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Pretty Little Things
  • Текст добавлен: 17 октября 2016, 01:42

Текст книги "Pretty Little Things"


Автор книги: Teresa Mummert



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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

“Ah…” I groaned over the music. I imagined her moaning my name, begging for me to come in her pretty little mouth.

“Colin?” Annie’s voice came from inside my room.

“Fuck,” I growled, but I was too close to be able to stop myself as my stomach muscles tightened.

“Colin?” she called again as she got closer, and it sent me over the edge.

“Fuck, Annie,” I panted as I came, struggling to catch my breath as I stared at her emerald eyes through the fogged glass door. She didn’t move for a moment, her lips parted in complete shock and breathing as erratically as me.

“Your shirt,” she whispered as it fell from her fingertips, pooling at her feet, and her eyes locked on mine.

“Leave,” I barked. My words jarred her, and she ran from my room.

I took my time drying off and getting dressed, not wanting to look Annie in the eye after what she had witnessed. I couldn’t get the image of her out of my head.

I stumbled down the stairs in a black T-shirt and jeans, greeted by Amanda at the base of the steps. We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks. I kissed her cheeks as my eyes searched out Annie. She was standing in the doorway of the dining room wearing the low-cut purple V-neck from last night. Her blatant act of defiance struck a nerve deep inside of me, and she knew it. She was fucking with me.

“I’d watch for pieces of glass in your eggs. Grace isn’t very happy with you,” Annie teased, and I was relieved she wasn’t traumatized by what she had witnessed moments before.

“I told your sister I’d help her cover up that bruise after we ate. She really shouldn’t be allowed to walk in heels.” Amanda stood on her toes to kiss my cheek as I glanced behind me at Annie again, with her tarnished complexion and her still bare feet from last night.

“Just don’t paint her up. She doesn’t need all that shit on her face.” I tried to keep the harshness from my tone, but when it came to Annie, my judgment became clouded.

Amanda smacked my chest playfully, but she always wore more makeup than I liked. Most of it stemmed from her being self-conscious. Not that it mattered. She suited my needs.

I walked around Amanda and sat down at the large, ornately carved dining room table that looked like something right out of a castle. Connor was frivolous with his cash, something I would have to spend years correcting should his fortune ever get handed down to his pretend children.

Grace set my plate down with more force than necessary as she narrowed her eyes, accentuating the crow’s-feet in her olive skin.

“Grace,” I called after her as she retreated into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It slipped.”

“Mm-hmm,” was all she said as she disappeared. At nearly sixty years old, she had no patience for my bullshit. Her snow-colored hair was pinned up in a neat bun. She wore a gray dress made out of what looked like burlap, with a white apron tied around her waist. I’d never seen her in anything else.

The woman must have aged twenty years from putting up with our bullshit. Connor had hired her only a week after he took us in; never having children of his own, he wanted Annie to have a woman around. Grace was more of a grandmother figure, and she played the role like one off a sitcom.

Amanda sat down beside me, her denim skirt riding up her thighs as she stole a piece of my toast and took a bite. Her hair was even blonder than the last time I’d seen her, and I wondered how many more trips to the salon before it was whiter than Grace’s. “I love that shirt,” Amanda said to Annie. I couldn’t help but laugh as I glanced over at her, and she winked, proving her point about my choice of women.

I folded my hands in front of me and looked to Annie, who dropped her fork on her plate and clasped her hands together, annoyed but knowing better than to say so. This was a ritual that carried over from our past and was so ingrained in who I was that I would continue to do it, regardless of my feelings, or lack thereof, toward the commune.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful food and shelter you have provided us. We ask you, Lord, to help Annie fight back against the evil staircase and to protect her from any other inanimate objects that may bring harm her way, and Lord, please bless her with some clothes that actually fit her.”

“Asshole,” Annie groaned, and I tried to fight back a smile, clearing my throat as I opened my eyes. I shoved a bite of scrambled eggs in my mouth, relieved that Grace hadn’t actually put any glass shards in my food, although I couldn’t have blamed her.

