Page 42 of Monster
My mind wandered back to the dress Monster had given me. The delicate black lace that had nestled so seductively between the sheets of white tissue paper. My dream dress. The dress I should have been wearing when I married my dream man.
I wouldn't get either so there was no point talking about it.
* * *
A small ceremony.That’s what my father had said. Just an intimate gathering of a few close family and friends, but as I reached the bottom of the staircase and the low murmur of voices hit my ears, it didn’t sound like a small gathering
It sounded like hundreds of people, probably everyone my father knew even remotely, were waiting to watch me tie myself to a man I couldn't stand. But who could blame my father? I had shamed him publicly, this was his way of saving face, of showing the world that he had me back in line and under control.
“Miss Monroe.” The make-up artist, whose name I still hadn't asked for, came to a stop behind me. Her hands reached out to steady me as I began to sway.
It was suddenly too hot; the corseted bodice of the dress was too stifling and I couldn’t breathe. My hands clutched at the restrictive material, desperately trying to get air into my lungs.
“Miss Monroe, are you ok?” She was suddenly at my side, her face creased in worry. “You look like you are going to faint.”
It felt like it as well. The room seemed to be closing in on me. “I feel...”
I didn't get to finish. “She’s fine. I will take it from here.” My father appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He cut quite the dashing figure in his tuxedo. “Angela?”
“Daddy.” My voice came out a croak, a whisper so quiet that no one heard it. He was my father and I was scared. Wasn't it his job to help me? Protect me? Why wasn't he doing anything to make this right?
“Come now, Angela.” Tucking my hand into the crook of his arm, he patted it. It was meant to show that he cared. But no one was fooled, least of all the makeup artist who was watching me with such pity. I might not have been able to confide in her but she could see on my face that I didn't want to be there.
This wasn't a wedding. It was a damn funeral. My funeral. As soon as I said I do, my life would be over.
I swayed again. “Daddy, please don't make me do this.”
His eyes flashed. “Compose yourself, Angela.” There was no warmth in his words. “Or have you forgotten our deal?”
I shook my head, forcing myself to control my breathing. No, I hadn't forgotten the deal I had made with him.
“You do this like the good daughter I know you are and I will leave that monster alone. Isn't that what you wanted?”
“Promise me you won't try and frame him for something he didn't do.”
Chuckling, my father patted my hand again. “Darling, he will be free and clear. But if you don't…then I'm sorry, but I will make sure he goes to prison.”
Someone below chuckled. “Did you get that Judge?”
I started, squinting my eyes into the shadowy doorway at the bottom of the stairs. I knew that voice. The low velvetiness of it.
“I got it.” A new voice added. “It's all on film.”
A figure stepped forward, blue threadbare jeans, a grey hooded sweatshirt under a black leather cut.
Monster.
He grinned up at me. “Hey Angel.”
33
MONSTER
There wasa moment when I thought we were too late, a moment just before I heard her voice on the stairs. My angel was begging her father not to make her go through with it. She was pleading with him and all he told her was to compose herself like the unfeeling asshole he was.
One glance at The Judge and I saw that he had his cellphone out. I knew what he was doing without having to ask. He was recording the whole thing and when her father opened his mouth and spoke I was glad he’d thought to. Not only had he admitted in front of witnesses that he was framing me to control his daughter, but it was now all captured on video. A video I had no doubt that The Judge had already sent to someone as a backup
“Did you get that, Judge?” I glanced at him before turning my attention back to the woman in white standing and squinting in my general direction. I knew she couldn't see me but I could see her. She looked beautiful, like she always did, her dark hair and tanned skin standing out in stark contrast to the pristine white of her dress. And what a dress it was. Something fit for a princess.
