair, I’ll pass out.

She tugs on the dress, scrutinizing my body like an Olympic coach and then humphs to herself. “I have a diet I could—”

“No need, my good woman,” I cut in imperiously. “I’ll swallow some tapeworms this afternoon. Be nothing left of me by the time the wedding swings by.”

Janice lets out a scandalized gasp just as Sarah walks through the door.

Thank God. I stare down at Janice with my nose in the air. “Give us the room, please.”

A smile squirms onto Sarah’s mouth as Janice hastily grabs her handbag and leaves the room, head bowed but mouth moving as if she’s muttering curses under her breath.

She wouldn’t dare do it where I could hear. As it turns out, no one messes with a Hendry bride-to-be.

“Morning,” Sarah says, sounding breathy and looking flushed. She has her notebook in front of her, edge jammed against her stomach and pen already in her hand. “Just need to discuss a few things with you.”

I shrug as I turn back to my reflection. I’m in the makeshift fitting room Sarah created for my fittings in an unoccupied room down the hall from my bedroom.

Because, obviously, I couldn’t attend any fittings outside of the house, and Janice would have fainted if she’d had to work in fittings around a tracking bracelet or a pair of handcuffs. I think that’s one of the main reasons Cillian moved me out of the dungeon.

“Don’t know why you keep asking me about this shit,” I tell her. “Not as if I get a say.”

Sarah looks away from me, instead staring at my dress. “Sorry, but Kill’s away and—”

“It’s okay,” I say through a sigh. “Just—” I wave a hand at her. “What do you need?”

A small smile touches her mouth as she flips open her notebook. I peek at her while she finds her place and mentally shake my head.

What is a girl like her doing in a place like this? She seems nice, if a bit airheaded sometimes. But why the hell did she get involved with Cole? Is it the money? The power? His good looks?

Maybe he’s a demon in the sack, like my own car crash.

I roll my eyes at myself and go back to staring at my reflection. “Hey, could you get me out of this thing before I pass out?”

“Are you sure?” Sarah asks. “It looked like she was still—”