They even made number nine in bold. How the hell do they expect me to do all of this? I laughed at the dress code one.
Good luck getting me to give up my Docs, Chucks, and band tees. Obviously, the glaring issue here is the bullshit marriage clause. How could my mother be on board for something as fucked as an arranged marriage? I want to rage out. The protest sits on the tip of my tongue, fighting to be freed, but I haven’t kept us safe this long by acting stupid. I know there’s no way out of this. My mother’s signature seals my fate and guardianship to Mr. Grant. I’m stuck. Fear racks my body, creeping up my leg like vines, attempting to hold me hostage, and I try to regulate my breathing to ward off another panic attack. I’m supposed to be showing that I can handle all of this, so no one attempts to take my brothers and my sister away from me.
Get your shit together Riah! Whatever you need to do, you’ll do it. You promised them we wouldn’t let anyone separate us.
Groaning, I take one more deep breath and tune back in, hearing Jeremy reading more legal jargon. It doesn’t really matter what he’s saying though. My mother already signed and once I turn eighteen in a few weeks, I’ll sign whatever is necessary too.
“Emma, did you hear what I said? Do you understand the requirements and what is expected of you?”
“Yes, I’ll do whatever is needed. You won’t have any issues with me,” I say to him. Facing Alex, I ask my next question, “Will we be able to still live here or will we have to move in with your family until I’m eighteen?”
“No, you will all be able to remain here. I have put together everything you may need and you will have my direct line if you need to reach me, at any given time. I only ask that you come to our weekly family dinners, which are every Sunday evening,” Alex responds with a small smile.
I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding and then respond, “We can handle weekly family dinners.”
Now, I just need to figure out how I am going to handle the rest of this mess my mother has knowingly left me in.
EMMA
Wednesday comes quickly. Between the incident at school, which I haven’t whispered a word to Thomas about, the meeting with the lawyer, and discussing our pending move with the kids I don’t remember my head hitting the pillow of my new Alaskan King bed. Why the hell I would need a bed that big was beyond me.
The kids took the move far better than I expected. Once I told them they would still be able to go to the same school, they were excited and wanted to move right that very moment. I haven’t given them much else and I won’t. They don’t need to worry about any of the fine print.
Thomas picked me up this morning and went over some of the protocols I’ll have to follow. After listening to him go over a very exhaustive list of rules, I’ve decided it’s time I get to know my new shadow a little better.
“Hey, Thomas, how long have you been a bodyguard?”
He chuckles at my obvious shift, but he answers anyway, “Once I retired from the SEALs, I started a security firm that provides protection for celebrities and other high-profile clients.”
“Well, I don’t know how you got stuck with me, but I plan on being your most boring client ever.” My statement turns his chuckle into a bark of laughter.
“I look forward to the boredom, Miss Bishop. We are about to arrive at the school. Before you get out please keep the watch that I have given you on at all times. It not only has a tracker in it, but it also syncs up to your phone, which will allow for you to communicate with me on a secure channel.” His focus diverts from the road in front of him to make sure I’ve put on the sleek looking, tech’d out Apple Watch.
“Got it,” I say, flashing my wrist in his direction.
Dipping his head and refocusing on the entrance to the school he says, “I will check on you throughout the day and will remain in the parking lot should you need me.” He pulls to a stop and before he gets out of the car he continues, “While I hope you never need it, there is also a distress button on your watch that will trip a silent alarm notifying me of your location. It will also go off if you take it off without providing your thumbprint.”
Well shit, I hope I never need to hit that button. I can’t say I’m not glad to have it though. I’ll have to discuss getting something like this for the kids.
“Thanks, T, I feel safer already with you on duty.” I smile as he opens his door to come around and let me out. I’ve already argued that I didn’t need him to do this but he says for safety reasons he must.
Once my door opens, I see nothing but eyes on me. You’d think this school full of rich pricks would’ve seen a driver before.
What the hell are they looking at? I grab my bag and step out of the car and then I hear the screech from down the sidewalk.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Sam’s shrill voice grates on my sanity. It’s too early in the morning to deal with anyone whose voice sounds like a dog whistle.
“Thomas, what are you doing driving this gutter trash?” she snarls, spit flying. Well that’s not very high society of her.
Sighing, I try to walk around her. My patience is in short supply and I’m supposed to be trying to be on my best behavior.
Ugh, it’s not even day one and I feel the constraints of my shackles.
Thomas turns to the banshee and puts an arm up to keep her back.
“Miss Davenport, it’s good to see you. I hope your family is well, but I am going to need you to stop right there and not get any closer to Miss Bishop.”
Sam halts. Obviously, she knows Thomas is not someone to trifle with. Her ire grows at his rebuke. I guess Thomas is a big deal around here if she’s making such a stink about him driving me.
“Thomas you’re on the co-” She stops before she can finish whatever she was about to say when four looming figures join the fold.
“Samantha, you always know how to make your unwanted presence known,” Liam speaks first and by the silence of the rest of the boys I’m guessing he is speaking for all of them. Well, except maybe Rowan, we know how much he loves a crotch rub from the annoying hag.
“Shove it Liam, you know like I do Thomas only drives-” She’s cut off again.
Only drives whom?
My head volleys back and forth, like a ping-pong ball.
You’d never think this was the girl Rowan helped to confront me on the first day of school.
His voice is filled with vitriol, as he chastises, “Sam shut the fuck up and stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. All you need to know is Thomas isn’t driving you. Run along before you get yourself into even more trouble!”
Trouble? What the hell would she get in trouble for? Is she annoying? Absolutely, yes. However, nothing she’s doing warrants her getting into trouble. I’m about to say just that when she turns in my direction and tries to launch herself at me, but Thomas catches her in mid-air.
“You stupid cunt, you’re ruining everything. You’ll rue the day your trashy-ass family ever set foot in my town. Fuck you and your worthless trash family. Your druggie Mom, deadbeat Dad, and worthless ass sibli-“
Did I say I was shackled? Fuck rules, I never did like those motherfuckers anyway. My fist curls, thumb tucked out, my right arm rearing back before it springs forward and connects in the dead center of her nose. The crunch of bone sings like a sweet melody.
Surprise stuns her momentarily silent, before shrill screams attack my ears, making me cringe, but not before I say my peace. “I told you once to stay in your lane and I’d stay in mine, but obviously there’s nothing between those ears of yours. Don’t you ever talk about my family. I don’t give a fuck if you talk your dumb shit about me. My family is off limits to pass your helium-injected lips.”
The maniacal laugh emanating from her would freak some out, but she just looks deranged to me, blood running down her nose in rivulets, while flailing in Thomas’s arms.
Once she realizes she won’t be able to get to me, she stops and he sets her back on the ground. She aims one more glare in my direction without saying another word, and storms off. The boys follow behind her. August, being August, turns and winks, before continuing on with the rest of his friends.
Shrugging my shoulders I face Thomas, nibbling my lip, and explain, “I’m sorry about that. I was trying to behave, but she’s had that coming for a long time. Talking about me is one thing. Even my parents I can handle. My siblings though, that was a bridge too far.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.