I could hear Connor coughing off in the distance as he made his way to the first floor, the stairs creaking under his expanding weight. We glanced back at him as he entered the dining room, taking a seat at the head of the table. My eyes drifted over his charcoal suit, and I shook my head. “You’re going to work?” I asked, knowing he was too sick, but the man had priorities, I had to give him that.

He cleared his throat as Grace brought in a mug of coffee and set it down in front of him. “Thank you, dear.” He picked it up and took a sip before his eyes landed on mine. “Someone needs to pay for all of this stuff. I have cases that are piling up.” But I knew he had become obsessive with his work when his wife had passed away nearly twenty years ago. He had confessed to me one night, not long after we arrived, that helping others helped ebb the guilt from not being able to do more for her as cancer slowly destroyed their lives.

“It wouldn’t kill you to take a few days off, Connor. Enjoy life a little.” I took a sip of my orange juice, my head still throbbing from my hangover. I’d tried, unsuccessfully, for months to get him to take a vacation. He deserved it for putting up with us for the last few years. The man was a saint. I wanted to help him in any way I could, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll be in Jackson for Annie’s birthday. I need you to keep an eye on the house. Don’t let things get too out of hand.” He changed the subject as the girls continued to eat their food.

“I’m sure Grace will keep everyone in line. No one can put the fear of God into someone like she can,” I joked.

“Except for you.” Connor was expressionless as he glanced at me over the rim of his cup, and my eyes narrowed. He didn’t know the half of it.

“I don’t get paid nearly enough for that task,” Grace teased as she sat in one of the empty chairs with a bowl of oatmeal for herself and a freshly sliced peach on a saucer. “I’ll be going with him to make sure he’s getting plenty of rest and taking his medicine. I better not come back to a mess, ya hear?” She took care of Connor like he was her husband, but their relationship was strictly platonic, even though it would do them both some good to enjoy life a little. Still, it made me smile to know she was spending extra time with him, even if it was because of the flu.

“We’ll keep the party low-key. Just a few friends.” I laughed as I shook my head, knowing it would be out of control. Everyone at Annie’s school, West Haven Private Academy, was dying to get inside our house, as well as everyone from Dyer Public.

“What party? I don’t want a party. I’m not leaving this house until my bruise goes away. I look hideous.” Annie rolled her eyes as she scrunched her nose.

“Oh, honey. You have to have a party. The town will be talking about it the rest of the year. The Blakelys are royalty.” Amanda was grinning as she clasped her hands together in front of her teal polo shirt. No doubt she was thinking of the day I would ask her to marry me so she could be one of the elite. She would be waiting a long fucking time. She was oblivious to the circumstances that had brought us into this lavish estate or the endless line of women who filed through the door.

“The party is happening, and you don’t need to worry about leaving the house because we’re having it here.” I raised my eyebrow at Annie. She glanced up at me and looked back down at her plate. Her cheeks tinged pink next to the purple mark. I knew she had thought we had forgotten.

“What happened to your face?” Annie looked at me before looking to Connor, who was leaning toward her, his elbows on either side of his plate. He was just as overprotective of her as I was, and I was glad I wouldn’t carry the burden of keeping her safe alone.

“I slipped going up the stairs.”

“You are as graceful as a newborn fawn,” he joked, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes as his gaze fell to me questioningly. It was a fair judgment on his part. He cared for us equally, but I could take care of myself.

“Being chased by a lion,” she muttered as she glared up at me, and I shook my head, trying not to laugh.

I cleared my throat as I pushed my eggs around my plate. “I thought you needed to go to Jasper for the Raymond case? It’s a slam dunk with the doctor’s deposition.”

Connor looked up at me, his eyes settling on Amanda momentarily. “This is a…private matter.”

I sat straight up as I clenched my jaw and avoided Annie’s questioning stare as I shoveled a bite of food into my mouth. I swallowed hard as I chose my words carefully. “I should go with you. I can’t learn the business if you don’t let me tag along every once in a while.”

