Page 22 of Lock Me Inside


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That’s not the only thing I’m worried about as I pick up my purse. My back’s been bothering me all day—I didn’t do anything to aggravate it, and I don’t have to. Sometimes, I happen to move the wrong way, and bam. I’m in at least discomfort and, at worst, pain for the rest of the day. What a time for this to happen. It’s not bad enough that I have to smile my way through this little charade, but now I’ll have to do it while my back is screaming.

I guess that’s what painkillers are for. I don’t like using them since they sometimes leave me feeling loopy—and I don’t want to feel that way around Colt or Nix, who I know would take advantage of it. At the same time, what’s the alternative? Having Mom get mad at me for being a wet blanket, as she puts it? I guess since we’re going to a dinner, it isn’t like the pill will sit on an empty stomach. I go to my bathroom and pull the bottle down from the cabinet, popping one into my mouth and washing it down with a handful of water from the sink.

“Leni, we have to go. We can’t keep people waiting!”

I give myself one last look in the mirror, checking out my makeup and hair before squaring my shoulders and starting for the hallway. Another good thing about these pills: in about half an hour, I’m going to feel happier than I have any right to feel. Kinder, friendlier. I’m sure Mom will be pleased once I’m feeling social.

Everybody is waiting by the front door. Instantly, I know I’ve made a mistake. Colt and Nix are wearing dark suits, like their father, while my mother is dressed in a white gown not unlike the one she’ll be wearing tomorrow. They could be headed out for some red-carpet event, and I’m wearing a dress I bought from Target a couple of years ago. Sure, it’s the nicest thing I own, but compared to them?

My mother doesn’t seem to notice, so at least she’s not going to berate me. “Finally. We can get out of here and not be seen as rude for keeping hungry people waiting.”

“You’re too hard on her sometimes, sweetheart.” James offers a wink that I appreciate, even if I don’t love what I know will be my mother’s reaction. When he sticks up for me like that, it only makes her angry with me. She’ll find some way to take it out on me when we’re alone.

It’s no secret the guys think I look like crap. If the glance they exchange when I fall in step with them is any indication. “Nice dress,” Nix mutters while his brother snickers.

“Thanks,” I say flatly.

“Where did you get it? Goodwill?” Nix murmurs as we get into the car. Of course, we’re only taking one car, meaning I have to sit in the back between the two worst people I know. Now I wish I was wearing pants since they both insist on rubbing their legs against mine as James pulls away from the house.

This is like one of those nightmares where I show up for school without shoes on, or in my underwear, or something like that. Only there’s no waking up from it. I’m an afterthought, and now everybody will know it when they see me standing alongside the rest of my so-called family. For somebody so concerned about appearances, You’d think Mom would have mentioned the dress code for tonight. I could have figured out a way to dress up a little more if I’d had warning.

“Are you feeling cold?” Colt asks, his hand brushing my thigh. “You have goose bumps.”

“Stop,” I whisper, smacking his hand away while our parents are oblivious in the front seat. Mom won’t stop talking about tomorrow, and all the little last-minute details she hopes don’t fall to pieces. Meanwhile, her daughter is getting groped in the back seat.

“Loosen up,” he murmurs, snickering the way his brother does while once again groping my thigh. “You might actually have a little fun for once.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” This time, I dig my nails into his hand, and he doesn’t try again.

The dinner is being held at a country club, some big, fancy place with fountains out front and dramatic lighting. Mom takes James’s arm once we’re out of the car, and they glide into the building like a king and queen. Nix and Colt make it a point to walk in front of me, so I’m bringing up the rear.

Everybody is already here, and it’s a lot more people than I expected. They all start applauding when the happy couple enters the room. I’m a few minutes shy from when my pill is supposed to kick in, and I wish it would hurry up because grinding my teeth through this is painful, maybe more so than my back. Everybody’s dressed the way the rest of my family is, and I have never felt so out of place. That’s saying something since I spent a lot of time in a back brace.

Mom doesn’t bother introducing me to a lot of people, which is fine with me, though I get the feeling most of them are from the office. “Hey, Amanda! How come you don’t dress that way at work?” one of the men calls out across the room, and she giggles and waves at him while everybody laughs like that was a funny joke.

“And this one cleans up well, too,” one of the women murmurs, touching James’s arm, but she’s not looking at him. She’s looking at Nix, and she might as well have the word cougar written across her forehead.

One of the waitstaff passes with a tray loaded with appetizers. I take a few on a napkin, hoping to get some food in my stomach quickly since it doesn’t look like we’re sitting down to eat dinner right away.

“So Nixon,” the cougar purrs, taking him by the arm. “I remember when you were a skinny little boy with braces. You’ve certainly grown up.” It’s actually kind of funny watching him pretend to be pleased when it’s obvious he’s grossed out by a woman more than twice his age. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.

One thing is for sure: I’m glad I didn’t take the job at the firm. These people are so plastic and fake and even a little creepy. Though this is James’s rehearsal dinner, and he’s getting married tomorrow, half of the women don’t stop flirting with him. Maybe it’s not such a surprise that he met a woman and got involved with her even though she was his employee. I wonder how many of these women he’s been through.

“Champagne, miss?” I’m startled to find a server standing nearby with a tray full of flutes. Sure, why not? It’ll help the night pass quicker or at least more pleasantly. My brain is still way too sharp to get through this without revealing how cringeworthy the entire evening is shaping up to be. There’s more champagne waiting for us when we take our seats, settling in for dinner.

And I’m going to need it since, naturally, I’m smack dab between my so-called brothers. I know I’m technically supposed to wait for a toast or whatever, but I take a few sips anyway. It helps make everything a little more bearable.

I have to sit through toast after toast, pretending to be happy. I’m glad nobody is paying me much attention. Not even the guys, both of whom are on their best behavior for once. Too many witnesses, I suppose. Besides, Nix is distracted by his admirer, who keeps shooting him looks from the next table. I have to fight the urge to giggle before accepting another glass of champagne. It’s not until I finish half of that one that my skin feels a little hot.

Using the napkin, I fan my face with air and take a few calming breaths. My stomach churns, and I reach for the water on the table. No more champagne for me.

“Are you all right, honey? You look a little pale.” My mom reaches across the table and touches my cheek. Her concerned demeanor is short-lived and turns quickly into selfishness. “Don’t tell me you’re getting sick. Not today, and definitely not tomorrow.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Did you eat anything today? Maybe your sugar is a bit low.”

“I don’t know, I…” Shit. The pain meds. “My back was hurting earlier, and I took some pain medicine on an empty stomach. It was stupid. But I’ll be fine.”

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