24. Chapter 24
Skye
S kye sat on the pink floral comforter adorning the twin bed, and stared into nothing longer than she should have.
She had the surreal sensation that this was all some elaborate prank and someone would soon to let her in on the joke.
Though she had no difficulty believing Dylan and her stepmother were capable of this, something so vile and repulsive that it turned her stomach.
Her instincts warred with each other, freeze or flight.
Either way, she had to find a way out of the house and warn Rabble. They’d already drugged her once. She had no doubt they would do it again, and whatever shady officiant Gayle paid off for this farce of a wedding, Skye didn’t trust they would care whether she gave verbal consent to be married.
Her eyes drifted to the vibrant pink garment bag hanging on the closet door.
She had worked with Elyza long enough to recognize the long, protective bag for formal gowns.
A bad feeling engulfed her. Driven by morbid curiosity, Skye took light steps to the closet and slowly, cautiously, pulled down the gaudy golden zipper.
She sucked in a sharp breath as inch by inch she exposed horrible heaping layers of taffeta and chiffon.
The monstrosity of long yards of fabric came together in sharp corners and puffy sleeves.
Light-headedness overcame her as she struggled to pull air into her lungs.
She wanted to scream and rage against the hideous creation, to burn the damn thing.
Skye slowly backed away from the dress as if it could grow fangs and rip into her.
The window began looking more and more like a viable option, her only real option.
She fantasized ripping the white gown into strips, tying them together, and using the makeshift rope to repel down the two-story drop.
The beginning of an insane plan began to form in her mind and she shoved it to the back of her brain to mull-over.
Terror and years of obedience, to a fault, warred with her desire for freedom and her knowledge that none of this was okay. Worry gnawed at her, and her teeth tore nervously at her bottom lip. She had never been the type of person to choose fight or even flight. No, she always froze. Just like now.
“Think, Skye,” she muttered to herself as she paced, keeping to the opposite side of the room and far away from that hideous dress as possible.
Two days ago, Skye wouldn’t have doubted Rabble would come for her, no matter where she was in the world.
But after she ran away from him, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Rabble might be lost to her completely now.
Not to mention she’d ignored every single one of his phone calls, text messages, and voicemails.
Maybe he wouldn’t even care to look for her.
Their friends had enough going on with the upcoming parade and the concern for Bekah’s safety. The likelihood of anyone knowing she’d been taken against her will was slim, and that knowledge alone was enough to tear down a few more blocks of her resolve and sanity.
The door clicked open, and Skye whirled around, hurrying to put as much distance between her and the intruder as she could. Dylan strutted through the door, his self-assurance proceeding him like the peacocks at the animal sanctuary, preening and full of themselves.
He leaned against the door, making sure it closed securely behind him. Fear shivered down her spine. She had never seen this particular look on his face before. The gleam in his eye was pure satisfaction at seeing his prey cornered and helpless.
Skye pulled herself up to her full height and squared her shoulders to make herself look bigger, more like a threat.
She wished she could meet his eyes, to stare him down with all of her fury, but she couldn’t quite force herself to meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds.
Long moments passed in silence as they sized each other up.
Whatever Dylan saw made him smirk a little more.
He was nearly licking his lips in excitement.
“I hope you like the dress.” His gaze flicked to the garment bag that hung open, the poofy skirt threatening to spill out and pool on the floor.
Skye’s face twisted. “It’s awful.”
As Dylan drew his eyebrows together, his lips twisted in disdain. “I chose it myself.”
“Well, it’s horrendous.” Everything else she wanted to say wouldn’t quite convey the hatred she had for him and his dress.
Dylan’s smile boarded on a grimace, “I know you aren’t in love with this idea right now, but you’ll come around. I’ll be a good husband. I’ll help you accept it, to take on your role, and we’ll be truly happy. Did you honestly expect me to walk away for good? You need me, Skye.”
Skye’s blood boiled and her ability to hold her tongue vanished, “I’m not struggling, you imbecile, and yes! I thought I’d never see you again. That’s what normal people do when they break up.”
She regretted her outburst almost immediately. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of her answers.
“So na?ve. You can’t escape the life you were born into. Seeing you for the first time at college, knowing I needed to pursue you was painful. I must say though…” He leered at her, making her feel exposed in her leggings and tie-dyed T-shirt, “I warmed up to the idea of marrying you quite quickly.”
Dylan exhaled a small sigh and wrangled his expression back to bland disinterest. “You and I are both just pawns. The difference is I’ve accepted my position, and I don’t think the life we’ll build together will be that awful at all.”
Like oil-slicked claws, he raked his gaze over her, and the filth of his words coating her skin made her want a shower.
“I’ve never cared about my father’s job. He wanted to be mayor, not me. He and Gayle can scheme all they want; I want no part in this.”
“Too bad, sweet-cheeks.” He stalked toward her, caging her against the wall with his arms, the smell of her stepmother’s pot roast and sweet tea on his breath.
“The sooner you accept your role in this family, the better. Between your father and mine, they’ve built up a little political empire.
They have plans already in motion. The next step is you putting on that white dress, and we get married.
The officiant will be here within the hour.
And Skye, you know what I’m most excited about? ”
“You’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not.” Her voice trembled, and she hated herself for it.
He leaned down, his lips brushing the curve of her neck, upward, making her shiver. His hot breath rushed out against her ear. “Taking that wedding dress off.”
Skye didn’t think; she just reacted. One moment Dylan’s mouth and words were terrorizing her. The next moment, he kneeled before her on the floor, his hands tucked tightly around his privates. Her knee smarted a bit from where she struck him.
“You bitch!” he screeched, reaching for her.
She scrambled out of the way and backed toward the window. Gingerly, Dylan rose to his feet and limped out the door, slamming it behind him. She realized two things at once: She really was going to throw up, and climbing out of the window was the only chance she had to escape.