Page 6 of Tempting God

She slams the door when she’s gone, which means Dad isn’t home yet, though I’m not surprised. It feels like he’s gone all the time, not that I can blame him. I’d be gone all the time, too, if I could get away with it.

I rub my cheek. I hate her so much.

But my hate isn’t going to solve anything, so I get my dress from the closet and the shape wear. The last time she told me to wear it, she checked to see if I had it on right in front of my dad and his coworker. It was embarrassing and not something I want to go through again.

This one is much worse. It’s a body suit and looks like it’s going to be several sizes too small. And the dress I’m wearing is a dark pink. Great. I’m going to look like a stuffed sausage. Probably feel like one, too.

Grumbling, I get dressed. I try not to look in the mirror too much as I do. Not just because of the bruises, either. No, I don’t want to see how hideous I look. Mother can’t stand that I’m not tall and willowy like her. No, I’m short and round, like Dad. Or, as she likes to remind me, fat. I’m fat. So what? It doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it bothers her, but lord knows she uses it as a weapon against me.

The time comes where I have to look in the mirror. Using my concealer and foundation, I cover all visible bruises on my face, arms, and hands. The others don’t matter. Just the ones that might end up in photos. I make a mental note to order more concealer because I’m almost out. It lasts me nearly a month, which is standard around here. Tossing the bottle into my make-up bag, I look myself over. This is as good as it’s going to get.

My parents are waiting in the foyer when I come down the stairs. Mother is on her phone, but Dad smiles at me.

“Look at my little girl. All grown up, and a beauty just like her mother.”

His words slur, making it hard to keep the smile on my face.

Empty words that stem from liquor mean nothing.

“You look handsome, Dad.”

He preens and says, “Well, we should go. Is everyone ready? Tonight is a big night for the Blanc family.”

Mother doesn’t bother answering, and brushes past him, going out the front door. There’s a flicker of hurt on his face that quickly vanishes. I watch as the armor settles over his entire demeanor. He’s officially in Brotherhood mode, which means I have to be on my best behavior.

The limo ride is silent as we make our way across town. Grandfather Blanc’s birthday celebration is at his mansion just outside of Dallas. I’ve always wondered if he ever gets lonely living there by himself, but probably not. There are always people from the Brotherhood around. Like now. The drop-off line to the house is long and we have to wait nearly thirty minutes before our doors are opened and we can make our way inside.

The Defiant God Brotherhood prides themselves on being the most elite secret society in the world. When I was younger, I didn’t know what that meant. Now I can see that it means having a variety of members who can bring something to the table. Money. Power. Connections. All things the Brotherhood needs to survive. And Grandfather Blanc is the head of it all.

It’s why I had a spot at the most prestigious private school in New York even though I live in Texas. People wait years to find out if they’ve been accepted to Trinity, but I knew I’d been accepted before I left grade school. It’s also why people try so hard to be my friend. Those who know about the Brotherhood will do anything to be close to me. Not because they want to or even because they like me. It’s all so they can elevate their own families.

Dating is even worse. There hasn’t been a single boy who’s asked me out because he was interested. No, their parents have urged them to date the Brotherhood’s golden girl. For a long time, I didn’t know why people pushed so hard to date me. But then I found out about the prize that one lucky man will get if he marries me one day. Since Dad never had a son, my husband will get our family’s spot in the Brotherhood.

It's too much pressure to put on a sixteen-year-old. And it’s not fair.

The foyer is packed, but people move out of the way so we can walk. The perk of being a Blanc.

“Blanc,” an older man greets. “Ready to take over for your father?”

Dad laughs. “Heavens, no. This old heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“No?”

“Never fear, Irons. The Blanc family will continue to lead the Brotherhood. My nephew, Charles, will take over when Father officially steps down.”

“Good boy, that Charles.” The man slaps Dad on his back. “Good to see you, Blanc.”

“You too, Irons. Be sure to tell your sons I said hello.” As soon as he’s out of earshot, Dad says to Mother, “That man is a snake.”

“My poor darling.” She rubs his arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to take over for your father? It’s your right…”

“No, I meant what I said. My heart wouldn’t handle the stress.” He smiles at her. “Never fear, my love. All will work out in the end.”

“I’m sure it will,” Mother answers.

We enter the ballroom, and I spot Grandfather at the front of the room. Cousin Charles is at his side, both with a glass of vodka in hand. Charles’ new wife, Aimée, is also standing with them. Aimée is everything Mother wishes I was.

Tall. Beautiful. Blonde.

---