Page 34 of Chef
I take a deep breath, then exhale, steadying my voice. “The Landrys. They have their gator rescue here. I think, um, maybe Benjamin didn’t remember the right way in.”
The other end of the call is so silent that I think perhaps he’s gone. He’s going to leave me alone for another day or so. Another day before he calls me wanting to know everything about the people who have been nothing but kind to me.
“The wedding?”
“It’s meant to be today, but I don’t know if it’ll go ahead after what happened. I don’t really know anything.”
There is nothing but breathing on the other end of the line, and I know he’s displeased with me. “One more.”
“One more?”
“Yes. For every moment in which you cause me displeasure, I will offer your daughter to one more man who will take his time to break her. You are at three men already. Do not make me add another to the lot your precious little girl will have to endure on your behalf.”
“Yessir.”
The phone goes dead and so does my heart. For every scrap of information I don’t give to Ashfall the worse it gets.
“Knock, knock!” A cheery voice jolts me out of my thoughts and I almost want to run away and hide. “Hey! Don’t forget the wedding today! It’s at 2pm so I’ll see you there!”
Dammit. I wave at Joe through the window of the cabin the Keep gave me and I push all the feelings down into a dark place where they can’t affect me. I have a job to do here. One that will set me free. I don’t have the option to form bonds with the Keep. No matter how kind they are, how willing they are to help me and my daughter, in a choice between them and me? I’ll choose me and my baby every time.
Sage
“Oh Saaaage! Your wedding party is here!” Damian sing songs as he bursts into my room, flinging the curtains open.
I don’t even bother answering, I just growl. I’m tired and cranky this morning. Not from drinking too much last night. More likely from, oh I don’t know, finding body parts all fucked up in the gator rehabilitation centre or whatever Vex calls it. If there was ever an omen to say this was a bad idea, that would have been it.
“Hey girl, you ready for this?” Joe says cheerily as she walks in wearing a robe that is so colorful it hurts my eyes.
“Can you say that a little louder? I can’t hear you over your robe,” I sass, grinning at her from my prone position.
“Ha. Ha,” Joe replies in a bored voice.
“Right, we have all the pamper things we could ever need. I have the makeup, nails and hair stuff right here,” Loyal says, dragging in what looks like some type of fancy airline luggage.
“What?” I ask, blinking from her to the rolling case behind her. “Did you go to beauty school or something?”
Loyal laughs prettily, because of course she does, before waving a hand at herself. “Eden’s Keep born and bred, remember? I don’t know how to use any of this stuff. Luckily for us, Damian does.”
I stare at Damian who gives me a finger wave. “Lemme guess, you worked at a hair salon your maman owned or something?”
“Close.” Damian grins. “Sometimes I help Maman with the dearly departed when the funeral home gets a lil’ too busy.”
“Oh my god,” Loyal whispers and Joe rolls her lips between her teeth.
“Well, then,” I say, at a loss for words.
“Why don’t you shower and then we can get started?” Loyal suggests, whipping my blankets off me, leaving me exposed in an old shirt of Chef’s and my underwear.
“Oh, ah, maybe defuzz a little while you're at it, cher,” Damian says, judging my stubbly legs.
“I am going to. But I’m not doing it because you told me to!” I yell at Damian over my shoulder while I head to the one and only bathroom in the house.
I turn on the water and wait for it to heat up, sitting on the toilet lid, thinking about what today will entail. There won’t be any vows. Surely. I mean, what are we going to say?That you love him. I frown down at my stubble covered legs at that thought. Do I still love him? Did I ever stop loving him? I feel like I did. That the anger made it impossible to love him. And Iknow that deep down I have big feelings for Chef, but it doesn't feel like it did before. Ugh. I’m already sick of myself and being in my own head. I have bigger things to worry about than vows at a fake wedding.Then why does it feel so real?
I growl and step into the shower, hoping the water will drown out the voices in my head. I lather up, then look at the razor taunting me from the shower shelf.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll do it.”
