Chapter Twenty-Three
Romy
I ’m surprised to say I’m really enjoying this event.
Everything’s so lovely and the people are nice.
Maybe it’s the wine making me feel so warm and giddy. Maybe it’s Caius.
Bastian is holding court, telling one of his impressive stories, and we all listen with rapt attention. Megan, beside me, stares at him as if he hangs the moon. My heart clenches and I try to imagine her being my sister-in-law one day. I would be a great aunt.
Something flashes in the deep recesses of my mind, but I find it distracting. I want to continue listening to Bastian’s story of how he convinced the Prime Minister of Canada to allow VEIL to be their primary news provider. VEIL CAN, as it’s now known as, became Canada’s most trusted news source. Pride at my brother’s achievements makes my skin feel as if it’s glowing.
Wait.
I’m reminded of one of the times Caius drugged me. Everything felt too happy. Too delicious. My stomach roils at the thought of him spiking my wine. I don’t think he had time to, and I’d watched the bartender open the bottle.
No, he didn’t drug me.
In fact, he hasn’t done so since we left Lake Erie. Since then, my brain has felt more clear than ever before.
Until tonight.
Something’s wrong.
Bastian, upon seeing the frown on my face, narrows his eyes and says, “Isn’t President Huxley great? He sure knows how to throw a party.”
I smile and nod because…why?
That guy gives me the creeps.
He’s not great.
Rubbing at my temple, I try to clear the confusion in my head. It’s not working. I find myself trying to remember why President Huxley was a creep. Is it me making up stories again?
No.
Think.
Though I can hear the soft hum of voices, the music playing in the background, and the occasional laugh that stands out from the overall buzz of noise, it all comes together to create a relaxing, lulling sensation that soothes me.
I close my eyes in hopes to dig my thoughts out of my muddled mind.
“What a pretty doll.”
I stare at her shiny, golden hair and nod in agreement. Bastian thinks dolls are silly because he’s a boy and doesn’t play with toys anymore. But, even still, my brother gave me this doll for my birthday. It was my favorite of all my gifts.
“I hear you’ve been having bad dreams.”
That’s what Daddy calls them. Bad dreams. Dreams don’t hurt you, though.
“What would you say if I told you I could make them all disappear?”
This has my attention. I jerk my head up, curious about what that could mean.
The smile I’m given is wide and friendly, but it makes my skin all itchy. I scratch at my arm until I’m made to stop.
I don’t like when people touch me.
Only hugs from Bastian are what I like. He keeps me safe.
“Your mind is telling you lies,” I’m told with a hint of sadness. “Your mind isn’t behaving, sweet one.”
I don’t like that. Sweet one. It makes me even more itchy, but I hold back from scratching so I don’t get fussed at again.
“A nice lady I know is going to be the person you talk to. After we work hard to fix your misbehaving mind. Understand?”
Not really. I nod quickly anyway.
“Good girl. You’re going to get through this. I’ll make sure of it.” I’m then patted on the head like I’m a puppy. I want to squirm away from the large hand that nearly covers my entire head. “You remind me of someone I loved dearly.” The sadness returns. “She’s gone now.”
Did she run away?
Did she die?
Maybe she didn’t like to be pat on the head and told her brain is a liar.
The burst of anger makes my skin hot. I’ve learned to hold in these bursts because if I get upset and have a fit, Dad will spank me. I don’t like getting spankings because it makes Bastian’s face crumple in a really awful way that makes me want to cry. It hurts worse than the spanking itself.
“She used to make that same face.” A warm chuckle follows those words. “It’s okay, sweet one. You’re not in trouble. Remember, I’m here to fix you. That’s what I do and I’m really good at it.”
A woman in a white dress and white hat approaches from behind us. When she comes into view, I have the urge to run. Running will get me in trouble, though.
“Keep her distracted,” the woman says. “It’ll only take a sec.”
What will take a sec?
“Did your doll come with this pretty dress?” I’m asked, pulling my attention from the woman to the doll. “This doesn’t look like any I’ve seen in the department stores.”
I note the pink lace over the doll’s silky pink dress. It’s so pretty. Bastian uses his allowance to buy special handmade dresses for all my dolls. They’re so special and—
“Ouch!” I cry out, jerking away from the woman.
She pulls away, a big shot in her hand just like the ones the doctors give me at my checkup. I look down at my arm and a tiny dot of blood forms.
“There we go,” the woman says. “You did well. Let’s get you a pretty pink bandage to cover your boo-boo.”
Fat tears well in my eyes as she quickly places a Band-Aid with Barbie’s face on the blood dot. I feel as if they played a trick on me. My doll’s pretty dress was used to distract me from the shot.
Within seconds, I start to feel sleepy.
“You must be getting tired,” I’m told after the woman leaves. “Come now, sweet one. Let’s have you lie down over here.”
“Daddy?” I croak out, voice small and terrified.
