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With that, she flounced out of my room, a pep in her step, quietly shutting my bedroom door behind her.
I rushed to my bathroom, emptying my stomach of everything I’d eaten in the past few hours.
God, if you’re real and you really care about your people, you’ll stop this, I silently begged.
* * *
I wasn’t sure God cared. Or maybe he just didn’t exist. Because if he created the world, why did this kind of horror exist? Why had he put temptation in front of Eve?
Everything happening was leading me to question everything I knew.
I swallowed thickly as my father opened the door, revealing Amadeus. He was dressed in a pair of pressed, black slacks and a plain black button-down shirt that fit him just perfectly, hinting at the muscle tone beneath his shirt. He shook my father’s hand, and my body heated when I remembered just where those fingers had been last night on our “date”.
I kept my eyes on the floor, not wanting my father to see my reaction because Iknewthe conflict I was in was written all over my face. I was expressive—too expressive sometimes. I used to think I had a good handle on it, but Father knew me too well.
It was honestly a miracle he hadn’t figured it out last night when he asked me how our date had gone. I’d flushed, stuttering and stammering as I spewed the lie Amadeus told me to tell: that we’d gone out to eat in the next city over at a fancy restaurant, where I’d had a light meal, and after, we’d strolled along the street, learning about each other. Father thought I’d just become infatuated when I stammered and told me to get my reactions under control, but that was it.
He hadn’t figured out that Amadeus hadtouchedme last night. He hadn’t figured out that I’d orgasmed for the first time, that Amadeus had chased me through a cornfield, awakening something dark and sinister inside of me that I was desperately trying to ignore.
Because I was a good girl—a Christian girl. And girls like me didn’t feel things like this.
They didn’tcravethe depraved side of a man like Amadeus.
Or those wicked fingers of his.
“You ready to go?” Amadeus asked me, his deep voice sliding around me like razor-edged silk.
I nodded my head, keeping my head down as I followed him out of the house. He quietly shut the front door behind us and placed his hand on my lower back. I jumped, my head jerking up, my eyes clashing with his. My breath hitched in my throat at the dark, angry look in his eyes.
“W—What—” I whispered as he yanked open his car door.
“Get in the car,” he growled.
I slowly slid into the car, and he quickly shut the door. By the time he rounded the hood of his car, I was already clicking my seat belt, my hands trembling. Why was he so angry? Had I done something to piss him off?
He pulled off, driving silently, not even the radio playing anything. He stopped about fifteen minutes outside of town and pulled off on the side of the road before he grabbed a ring box from his middle console. My lips trembled, tears welling in my eyes.
He was really doing this. He was really planning on destroying my entire life and making it so much worse than it already was.
Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why did I have to be his next target? His next victim?
He yanked the ring out of the box before grabbing my left hand, sliding the glittering, diamond ring onto my finger. I sniffled, hating every moment of this.
“Why are you angry?” I croaked when he tossed the ring box into the backseat before shoving open his car door.
He stepped out and slammed the car door shut behind him, ignoring me. I scrambled out of the car as well, terrified to be trapped in there. He lit a cigarette, turning his angry eyes on me. I backed up a step, my heart knocking hard against my breastbone. He was truly terrifying when he was furious. Something dark and sinister lingered in his gaze. It was like watching a snake getting ready to attack, and I was afraid to make a single move in fear of being attacked.
“Our fathers have already secured a wedding date for Sunday,” he snarled, “which means I can’t fucking get out of this.”
Ah, so it came back to bite him in the butt, so to say.
A humorless laugh spilled past my lips. I fell back against the car, hysterically laughing now all while I cried at the mess he’d gotten us into. Hot tears tracked down my cheeks, tasting salty on my lips. But I couldn’t stop laughing.
We were both so screwed. He’d well and truly fucked both of us over.
“The fuck are you laughing for?!” he roared.
I looked up at him through my glassy eyes. “You were so hell-bent on ruining the good girl and getting between my legs that you not only screwed me over, Amadeus, but you screwed yourself over, too.”
