Page 61 of Scarred King
The garage door rises, and the jeep enters. One of the bodyguards opens the door for me.
“See you later,” Ralph says just before I get out and the jeep leaves the garage. Why would I see him later? I think, confused. Maybe Liam has decided that my sick leave is over? I am frustrated by this possibility. I tap in the code and go inside.
Liam is sitting on the sofa, dressed in a fancy black suit and talking on his cellphone. The battle between my mind and my body grows intense and a warm shiver travels down my spine.
“You’re late.” He sounds annoyed, and I shrug my shoulders indifferently.
“I’m going upstairs to study.” I start up the staircase.
“Stop.” He raises his voice and I freeze on the spot. He ends the call and walks over to the kitchen counter. “We don’t have much time. Go take a shower, we’re going out tonight.”
“Going out?” I ask surprised. “Us?”
“You heard me the first time.” He is annoyed.
“I don’t want to go out with you,” I continue up the stairs and he follows me quickly and grabs my elbow.
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to.” He raises his voice. “I’m stating a fact. Those bastard Italians are spreading rumors that they made you disappear from the bar and that you’re buried in some dump. That’s a fatal blow to our reputation and it requires serious retribution.” I grow pale and he continues, “I’m not going to fan the fire any higher than it’s already burning… especially to defend the honor of a dead woman who’s actually breathing and right here next to me.”
“Maybe it’s better if everyone thinks I’m dead…” I stutter. “That way, no one will be looking for me and I can go back to my life—”
“Elena!” he smacks the handrail and I fall fearfully silent. “Stop being such a spoiled brat and think only about yourself. There’s a war going on out there and you keep chattering away about your perfect life.”
“I hate you right now.” I smack the handrail as well.
“I don’t care.” He lowers his voice and takes one step down. “Go and take a shower. It won’t look good if we’re late.”
His answer hurts me. I realize that I have no choice but to do as he says. “I don’t have any dresses here,” I try to get out of it again.
“Carly will be here to take care of you soon.” He turns around and continues down the rest of the stairs. “Make it quick.”
I go into the bathroom and wash myself. A nice calm week has to end exactly the opposite of it. In no time, I am back in the scary, dark world. I’ll get through tonight and find a solution. How is it that I haven’t yet found the formula that will set me free? I go into the bedroom wearing a bathrobe, and Carly is already sitting there with a big suitcase. She takes out some dresses and places them carefully on the bed.
“Hon, we don’t have much time.” She comes to me and asks me to take off my robe.
“Where are we going, anyway? A strip club? A brothel?” I ask contemptuously.
“To the Jews’ wedding party,” she replies and picks up one of the dresses.
“The Jews?” I ask in the same tone. “Who talks like that? Who categorizes people by their religion or where they come from?”
“Nature,” she answers simply, and when I bend down, she pulls a puffy pink dress over my head.
“Are you crazy?” I shout when I look at myself in the mirror. “I look like a scary piece of candy!” She giggles, takes the dress off and puts a different one on me.
“Absolutely not.” I pull the deep neckline of the red dress up. “I look like a top of the line hooker in this.”
“But Elena,” she smiles calmly, “everyone will be dressed like that. You don’t want to stand out.”
I cross my hands over my chest. “You go with him, then.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” She looks at the dresses inside the suitcase with frustration. “Everyone will be there tonight. The Italians, the Russians, the Poles…” she takes out another dress. “And you need to look respectable and try not to embarrass him.”
“Why would I embarrass him?” I am insulted by what she just said.
“Because you have a tendency to say exactly what’s on your mind,” she laughs. “You need to understand that the rules are different in our world.” She holds up a lilac strapless dress proudly. “I think this will look perfect on you.”
She unzips it and I get into the dress, thinking about what she said. “Take a deep breath,” she orders and when I do, she pulls up the zipper and I'm trapped inside the long gown. "Perfect" she claps her hands cheerfully and I turn around to the mirror.