Connor laughed nervously as he wiped his mouth with the crimson cloth napkin. “You need to be here for Annabel’s party. It’s a big day. You’ll get your chance soon enough.” He smiled warmly over at Annie, who had her eyebrows drawn together. “Well, I should get my bags together. Grace?” He coughed as he pushed his chair back.

“I’ll be right up.” Grace collected her dishes and carried them into the kitchen as I ran my hand roughly over my jaw. “Ya’ll better go on and get ready. You don’t want to be late for church. God sees everything.” Even knowing about our past, Grace refused to let us blame God. From the first day she arrived, she told us stories from the Bible and how God had given her so much even though we were her only family. Her positive outlook in even the bleakest situations baffled me, but I admired her for it.

“Wouldn’t want that.” Annie rolled her eyes as she stood and stretched. I’d never met a girl as stubborn as her and so dead set on being defiant; it was almost adorable if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.

“I’ll grab my makeup bag from the car.” Amanda stood and bounded down the hall to the front door.

“You’re not going to church in that outfit.” I drummed my fingers against the wooden table as she got up and walked behind me toward the stairs.

“Who’s going to stop me?” she whispered as she continued by.

“Annabel, wait.” She paused as I pushed from my seat and walked toward her, sipping my orange juice as I approached her. “We need to clear something up.”

Her eyebrows pulled together, and I knew her mind was replaying her walking into my bathroom because her cheeks flushed and her gaze fell.

“What I meant to say was change your fucking clothes now.” I tilted the glass toward her, and she shrieked as the cold liquid soaked through her shirt onto her skin.

“You son of a bitch!”

Thirty minutes later, Annie came from her room in a sensible white button-up blouse and black pencil skirt. Her hair was curled perfectly down her back, and there were no traces of the bruise on her face.

We drove my car, a black 300S, to the church. It was just Annie and me. Amanda wasn’t very religious, and I preferred this time to be just the two of us. Church in the South was very much a social event, and our presence was always required to represent the Blakelys.

Annie’s fingers ran over the leather cover of her Bible as she stared out the window, watching the world going by, determined to give me the silent treatment. I reached up and turned down the volume of the radio. “You want to talk about the elephant in the room?” I asked. She raised an eyebrow as her gaze fell to my lap.

“I’d hardly compare you to an elephant,” she deadpanned.

I laughed as I shook my head. “Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I learned from the master.” She blushed and turned her gaze back to her window as I turned the radio back up. We drove a few more blocks before turning into Holy Trinity’s gravel parking lot. I put the car in park and turned to Annie, who was still lost in thought.

“Hey.” I touched her leg, and she jumped. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ear with a nervous smile. “I still don’t really like these places.” She shrugged, and I smiled sadly at her.

“This is a long way from the commune.”

Her eyes searched mine before she nodded.

“Good girl. Let’s go.” I got out of the car and rounded the front of the vehicle, pulling open Annie’s door. I held out my hand, and she slid her fingers against mine as I pulled her to her feet.

I put my hand on the small of her back as I guided her toward the door. We were greeted warmly by everyone we passed. Inside, the church was small but air-conditioned and well maintained. I preferred this to the megachurches you see on television. This was more personal, hands on, although not to the degree I was used to.

Annie and I slid into the back pew as she clutched her Bible on her lap. “You forgot your book.”

“Never.” I tapped my finger on the side of my head and winked. She shook her head and suppressed a giggle as the other members found their seats. I cleared my throat to keep myself from laughing as I nodded hello to Shelly Kline. She’d had her eye on me for a year, and it took everything I had to avoid her advances.

“She likes you,” Annie whispered a little too loudly, and Ms. Baker turned around to give us a disapproving glare.

“She’s not my type.”

The service was short and to the point. The preacher spoke about sin and redemption. Before I knew it, we were back on the road speeding toward home.

“Do you believe all of that?” Annie asked, and her gaze cut to me.

“Believe what?” I asked, my eyes focused on the road ahead.

“That sins can just be wiped away? That you can do anything you want and there are no real consequences as long as you ask for forgiveness?”

