Page 17 of Devil Mine

I’m not overrun with pity for him. The logical side of me knows that actions have consequences and he should have been ready to deal with them. The emotional side doesn’t necessarily want him to die but draws the line at helping him regardless.

“You look beautiful tonight, darling,” My mother says. “That color really suits you.”

I look down at the dusty pink evening gown I chose to wear tonight. It has an impossibly tight corset that I had to be strapped into like that scene fromPirates of the Caribbean. It forces my breasts up so high on my chest that they’re nearly bursting out of the top of my square neckline. The corset flows down into rivers and layers of tulle in gradually darkening shades of pink.

It really is an absolutely stunning piece, custom-made for me by my designer best friend, Dagny. She had me pair it with teardrop diamond earrings and an old Hollywood hairstyle, the left side slicked back and pinned behind my ear.

I lock my arm with my mother’s and nudge her with my hip. “Thanks, Mum. You look absolutely unreal yourself.”

She’s wearing a classic navy gown with long sleeves that she’s accessorized with gold bangles on each wrist and a red lip. I know those sleeves are more functional than a fashion choice – they hide bruises my father gave her.

A real smile graces my Mum’s lips. It pains me. I wonder when the last time was that someone told her she was beautiful. I should be more attentive.

I’m distracted from those thoughts when a peculiar awareness washes over me.

I feel like I’m being watched.

I scan the dancefloor, the bar, the attendees milling about the perimeter of the room, but there’s nothing.

And yet, there’s this inexplicable weight that settles on my nape and makes the hairs all over my body stand on end.

“Tess.” I look up to find Franklin standing in front of me. He does a mock bow and extends his hand towards me like we’re at a seventeenth century ball. “Can I have this dance?”

Oh, god.

Absolutely not, I want to scream. My palm itches to smack his hand away.

“I’m actually enjoying my mother’s company–”

“She’d love to,” my father interrupts. He appears from out of nowhere like a bad dream.

“Wonderful,” Franklin answers, ignoring my own answer, grabbing my hand and tugging me onto the dance floor.

I stumble after him, throwing an alarmed look over my shoulder at my mother and wordlessly asking for help. Her eyes widen and I think she’s going to come after me, but my father’s hand closes menacingly around her arm and she freezes.

Franklin swings me around and I fall into his arms. His clammy right hand clasps mine and holds it up. His left finds my waist, inappropriately low and dangerously close to my ass.

Disgust roils in my stomach when he presses me against him close enough that I can feel his semi-hard penis against my stomach. There's not much there to feel but I say a quick mental thanks to Dagny for the corset. It provides a much-needed layer of protection.

I shove delicately against his chest with my free hand, keeping up all appearances of civility.

“I think we should leave some room for Jesus,” I joke, hoping he’ll respond well to humor.

He presses me even tighter against him until his putrid breath hits my face. “You should know that I’ve been speaking to your father about a match between us. This union will be blessed by forces much more powerful than God.”

So my father hasn’t only been focusing on his debts as I thought.

I’m considering the pros and cons of stomping on Franklin’s foot when I sense that familiar weight on me once more. I feel the ownership of someone’s gaze caressing my skin, leaving a burning path in its wake.

Am I actually losing my mind?

Franklin has me pinned so tightly against him that I can’t even twist my head to look around me without fear of our lips touching. I’ll actually be sick all over myself if that happens.

Part of me wonders if it’s worth it if it means he’ll let me go.

Franklin has never been this offensive to my senses before. But then again, he’s never manhandled me like he is now.

He twirls me around, the crowd parts and my gaze slams intohis.

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