Page 22 of Penny
“Yes. It’s been a while, but I would like to do that,” she replied, looking up at the mirror. “You only have tattoos on your back, and one on your right hand. What is that tattoo?” she asked, inspecting my only visible tattoo.
“It’s our crest. Only a select few of us have it,” I answered, feeling compelled to share something with her.
“Do only you and Connor have it?” she pried, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at the design.
“My uncle and father have it too,” I share, leaving out the part that my uncle was no longer in the picture.
“It’s very masculine.”
I chuckled in response and pulled the bottom drawer open, grabbing a large makeup bag. After placing it on the counter, I left the bathroom for her to get ready and for me to remember who she was to me. She was a silly girl who was being prepared for this world, and nothing more.
***
We pulled into the driveway in Connor’s truck, and I looked over my shoulder to the back seat to see Emily longingly looking out the window. Her makeup was minimal, but she’d highlighted her eyelids with light gold, and her eyelashes, covered in mascara, were longer. The dark eyeliner made the color of her eyes more ghostly than they usually did, and I knew she was worth more than someone to be sold off. My father would want her employed as an escort, and my brother needed to understand that was the best route for her. It was going to be a long night.
I stepped down from the truck onto the cobblestone driveway and opened the backdoor for Emily to join us. She wobbled slightly in her high heels before straightening her shoulders and steadying herself. Connor walked up behind her and pulled her into his side, wrapping his hand around her waist.
“The taste of your cunt is still in my beard,” he murmured into her ear, making her face flush red and look up at him.
She seemed broken by him earlier, but now she was back to leaning into him. My throat tightened at that, and I bit my tongue to not ask the questions rambling around in my head. She looked over my childhood home, parting her lips. It was obnoxiously large for it being right outside New York City. Large beams dropped down from the second story, surrounding the wraparound porch, and decadently maintained bushes gave the impression it was safe. This gated home was anything but safe.
We approached the large double doors, and they pulled open before we could knock. The butler, Robert, who helped raise my brother and me, smiled with his aged eyes and wrinkled cheeks.
“Good evening. He is in the office right now, but I will let him know you are here.” He beamed, being the polite man he always was.
Connor walked past him, shoulder-checking him and pretending he didn’t exist. I couldn’t blame my brother. Robert had always looked away at the cruel way our father had whipped us, but it wasn’t his fault that he was employed by the devil. Emily scowled, and I couldn’t resist shooting her a wink at how cute it was. If she didn’t like to see a small act of violence, she had a long road ahead of her in this lifestyle.
We made our way to the massive table, and the smell of steak and potatoes filled the room. The cooks here always made the best meat in town. Emily was in for a real treat, and I hoped she liked it rare. My eyes rolled at that thought. It didn’t matter what she wanted. She was going to fucking eat it.
“Take a seat,” Connor murmured, pulling out a dining room chair. She adjusted her dress at the hip and did what he asked.
Connor pulled out the seat next to her and sat. I chose to sit across from them to watch her expressions as she met the only parent who’d raised us.
The slide was long, and I smiled really big. I like being up so high. This was the best jungle gym in town, and Connor and I were going to play all day in it.
“Daddy, look at me. I’m on top of the world,” I yelled, wanting him to see how brave I was.
Connor looked up at me, and his eyes were still red from crying. He’d gotten in trouble earlier and was crying pretty hard.
My dad peered up from his cell phone and gave me a curt nod. He liked seeing me be so brave. I had to do that more often. Maybe I should tell my brother to be more like me, then Daddy wouldn’t be so mean to him all the time.
“Come play with me. We can play pirates.” I beamed down at my brother as he kicked at the woodchips surrounding the playground.
“Pirates aren’t real.” He shrugged, not looking up at me.
I hated it when he was like this, and I wanted to make him feel better. I straightened my shoulders and jumped down from the jungle gym steps.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, pulling his hand to get him on the other side of the monkey bars so Daddy wouldn’t hear us.
“I got in trouble for asking if we had a mom.” He sniffled, looking down at his sneakers.
“What did he say about her?” I asked, really excited to hear what he’d learned. We were always really curious about our mommy. We’d thought the big white bird had brought us in a basket when we were little boys.
“That women were sluts and were only good for money and babies,” he muttered and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer. “He said I was just like her, and I would go away like her, brother.” He wrapped his hands around me, burying his face in my neck. “I don’t want to leave you. Will you run away with me?”
“Shhh, you can’t say things like that, or Daddy will lock us away,” I whispered, pulling away from him.
“You need to do as I do and go to the very top of the playground. Show him you are big and strong like him,” I demanded, pointing at the very top. “Then, when we get home, we will tell the girls in the basement that they need to shut up. Dad does that a lot. Let's follow his lead.” I straightened my shoulders, sticking out my chest.
