Chapter Thirty One
Maggie
Tonight is Asher’s induction celebration. He is officially an Elder of the Brethren.
Poor soulless bastard.
Okay, calling him a soulless bastard might be a little much. He clearly cares for Sky. I mean, he put her through hell, but over the last few months, he’s made it up in a big way, and now the two are practically inseparable. At least when her other four, count them, four , boyfriends, aren’t hogging her. She’s getting dicked down so much I honestly hardly see her. Don’t blame her, though. Who has time to even breathe, let alone hang out when you’re full of that much cock?
Okay, okay. I’m done with the jokes.
For now.
None of the Elders are here yet, traditionally so. Being the ostentatious pricks they are, they love to make an entrance. So, the rest of us common folk are here at Putnam Manor, waiting for our glorious lords to grace us with their presence. Bridgette and I have managed to avoid all eye contact while she and Brad go off to mingle. I try to split off as well when my mother catches my arm, hauling me into her side.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks as she and Harry walk on either side of me.
“Oh, you know, here and there,” I say.
My mother shoots me an irritated look, all while maintaining a smile. It’s amazing she can even make facial expressions with how much plastic surgery she’s had. Medical journals should document this phenomenon.
“Cut the sarcastic shit for one night, okay?” she snaps, finishing off with a sickly sweet tone.
I go to give her a smart ass remark, because she said nothing about being a smart ass, when I see our destination. Ah, fuck. Here we go again.
“Bethany, Nicholas. Milesss,” my mother practically croons as we approach the Reynold’s family.
They all smile at us, Nicholas and Harry shaking hands, my mother and Bethany exchanging air kisses, and Miles and I stare at each other. He doesn’t look nearly as enthused to see me as he usually is, which is progress, I think. Maybe he’s gotten the hint that I’m not even remotely interested and will fuck right off. It will save me the headache of disrespectfully declining the match.
Like I even have a choice, though.
“Margret,” he says stiffly.
“Miles,” I return.
My mother nudges me in the side, and I paste on a smile as I look at him.
“Tell me, how is your boat? Still above sea?”
He looks excited for a moment before his eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Do you actually want to know, or are you just making small talk?”
“How could I make small talk when we’re talking about a boat that is forty-eight feet long!” I say with exaggerated enthusiasm.
The idiot completely misses my tone. He grins and nods.
“Exactly. I can’t wait to take you out on it, it will take your breath away.”
“Just like you do?” I ask with a flutter of my eyelashes.
His grin widens like he’s just won the lottery as he looks to his parents, who are frowning at us. I flick my gaze to my mother and Harry, both absolutely fuming and shooting daggers from their eyes.
“Would you excuse us for one moment?” my mother says before digging her sharp nails into my arm, yanking me out of the room and towards the kitchen.
Fuck. I’m wearing a sleeved dress, you wouldn’t think it would hurt this much, but she’s got goddamn daggers for nails. Well, they are mesh see-through sleeves, but still. I refused the peachy colored dress my mother had set out for me today and settled on a green dress. She started to argue with me when I rolled up my sleeves, revealing the cigarette burns Harry littered over my arms. She stared at them before back to me, her eyes taking stock of several angry red burns before she swallowed and turned away.
Yeah, the bitch knows what her husband is doing to her daughter, and she doesn’t give a fuck.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” my mother snaps.
“So much. Where do we begin?”
Her eyes widen with anger as she clenches her teeth together.
“You are making an embarrassment of this family and of Miles,” Harry chimes in with an authoritative tone that sends a chill down my back. It takes everything in me not to show it, though.
“He embarrasses himself. Have you seen the guy? He’s a fucking moron,” I scoff.
I’ve got to be honest; I’m on one tonight and I have no doubt that I’ll pay for it later. I live my life somewhere dancing the line of saying exactly what I feel and suffering brutal consequences when I do. You’d think those consequences would get me to shut my mouth, and sometimes it does, but fuck. Sometimes, I just can’t help it. Can’t stay silent or subservient as they auction me off to some idiot who could never meet my emotional or physical needs. Not like any of the arranged marriages have anything to do with the women’s wants or needs. It’s always centered around the men, of course. We’re nothing more than heir-birthing holes that they use up before they take on a mistress or five.
