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"What should we have her do?" Hawthorne grins at me before turning to his son. "What do you think, Steven?"
The boy, who can't be much older than I am, leers in my direction. I look back down at the ground after our eyes meet. I will not be shamed more than I've already been. My blood boils, thoughts of taking my frustrations out on the trio the only reason I'm still managing to control myself.
"I think she should apologize by kissing your shoes," Steven suggests.
Hatred flows through every vein in my body, and my hands form fists at my sides as I stare at the trampled grass beneath me.
"What a grand idea," the older Hawthorne shrills, pushing out his foot on the ground without even waiting for my father's approval. "Go ahead, daughter. Give them a little kiss."
I fight against the bile rising in my stomach, forcing myself to lean down and press my lips against the shiny black leather of his shoes.
"Ah ah ah," Hawthorne says in a sing-song voice, and I glance up, glaring at the goddamn bastard. "Stay in that position for a few seconds, let us get a better look at you."
I make myself stay bent down, with my mouth pressed against his shoe and my eyes closed firmly. Finally, he nudges me with his shoe, and I take it as a sign to get up. Just as I'm about to pull myself off the ground, I hear another familiar voice and it sends chills down my spine.
"I see you're having some fun with the guest of honor."
I get up, dusting off my dress and glaring at Dexter who has materialized next to my father, champagne flute in hand. Never mind the fact that he's not old enough to be drinking – nobody comments on it as he takes a swig from his glass.
There’s a certain tension between my father and Dexter. When they look at one another, an understanding passes between them not to speak of it, but I noticed it right away. I wonder what that’s about.
Still, they seem to treat one another with respect. They are equals – my father and Dexter’s father owned this town, which means half of it is now my husband-to-be’s.
"What do you think of her, Booth?" Hawthorne gestures to me, regarding Dexter with a look of admiration.
It seems unnatural that a grown man would be acting this way around a teenager. But that's the treatment Firstborns get in Eden Falls. All of them, except for the outcast – me.
"Deathly plain," Dexter shrugs, sending waves of uncomfortable heat through my body. "But I'm sure she can find a way to make herself useful. She's got great cock-sucking lips. I'll have to put those to the test soon."
His vulgar words hit me like shockwaves, making me blush and glance away from the entertained group. Neither my father nor the Hawthornes offer a response to what Dexter has said apart from a sneer or two. I guess this is considered repartee around these parts. They fucking disgust me.
“Don’t forget, Booth,” my father says coolly. “She needs to be a virgin until your wedding day if she wants to have the same privileges as the other Firstborns.”
“Of course,” Dex replies with a smirk.
I catch myself giving him a nickname in my head, furrowing my brows. Why the hell is that name in my head now? It suits him. It’s less formal, but still intimidating. But I still hate him, I remind myself. Hate him more than ever.
"Do let us know how she does on that front," Steven addresses my fiancé. "And if you'd let us borrow her to see for ourselves."
Dexter's knuckles turn white as he grips the glass in his hand. For a second, I'm convinced he's going to break it, but a moment later, the blood seeps back into his fists again and he grins at the younger Hawthorne without offering a reply.
"I hope you'll be having your fun at prep school this year." My father slaps Dexter on the back. "Don't let the fact that you're engaged hold you back, old sport. I sure didn't."
And look how well that's worked out for you. Married to your second wife, while the first one left you, leaving a trail of smoke behind as she ran away as fast as she could. It didn't take her long to realize how fucked up you and this town are.
Thinking about my biological mother makes my head and my heart hurt. As far as I know, she disappeared after divorcing my father, after she found out about his affair with Bryony. She wants nothing to do with me. But still, my curiosity will get the better of me one day. I need to know how she could just abandon her flesh and blood.
"Oh, I will," Dexter offers up as a reply, emptying his glass of the fizzy champagne as I stare at the ground.
I want to get away, but I'm sure they won't let me go even if I try to come up with an excuse.
"I'm not going to let her hold me back. She can make herself useful somehow though, I hope."
His cruel smirk makes it clear what he has in mind, and my father laughs along with his business associates.
"She has a name," I cut in, finally having had enough. "And she would appreciate it if you treated her the same way you're treating this sorry excuse for a man."
My eyes drill into Dexter. "In fact, I–"
