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I open my mouth to direct him back to the club where my friends are waiting, but for some reason, I direct him to a different destination entirely.
His raised brow almost causes me to change my mind and I glare at him with a defiance that even surprises me.
“Are you sure, honey?”
He scratches his head and I almost back out, but I am too fired up to consider the consequences of my actions.
“I’m sure.”
I look away before he can register the fear in my eyes because what the hell am I doing? I must be insane, but after what I saw in that office, I am no longer in control of my sanity.
My heart is pounding, and I try desperately to get my breathing under control because what am I even thinking?
That I’m aware of this place is shocking enough, but the fact I’m actually thinking of going tells me I’ve lost leave of my senses.
I’m still unsure why I have such an overwhelming need to go there, but there was something so deliciously sinister about what just happened and it left my morality in shreds at my feet after what Jefferson did to me tonight.
I almost can’t think of him right now. Witnessing him with a whore, obviously enjoying every second of it, made me want to hurl. He was nothing like the polite, reserved man my parents have arranged a marriage with. Respectable, intelligent and hungry for power. The man I saw was entirely different and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene playing out before my disbelieving eyes.
My phone buzzes and I see a text from Clarice, my friend.
Clarice
Hey, babe. Where are you? We want to leave for Jimmy Johnson’s
Abi
Sorry, got a migraine. If anyone asks, I was with you all night. You know how my parents hate me being out on my own.
Clarice
Sure. You can count on me. Where are you heading?
Abi
Pool house.
I hold my breath, hoping she accepts my explanation. Clarice knows the pool house is my bolt hole. The place I go when I want to be alone and I’m hoping my story checks out now.
She texts back.
Clarice
If you need company, I’ll meet you there
Abi
It’s ok. I’m not good company right now. I’ll pop an Advil and watch a chick flick. I’ll be fine in the morning.
Clarice
Sorry babe. Bad luck. I’ll call you tomorrow
As the conversation ends, I exhale slowly. Thank God I lead a sheltered life. Even Clarice won’t doubt my story because when has Abigail Kensington ever done anything not scripted in her parent’s handbook? No, I’m the good girl. The pretty princess who does everything she is told to do. Dress respectfully, fix my hair a certain way. Exercise, speak and even read books that are chosen for me. I am not allowed my own mind at all, and my entire life is controlled by my parents. Even my future has been determined by them. Marry Jefferson Stevenson and help him with his political aspirations. An arranged marriage that offers no room for argument.
Engagement announcement this summer. Wedding the next. Then honeymoon in Europe before producing three children and playing the trophy wife. I’ve been trained for this my entire life, which is why in one rash moment of rebellion I am heading to a place that good girls would run from in horror.
The Banned Room.
