Page 1 of Ruthless Deliverance

1

DANI

What the hell did I get myself into? I’ve asked myself that question more times than I can count, but today, it’s on repeat in my head. And the sentiment repeats louder when I shift in the stiff leather chair, tugging down my perfectly pleated skirt.

Philip gives me a side-eye from where he’s seated beside me, glancing down the length of my bare legs. “Stop fidgeting.”

“Easy for you to say.” I motion to his full-coverage suit while I’m stuck in the damn Sacred Creed Academy uniform. All I’d have to do is remove the stiff navy blazer, loosen the tie a tad, then knot the button-down under my breasts to reveal my midriff and I’d fill the role of the typical perverted male fantasy.

Philip turns his smug expression to me as his eyes take a lingering assessment over my body. “We both have our roles to play.”

“Says the person whose role comes with a fuckin’ pair of pants.” It’s not like I don’t wear a dress now and then, but I’d like the option to choose. My fingers grip the hem of my skirt, pulling it down as I cross one knee over the other then fold my arms across my chest.

“At least you have the sullen teenager act down pat.” Philip utters as his rigid posture turns to face the empty mahogany desk.

Less than a minute later, I hear the door of the small office open, a chipper man appearing beside me. “Sorry to keep you all waiting. First day of school is a little crazy around here.” He extends his hand. “Mr. Boswell. Guidance counselor and the official Welcome to Sacred Creed Committee.”

I remain motionless, my arms clutching my chest tighter as my eyes drop to the hand that represents making a deal with the devil. Only, the deal has already been negotiated, its terms already established. This simply sets it in motion.

Philip’s previous assholiness is nowhere to be found as he stands, taking the man’s hand in his with a firm shake before resuming his seat. “Philip Graham.” He motions to me. “My daughter, Danica Graham.”

“Welcome aboard, Danica!” The counselor’s bright smile looks sincere, but it still makes my stomach turn.

A throat clearing from Philip forces me to acknowledge Mr. Bozo. “Dani,” I correct with my preferred nickname. It’s the only thing that still feels like me as I’m clothed in someone else’s uniform and immersed in someone else’s world.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dani.” Boswell thankfully gets a clue and doesn’t wait for a friendly handshake from me and takes a seat behind the desk. He focuses on the computer monitor on his desk, clicking away as he asks, “So, what brings you all to Radon from … Dallas?”

“Transferred with work,” Philip answers.

“Understandable. Moving senior year is a bummer though.” Boswell turns his look of sympathy to me. He has no idea how much of a bummer this really is.

“It’d suck less if I could wear pants.”

Philip says my name, but Boswell cuts him off with a laugh. “You’re not the only one who’d like the rule changed, but it’s been a no-go. Tradition still stands.”

“Yeah. Sure. Tradition.” I’ve heard all about how this academy loves their tradition, and it has nothing to do with uniforms and more like letting entitled pricks run the place because their parents paved the way with twenty-four karat gold for them.

Philip gives me his I’ve-already-had-enough-of-your-shit look before he turns to Boswell. “We’re still getting adjusted to the move, but I assure you Danica will be on her best behavior.”

“I’m sure she will be. I’ll get her all set for class if you’d like to head out.” Boswell gives me a glance that says he knows Philip is full of pipe dreams that won’t be coming true anytime soon. What kind of student would I be if I didn’t push the rules?

Philip looks a bit hesitant, but it’s not like he has a choice. He’ll have to leave me unattended eventually. “Have a good day, sweetheart.” His tone is soft, but the words still come out forced as he stands then hovers over me, placing a quick peck on my forehead.

It’s that moment almost everything is over. But I’m able to maintain control. Barely. My fingers clutch the arms of the chair as I turn to watch Philip saunter out of the room. My mind automatically playing out the ways I’ll make that motherfucker pay later.

“Dani,” Boswell says softly as I turn to him, “is there anything you’d like to talk about now that it’s just the two of us?”

“No.” My grip on reality tightens as my fingers release the chair arms, and I relax as much as possible against the seat back. None of the dread has left me, but being away from Philip does make this place much more tolerable.

“Are you sure? This is a safe space if there’s anything you would like to discuss.”

If this fucker only knew. “Nope. I’m good. Mom is dead. Moved here with my dad. New school senior year, and still just want a freakin’ pair of pants.”

He remains silent as I debate if I should’ve kept my mouth shut, not that I’ve ever been good at it. But maybe I should give it some real effort just to get through this school year or at least the damn day.

“Okay, Dani. Well, my door is always open if you need anything at all.” Boswell looks to his computer, then grabs a piece of paper off his desk, passing it to me. “Here’s your schedule.”

I grab it from him, not wanting to refuse and explain that I was given the same schedule already when my assigned clothing was delivered to my “new” house.