Page 86 of Deliverance

“How could I make small talk when we’re talking about a boat that is forty-eight feet long!” I say with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The idiot completely misses my tone. He grins and nods.

“Exactly. I can’t wait to take you out on it, it will take your breath away.”

“Just like you do?” I ask with a flutter of my eyelashes.

His grin widens like he’s just won the lottery as he looks to his parents, who are frowning at us. I flick my gaze to my mother and Harry, both absolutely fuming and shooting daggers from their eyes.

“Would you excuse us for one moment?” my mother says before digging her sharp nails into my arm, yanking me out of the room and towards the kitchen.

Fuck. I’m wearing a sleeved dress, you wouldn’t think it would hurt this much, but she’s got goddamn daggers for nails. Well, they are mesh see-through sleeves, but still. I refused the peachy colored dress my mother had set out for me today and settled on a green dress. She started to argue with me when I rolled up my sleeves, revealing the cigarette burns Harry littered over my arms. She stared at them before back to me, her eyes taking stock of several angry red burns before she swallowed and turned away.

Yeah, the bitch knows what her husband is doing to her daughter, and she doesn’t give a fuck.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” my mother snaps.

“So much. Where do we begin?”

Her eyes widen with anger as she clenches her teeth together.

“You are making an embarrassment of this family and of Miles,” Harry chimes in with an authoritative tone that sends a chill down my back. It takes everything in me not to show it, though.

“He embarrasses himself. Have you seen the guy? He’s a fucking moron,” I scoff.

I’ve got to be honest; I’m on one tonight and I have no doubt that I’ll pay for it later. I live my life somewhere dancing the line of saying exactly what I feel and suffering brutal consequences when I do. You’d think those consequences would get me to shut my mouth, and sometimes it does, but fuck. Sometimes, I just can’t help it. Can’t stay silent or subservient as they auction me off to some idiot who could never meet my emotional or physical needs. Not like any of the arranged marriages have anything to do with the women’s wants or needs. It’s always centered around the men, of course. We’re nothing more than heir-birthing holes that they use up before they take on a mistress or five.

My mother’s nose comes just inches from mine as she sneers down at me.

“You will knock off this attitude or so help me,” she snarls. “You have the audacity to disrespect one of Harry’s business partner’s sons? You’re lucky we’re even finding a match for you! Left to your own devices, you’d be living on the street within a month.”

I shrug like I couldn’t care less.

“I’m sure I could find a kind woman to let me stay in her bed for a night or two.”

My mother’s eyes practically go black. Oop. Too far.

The slap is harder than I expect, my cheeks heating up from the sting of it. Fuck. That was a good one. My mother has always slapped me around, and it used to break my heart, but once I realized she didn’t love me and I wasn’t required to love her, things got easier. She wasn’t scary anymore; she was just a bitch. Harry, though…the way he’s looking at me promises that particular comment will be brought up in our next ‘therapy’ session. Goddamnit. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

Harry looks like he’s ready to start the session now before a figure steps in through the side door, a thunderous voice practically shaking the room around us.

“That’s enough,” Asher snaps.

My mother and Harry both startle, eyes wide with shock as they recognize the young future ‘king.’

“Mr. Putnam,” Harry says as my mother keeps her head bowed.

“What’s going on here?” he asks as he steps in between me and my parents.

See? I’m coming around to Asher. He’s decent when he feels like it. He’s not as welcoming or friendly as Liam, Wesley, or even Ronan, but he’s getting there.

“Just a little family matter. Nothing to bother you with. Congratulations!” My mother smiles as she looks up at him.

“I am concerned,” Asher responds, leveling them both with a lethal look. “I’m concerned you just struck my wife’s best friend. Lay another finger on her, and I’ll have you buried six feet under before you can even move your bought and paid for lips,” he snarls into my mother’s face.

I wish I had a video going so I could re-watch over and over again the sight of my mother shrinking.

“It won’t happen again,” Harry intervenes. “Our apologies for bringing this ugliness to your party.”

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