There was a pregnant pause as I thought over her question. Was she asking for herself? Was she contemplating committing a sin, or was this about acts committed against her? “Some things are unforgivable, little one.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I felt her gaze burning into me. “Do you still…believe in God?”

I looked over at her angelic face, the innocence still lurking beneath her toughened outer shell. “Yes.” I reached for the radio and turned up the volume to end our conversation.

“She’s the one, Colin. She’s the one who came to me in my vision.” Taylor was wildly animated as he dug through the pile of papers on his desk, searching for something.

“You say that about all the new girls.” I tried not to sound bored, but this conversation was getting redundant, and I was growing tired of our monotonous routine. Taylor would bring a new family into our church and force them to live by his standards, only to molest and abuse their children.

“This one is a pretty little thing. You’ll like her. Her name is Annabel.”

He spent years trying to mold me into him, but he only succeeded in wearing away at my conscience until sick and twisted perversions were the only thing that made me feel at all. It didn’t matter to me in whose name I acted.

“She is yours. A gift from God himself.”





Chapter 3 – Annabel

When we returned to the house, Connor was gone, and I assumed he went to his local office to take care of a few things before he left town. I pulled the pearl earrings from my ears and dropped them on my jewelry armoire before unbuttoning my blouse, not being able to get the pretentious clothing off fast enough. I preferred to accentuate my features, not hide them.

I hated going to church every week because it brought back the parts of my past I liked to pretend didn’t exist. A time when I held hope for the future and trusted in humanity.

“Colin, I’d like you to meet Annie. She’s the one I was telling you about. She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Taylor had his arm around me, and it made me feel uncomfortable, but it would have been impolite to shrug out of his grasp. “Her mother is feeling ill, so I thought it best to get her out of the house so she doesn’t get sick as well. Why don’t you show her around?”

“Yes, sir,” he said with a bright grin. I smiled over at the boy who was much taller than I was and probably a few years older. His dark hair hung into his blue eyes as he looked at me skeptically. Taylor disappeared, and I chewed on my lip as I waited for the Colin to say something. His grin faded and was replaced with a menacing glare, a coldness that made a chill run down my spine.

“All the shelters full?” he snapped, and I flinched as I glanced down at my filthy hand-me-down outfit Taylor had given me.

“We didn’t have a choice.” The feeling of fear that settled in my gut was only growing stronger. Something wasn’t right about this place. When we were brought to the commune, it was only supposed to be for the weekend, but my mom had gotten sick from food poisoning four days ago and was still not doing any better. This was the first time I had been out of the main building since she became ill, and it was like stepping into another world.

“You always have a choice. Well, you did.” His eyes looked me over before he went back to fixing the broken leg of a desk.

“N-no,” I stuttered as I tucked my hair behind my ear, my fingers getting caught in a knot.

He glared up at me skeptically before shaking his head and going back to his project.

“H-how long h-have you been here?” I asked, hoping that this boy would be of some help.

“As long as I can remember.” He sighed as his hands began working again. “Because my mother was a whore. She slept around, found Jesus. Not at the same time.” His sarcastic remark while saying something so sad had caught me off guard.

“You believe that? That she was…a whore?”

His angry blue eyes met mine. “Have you even read the Bible?”

I tucked my dirty blond hair behind my ear and looked down at the wooden floor. “Some.”

“How’d you meet Taylor?” He stood up, stretching his back as he groaned, and I tried not to stare at the crisscross pattern of raised pink scars that covered his flesh from his shoulder blades to the edge of his pants.

“Mom met Taylor at that church soup kitchen on Fowler Street.”

He nodded. “Homeless.”

“N-no. We volunteered on the weekends.” I took a deep breath, trying to slow my thoughts so I could stop stuttering. It was a horrible nervous habit that was exacerbated by fear.

He turned to face me, his eyebrows drawn together as he took in my appearance. “This is a first.”

“He told us we could volunteer here and help others get on their feet.”

“I believe he meant get you on your back.” He rolled his neck against his shoulders and let out a guttural groan.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked over at me, emptiness in his eyes. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I pulled down the zipper on the back of my skirt, shoving it over my hips and stepping out of it as it puddled on the floor. I walked into my expansive closet, and my eyes danced over the racks of clothing all organized by color.