“He’ll be back in a bit. Up you go.”
I’m lifted onto a bed with a sheet of paper across it. It crinkles as I stretch out. My doll is given back to me and I clutch it tight. Every part of my body feels mushy like spaghetti.
A song is hummed to me, but I don’t recognize it. I stare as my arm is pulled away from my doll and then a belt-looking thing is tied around my wrist. It’s too tight, which makes my hand feel weird.
I open my mouth to ask to be let go, but no words come out. I’m only able to watch as the hand with the doll is also strapped down. The doll then falls to the ground with a soft clatter.
I try to scream.
Nothing but silence.
“Romy.”
I shudder as I’m jolted from the past to the present, quickly becoming aware of the people around me. It’s then that a wonderful scent fills my nostrils, grounding me.
Caius.
I’m physically turned to face him. His gaze is filled with worry, which makes my heart race. He covers both my ears with his palms, dulling the sounds of everything so that I can focus only on him.
Slowly at first, like a trickle, and then crashing like a massive waterfall, awareness washes over me. My skin is cold and I feel nauseous. Terror claws at my throat.
What’s happening?
His dark eyes bore into mine, imploring me to focus on him. I ignore everything to lock eyes with him. The things I feel for him go beyond physical or emotional. I’m connected to him in ways I can’t explain.
I give him a wobbly smile as tears form. Something akin to relief floods his features. Then he jerks me to him for a tight embrace.
“Tune it all out,” he growls into my ear. “Stay alert. It’s the music.”
It’s the music?
My flesh prickles with realization. I knew something was off, but I was confused as to what it was. Now that I’m paying attention, I realize they’re playing the same song. It’s the same song since we walked in. Over and over and over. For some reason, that gives me the creeps. For good reason too, since Caius is visibly freaked out about it.
It’s so obvious now.
Carefully constructed tunes meant for something sinister.
The notes have a dark, deceptive feel to them that makes me want to stuff my ears with cotton, never to hear them again.
I want to leave.
Now.
I look past Caius to see everyone around us are slightly swaying to the music as if they’re all under some weird spell.
What is happening?
“Do you trust me?” Caius asks, resting his forehead on mine.
I nod without hesitation. Somewhere along the way, I began to trust this man who took me from my life and started dictating my every action. We fell into this realness that we are right now. It’s strange how we got here, but we’re here nonetheless.
“Attention, everyone,” Caius says, pulling away from me. He puts his fingers into his mouth and whistles loud. “Hi. Over here.”
A few people jerk their heads our way, confusion brimming in their gazes. Others remain lost in La-La Land.
“It’s not enough,” he rumbles. “Stay right here.”
He rushes through the crowd and returns a few seconds later with a spoon and wineglass.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
This has more people waking up from their haziness.
He continues to clang on the glass until some people start to get agitated. Then he hands both the spoon and glass to some random guy nearby. The man takes it, startled.
“May I have your attention?” Caius barks out, flashing the crowd a ridiculously handsome grin I have never seen. It makes my blood heat.
“There are few things in life a man like me yearns for,” he says, voice booming over the mesmerizing music. “If I want something, I buy it.” His stare bores into Bastian, who looks on with a disgusted expression. “There are some things money can’t buy, though. Some things, you have to earn.”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this whole speech, but it’s working to snap people out of their daze. I just want to get out of this place.
He shoves his hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a ring box. My heart flutters in my chest.
This is an act.
I’m to play along.
It’s our escape.
But a handsome man who drives me wild and likes to save me from peril is holding a velvet black ring box. It could only mean one thing.
I watch with pure fascination as he kneels in front of me on one knee. When I was a girl, I played out this scenario with my Barbie dolls hundreds of times. It was always so romantic and Barbie always said yes.
This is a thousand times more exciting.
Caius is a dirty, sexier version of Ken.
And this isn’t happening to my doll. It’s happening to me.
It’s an act, Romy.
Don’t get caught up in the lie.
I’m a good pretender, though.
“Romy Langston, love, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Caius’s smile is tender and it seems so real. Like he genuinely wants me as his. We’re having fun bedroom times and finding common ground, but he doesn’t truly want to marry me.
I’m only eighteen.
A college kid.
And he’s rich, older, sophisticated.
My captor.
All the thoughts racing through my head don’t make any sense. They certainly don’t help make any decisions.
The decision is already made.
For fake or for real.
The answer is…
“Yes,” I say with real tears in my eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Caius Crowne.”
He slides an exquisite, sparkly engagement ring on my left ring finger. While I was trying on shoes earlier today, he must’ve dropped into a jewelry store to buy it.
“Thank God,” Caius growls as he stands back up. “Kiss me, love.”
His hands slide into my hair and I press my newly bedazzled hand upon his chest to feel his heart thundering in his chest. Our kiss is one for the storybooks.
The kiss is real.
We’re real.