My mother’s nose comes just inches from mine as she sneers down at me.
“You will knock off this attitude or so help me,” she snarls. “You have the audacity to disrespect one of Harry’s business partner’s sons? You’re lucky we’re even finding a match for you! Left to your own devices, you’d be living on the street within a month.”
I shrug like I couldn’t care less.
“I’m sure I could find a kind woman to let me stay in her bed for a night or two.”
My mother’s eyes practically go black. Oop. Too far.
The slap is harder than I expect, my cheeks heating up from the sting of it. Fuck. That was a good one. My mother has always slapped me around, and it used to break my heart, but once I realized she didn’t love me and I wasn’t required to love her, things got easier. She wasn’t scary anymore; she was just a bitch. Harry, though…the way he’s looking at me promises that particular comment will be brought up in our next ‘therapy’ session. Goddamnit. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
Harry looks like he’s ready to start the session now before a figure steps in through the side door, a thunderous voice practically shaking the room around us.
“That’s enough,” Asher snaps.
My mother and Harry both startle, eyes wide with shock as they recognize the young future ‘king.’
“Mr. Putnam,” Harry says as my mother keeps her head bowed.
“What’s going on here?” he asks as he steps in between me and my parents.
See? I’m coming around to Asher. He’s decent when he feels like it. He’s not as welcoming or friendly as Liam, Wesley, or even Ronan, but he’s getting there.
“Just a little family matter. Nothing to bother you with. Congratulations!” My mother smiles as she looks up at him.
“I am concerned,” Asher responds, leveling them both with a lethal look. “I’m concerned you just struck my wife’s best friend. Lay another finger on her, and I’ll have you buried six feet under before you can even move your bought and paid for lips,” he snarls into my mother’s face.
I wish I had a video going so I could re-watch over and over again the sight of my mother shrinking.
“It won’t happen again,” Harry intervenes. “Our apologies for bringing this ugliness to your party.”
“See to it that it doesn’t,” Asher says, offering his arm to me while keeping his eyes on my parents.
He guides me out of the kitchen, pausing in the hallway when I pull my arm away from him. For some reason, all of a sudden, I feel extremely embarrassed. Ashamed. I can’t even meet his eyes right now.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“No problem,” he says as he begins scanning the room, presumably looking for Skyla.
He moves to take a step when I reach out and grab his arm, lifting my eyes to his.
“Don’t tell Skyla, okay? She’d only worry.”
He stares at me for a second before he nods. He takes a step before pausing, looking over his shoulder at me.
“If one of them is leaving those burns on your arms, all you have to do is say the word and they’ll be gone.”
I frown at that.
“What? You’re just going to kill my mother and stepfather because I asked?”
“No,” he says. “I’d kill them if Skyla asked, and if she knew you were being abused, she would. That is, if Vincent didn’t get to them first. He just fucking loves tending to Skyla’s requests before the rest of us have a chance to breathe,” he grumbles with a shake of his head before he’s sliding into the main room.
My mother and Harry, at some point, emerged from the kitchen and took up conversation with the Reynolds. They are talking in hushed tones that I don’t bother to make out. As my eyes move through the room, they land on Brad chatting up a divorcee in her late fifties. I can’t help but laugh at the way the woman rests her hand on his chest and smiles up at him. She’s gonna eat him alive.
Approaching the Reynolds family is Thomas Booth, with Bridgette as usual, tucked into his arm. They are practically inseparable these days, but based on Bridgette’s expression, I’d say it isn’t as wanted as she lets on. She puts on a good show typically, always smiling and leaning into him. Now it just looks like she’s leaning on him. Her feet sway slightly with each step, her eyes hazed over as she clutches a glass of champagne like it’s her lifeline.
Shaking my head, I sigh. What is happening to her? She’s falling apart.