I grabbed a pair of black shorts and a matching tank top to lounge around the house in. It usually took me a few hours to get out of the mental funk church put me in. Ice cream and a good movie usually did the trick.

I pulled on my clothes and walked out of my closet to find Colin lying on my bed, his shoes on my brand-new comforter.

“You could at least take your shoes off. You’re going to get dirt on my bed.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Little Orphan Annie.” He shook his head as he pushed from my bed with a smirk on his face, his charcoal suit pants and white button-down wrinkled. He had the cuffs unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, revealing the expansive cross tattoo down his inner right forearm.

“What movie are we watching?” he asked as he stopped in my doorway and grabbed the frame over his head.

“You’re going to grace me with your presence? Surely you have some child to steal lunch money from or perhaps a puppy to kick around.”

He winked and sauntered off into his room as he laughed. I shook my head and ran my hand over my comforter to make sure there were no dirt marks left behind from his shoes.

Colin always knew how to get under my skin. He got some sick sense of enjoyment from it because he knew he was the only person who could hurt my feelings. I’d learned to overcome, adapt, and adjust to anything thrown at me…except for him.

I made my way down to the first floor. I walked through the hallway by the dining room and was turning right at the kitchen when Colin’s voice rang out from behind me.

“Buttered or unbuttered?” he asked, and I turned to see him shirtless, still wearing his suit pants, but the button was undone, and they rode low on his hips, revealing the V of muscles that disappeared below the fabric.

“What?”

“For the movie.” He held up a bag of popcorn as he leaned back casually against the counter, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, whatever.” I spun around and headed into the media room. I looked over the bookshelves lined with movies, my eyes dancing over the spines as I read the titles under my breath. We had a collection of thousands. I stood on my toes as my fingers slid over the cases. Long fingers wrapped over my hipbone, causing me to jump back against Colin’s bare chest.

“You scared me,” I huffed.

“If I had a dollar for every time I elicited that response from a woman.” He put a tumbler glass to his lips and drank back a thick amber liquid. I nudged my elbow into his stomach to make him take a step back.

“Not something to be proud of. How many of those have you had?” I asked as I looked up at him over my shoulder.

“Not nearly enough.” He tipped it to his lips again and drained the last of it from his glass before setting it on a side table without a coaster. I tried not to cringe at the watermark it was going to leave on a table that probably cost a small fortune.

“Let’s watch”—his long fingers slid over the movie cases—“this one.” He pulled out the case for Flowers in the Attic.

“Seriously? No.” I took the movie and shoved it back in its spot as my entire body felt hot. Why was he acting like this?

“What’s wrong with a little brotherly love?” he joked as he leaned closer to my neck, his breath tickling my skin as his mouth ghosted over the sensitive flesh. I closed my eyes, breathing in the smell of his No. 1 cologne.

“You are not my brother.” I sidestepped away from him as I focused on finding something to watch. I normally chose something romantic, but I knew that wouldn’t fly with Colin around. I still had to try.

“How about this?” I pulled out Sweet Home Alabama, and he looked like he was going to be physically ill. He grabbed another case and pulled it out as he raised an eyebrow, challenging me.

The Borgias?” I sighed dramatically as I stuck my movie back on the shelf. “I’ll just go read a book or something.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I froze, slowly looking over my shoulder behind me as he pulled me back to him, the playful smirk now gone.

“Pick something.” His hand fell to his side, and he walked over to the large brown leather couch and sat down in the center next to his bowl of popcorn. I was getting whiplash from his rapidly changing moods.

I studied the titles, trying to find something I hadn’t seen before, but I knew no matter what I chose I’d be struggling to pay attention with him at my side.

“You should really put some clothes on.” His eyes ran slowly up the length of my legs.

I looked down over myself. I was perfectly covered, and it wasn’t like I was going to be leaving the house. “You should put some clothes on,” I replied dryly, and he chuckled softly as my eyes drifted over his chest and down his abs.





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