Page 32 of Deliverance

A soft knock comes from my door before it’s cracked open. My eyes move up from the page to see thick, shiny red hair peeking its way inside.

“Hey,” Maggie says softly. “Are you ready for dinner? Everyone is waiting on you.”

I nod, inhaling deeply before holding the breath. I might just hold it for the rest of the night.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asks.

I open my mouth to respond when I decide I don’t need to. For some reason, instead of being irritated by my silence, she almost seems understanding. Her chin juts out, gesturing to the book in my hands as she speaks.

“I didn’t know you journaled.”

“I don’t,” I answer quickly. “Not often,” I amend, closing the book and shutting it in my bedside table’s drawer.

She nods like that’s all the explanation that she needs. I really like that about her. She doesn’t pry, she doesn’t demand information. She waits for you to give it to her like a gift, patiently, gently, and if you’re not ready, she drops it. She gets it.

Standing to my feet, I move to slip past her out the door when her hand catches mine, stopping me in my tracks.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Ever since our parents came home, you’ve been…quiet.”

I shake my head, forcing a smile in place.

“I’m fine. I just don’t think this should happen, at least not while they are in the house with us,” I say as I attempt to wiggle my fingers free.

Maggie nods in understanding before leaning her face to mine. She doesn’t kiss me, instead she ghosts her mouth over mine, running it up and down the length of my neck before whispering into my ear.

“If that’s what you want. I’ve never been too afraid to flirt with a little danger, though.”

I can’t help it. When her lips just barely graze against my earlobe, my panties soak instantly. God, how does she have this control over me? This power? It’s out of my fucking hands and she knows it. She knows the power she holds over me, what she does to me, and she fucking revels in it.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Maggie says, pulling her mouth away from me as her eyes devour me whole once more before she steps out the door.

Like a moth to a flame, I follow her blindly, taking each step with care, my eyes solely fixed on her until we come into the dining room. There, my father is waiting at the head of the table, Calista at the other end, while my brother takes his seat beside my father. I take a seat next to Brad, and surprisingly, Maggie sits beside me instead of the empty side of the table. Not that she has to sit on the other side, but it feels a little odd to have one side full and the other empty. It doesn’t seem to bother her any as she settles herself in her seat, scooting her chair in until she’s flush against the table.

“Thank you for joining us, Bridgette,” my father draws out darkly.

I dip my head and nod, keeping my eyes focused on the empty place setting before me.

“My apologies, Father. I lost track of time.”

“Hmm.” He sounds before gesturing for the butler to come in.

Now that he’s home, it looks like he brought back all the staff he dismissed after the wedding. I suppose he can’t go even a day without being waited on hand and foot.

Each of us is presented with a plate of salmon, asparagus and roasted potatoes. Though, the potatoes are noticeably absent on all the women’s plates. No surprise there. Harry Brenton wouldn’t dare be caught with a fat wife or daughter, even stepdaughter. Just like all the members of the Brethren, image is everything.

I can see the moment Maggie notices, a look of disappointment in her eyes as she stares at Brad’s plate with want. Reaching under the table as discreetly as I can, I pinch her thigh in warning. She doesn’t know my father, hardly at all really. She doesn’t know the kind of temper he has, the little things that set him off.

Her eyes come to mine, understanding dawning in them before it’s replaced with something wicked. Pushing her hand to my thigh, she begins slowly sneaking it up my leg before slipping under my skirt.

“So, Margret, how are you enjoying the house?” my dad asks as her fingers tease my panty line.

I do my best to remain composed as I pick up my fork and begin slowly picking at my salmon.

“It’s absolutely lovely. Thank you for being so welcoming to me.” She smiles as her fingers slide under my panties, teasing my wet slit.

Fuck, that feels good.

“Of course, we are family. I want you to feel as well taken care of as one of my own children, and I hope they will extend the same courtesy. Right?” he asks.

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