The other day, when she apologized to Skyla, I was actually proud of her. She seemed like she was trying to turn over a new leaf. Show others the side of her that I’ve always known was there. Now, she seems worse than ever. Instead of ruining everyone else’s lives, though, she’s self-destructing.
A small wave catches my attention from the other side of the room, and I see Maryia gesturing me over, wearing a show-stopping blue dress. Glancing around, I decide there is no harm in approaching her to talk. I weave through people and when I stop in front of her. She smiles.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I say with a smirk as I pull her in for a ‘platonic’ hug, where I take the opportunity to whisper into her ear before I nip it.
“Are you trying to turn me on in this thing?” I ask as I pull away.
“Depends. Is it working?”
I allow my eyes to skate over her as I sink my teeth into my lower lip and nod.
“Fuck, yes it is.”
We both laugh as she clutches her purse in front of her and looks up at me shyly.
“So, my parents left. I don’t have a ride. Think you could give me one?”
I smirk. “Depends. What kind of ride we’re talking?” I tease.
A devilish look enters her eyes.
“Both would be lovely.”
“I’m nothing if not accommodating,” I say as I loop my arm through hers, the way any two friends would, before escorting her out of the house.
I know Harry and my mother won’t say anything about me leaving early. At least not tonight. Asher dropping that little bombshell about me and Skyla probably left their heads reeling. I never told them about Sky. I knew they’d try to find a way to use our friendship to their advantage. They both have taken so much from me, I wouldn’t allow them to take the only true friendship I’ve been able to have.
My eyes move around the room, looking for said best friend but coming up empty.
“What are you looking for? I’m right here,” Maryia teases.
I laugh and nod. “Just looking for Sky. I wanted to say hi, but she must have left already,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.
We step out of the house and wait by the valet when my car pulls up. He nods to me and I thank him as we slip inside and take off.
“What’s the deal with Skyla?” Maryia asks, an unfamiliar heaviness to her normally soft tone.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she clearly is into you. Isn’t she dating Asher and Liam, too?”
And then some.
Of course, I don’t say that part because it’s not my business to tell. Not that I don’t trust Maryia, I just…it’s not my love life. Wait.
“Skyla is not into me.” I laugh. “Trust me.”
Maryia gives me a dubious look.
“That’s not what it looks like to me.”
“Well, then you need your eyes checked,” I tease, though my smile fades when she doesn’t smile.
“Wait, are you being serious?” I ask.
“Yeah. You guys spend all your time together. I see the way she looks at you, Maggie,” she defends, her words laced with jealousy.
“Aw, is someone getting jealous?” I ask with a smile.
Finally, one slips through her expression as she sighs.
“I don’t know.”
Laughing, I reach a hand over and grip her thigh.
“Trust me, sweetheart. Skyla has absolutely no interest in me, and I don’t have any in her. We are best friends. That’s it.”
“You promise?” she asks, vulnerability bleeding all over her words.
I frown at that. “Yeah. You’re my girl,” I say as I squeeze her thigh.
She seems to settle at that, nodding as we cruise down the streets of Salem. I don’t mention that I absolutely tried and failed at getting with Skyla. Dick was on her brain from the start, I never had a chance. I know saying any of that would just make Maryia feel more insecure, and I don’t want her to have this weird jealousy thing towards my best friend. I want us all to be friends. It honestly surprised me how quickly I’ve developed feelings for Maryia. She’s so kind and sweet and beautiful. She makes me happy, and I think I make her happy. Our relationship is simple, easy, just the way I need it to be.
Maryia nods for a moment.
“My parents said they were going to be looking into matches for me soon. That they hope to marry me by this summer.”
My mouth twists up at that as I nod.
“Then we will deal with that as it comes. I mean, we both know what our future holds. On a piece of paper, we might belong to someone, but right here…” I say as I place a hand over my chest. “That is of our own free will.”
Maryia nods before she laughs. “That was kind of cheesy.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help but chuckle as well. It’s true, though! We might not be able to control who we are married off to, but we will always get a choice in who we love.