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I know why she doesn’t want me working. Her excuse was, I just got home after being abroad for two years. I needed time to acclimate to society. It’s complete and utter bullshit. She wants to marry me off, and she thinks me wanting an escape from her, from this house, will make me more amendable.
She’s wrong.
Unless Ryder is the one standing at the end of the aisle waiting on me, I won’t be walking. Not in this lifetime, and I’d like to believe not in the next either. Our love is that powerful. We’ve battled so much to be together, and no way will I tarnish that by marrying another man to appease my mother.
I’ll disappear first.
I know I need to step up my game. I know that being snarky and eating junk food isn’t enough to push her over the edge. The thing is, I want to stand up to her, but I’m also scared as hell of what she’s capable of.
She ignores me and pushes forward with the reason she barged into my room. I take a mental note to be sure to lock my door at all times moving forward.
“We’re having dinner tonight. A family dinner.”
“Right.” I laugh humorlessly.
“Your father works extremely hard for this family. He’s coming home and we will sit together and share a meal. End of discussion.”
“Fine.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes. My father is the man who lets my mother do whatever the hell she pleases. He didn’t fight her on her choices that killed my brother and for that, he will always be in the villain column, just like my mother. He was never around growing up, and he’s still not. He’s strictly my sperm donor, at this point. I feel no love or connection to either of them. They burned that bridge years ago.
“I expect you to be dinner appropriate,” she sneers, eyeing the T-shirt I’m wearing.
“Yes, Mother,” I say sarcastically.
“And, Jordyn, leave your attitude in here.” She glares at me before turning on her heel and walking out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind her.
I’m fuming because Ryder and I were supposed to meet up at the movie theater tonight. Another failed attempt at seeing each other. This is getting old. I’m an adult, and my mother is ruling my life.
Standing, I stalk toward my bedroom door and slam it hard. The sound rattles the walls. Turning the lock, I rush back to my bed, dig under the covers for my secret phone, and text Ryder.
Me: My mom’s demanding a family dinner.
Ryder: When?
Me: Tonight.
Ryder: Can we meet after?
Me: I don’t know. Apparently, my father is going to be there, and my presence is required.
Ryder: I can sense the sarcasm, sweets. Keep me posted, and I’ll do whatever. I’ll come to Atlanta anyway and be close in case you need me.
Me: That might be a wasted trip. I hate for you to do that.
Ryder: Not a wasted trip if there’s a chance I get to see my girl.
Me: Anything from the PI?
Ryder: No. Nothing. If your mother did anything shady, she’s covered her tracks, and your father is squeaky clean as well.
Ryder: These things take time.
Me: I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. Let her control me.
Ryder: Are you safe, baby?
Me: I’m safe and annoyed.
Ryder: Can I call you?
Me: Give me a minute.
Jumping from the bed, I race to the bathroom and turn on the shower before hitting his name.
“Hey, sweets.”
“Hi.” Just the sound of his voice eases some of the turmoil that’s raging inside me.
“You’re safe?”
“I am. She’s not hurting me, just being a raging bitch.”
“That hurts too, sweets.” His tone is gentle, and if I thought it were possible, I’d say I just fell a little more in love with him for his concern and understanding.
“If that changes, we get you out.”
“She’s irritated with me. I’ve been talking back and refusing to be her puppet. As long as I don’t step too far out of line, I’ll be fine.” Though I do seriously dream of her being frustrated enough that she’ll kick me out.
“We know what she’s capable of, Jordyn.”
“Yeah, but as of right now, she thinks I’m playing her game,” I remind him.
“I know you want to fight for us, baby, but please be safe. Don’t piss her off too badly. Not until we have a better handle on things and know what we can use against her to break you free from her.”
“Thank you for sticking with me. For staying by my side through all of this. I was scared that night when you knocked on my hotel door. I was certain that would be the last time I ever saw you, yet you’re still here.”
“Always, sweets. Now, I hear the shower running. Take care of you. Do what your mother asks for now, and I’ll be in Atlanta in case you can get away. If not, it’s okay. I don’t want you feeling guilty. I’d do anything for five minutes with you. An hour's drive is nothing.”
