Page 32 of Forgive Me For I Have Sinned

Dorian: I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. You belong to me, Veronica. I've been waiting a long time to have you.

Veronica: Get fucked.

Dorian: Good night, princess.

Furious, I get up when the bus approaches the curb—sick bastard.

Dorian Black is repulsive. I can't imagine being married to a man like that. I don't think I can do it. Every time a nightmare ends, a new one begins.

When board the bus, I stop in the aisle and blink hard. A hooded figure sits in the center with a bird mask on. I plop down on the middle bench with my back against the huge window, looking between the driver and the masked figure. The man has his head bowed like he's asleep, but I know better. He's waiting. I look over his sweater, gloved hands, and pants but can't place him.

It could be Dorian fucking with me, or the Order sent whoever is behind the mask to kill me. Tears prick my eyes.

I don't want to die.

I've thought about it...dying or how would they do it. I think about everything, my life or lack of one. I've never been loved, and maybe it gave me the courage to try and love, but that didn't end up as I envisioned it. Perhaps I wasn't meant to be loved, or to be free, but I don't want to die.

I slide my hand inside my apron, looking for the pen I remember sliding in there and grip the top. I press on it with the pad on my thumb, so the ballpoint locks in place, watching the hooded figure. The bus stops moving, and I hear the airlock hiss and the door open.

I run out of the bus, my breath feeling like sharp glass in my throat, running down the sidewalk toward the gates of my house. My lungs burn, but I manage to look behind me. The lights from inside the bus are shining bright, and when I think it's going to shut the door, a gloved hand keeps it from closing, and the hooded figure steps out. My stomach drops, letting the dread seep in when I see him walking briskly toward me.

I turn and run as fast as I can, tears sliding down my cheeks. Oh God, please. Please. A gloved hand covers my mouth. I'm lifted off the ground, and the night sky feels like it dropped under me. I feel something sharp and everything goes dark.

I wake up in my bed for what feels like a split second. I look under the sheet. My mouth is dry like sandpaper, and I see that I'm naked, except for my panties. I sit up and place a hand over my forehead. Was it a dream? Am I going crazy?

I check my phone for the time and realize it's 9 a.m. and see a missed text.

Dorian: Don't be a bad girl.

Asshole.

* * *

"It is time for your internships. As you may already be aware, they need to be completed at the start of next week. All of you will be assigned a company that is part of a conglomerate to intern. Some of you need a job, and some of you already have jobs," Professor Klein announces to the class.

Professor Klein always wears a suit like he just came from working on Wall Street and fucked his secretary in the lunchroom. His tie is loose, his brown hair looks freshly fucked, and he has a look that screams anywhere but here as he paces with his hands crossed behind him, walking the classroom from end to end.

“A paper is being passed around that includes the contact information, address, and who you will be reporting to for the week. At the end of the week, I want your report on what you learned and how you could improve the company. The CEO will also report on your performance. This is necessary for you to graduate. If you don't complete it satisfactorily, you fail and have to retake this portion of the course in order to graduate."

Good. If I fail, I can buy myself time from marrying Dorian. The paper reaches my desk, and I slide my finger until it stops on my name and follow the dotted line to the company.

Riodrick and Riordan Holdings and Capital Investment.

CEO Alaric Riodrick-Riordan

Report to Sasha Barnes, Executive Secretary

216-445-3800 ext. 251

4321 N. Riodrick Blvd

Kenyan, Ohio, 45874

I sag in my chair and look at the paper, reading it in disbelief. He planned this like some sick joke. I don't have clothes to wear to an internship at a billion-dollar company. I've seen how Alaric dresses in suits that cost more than a used car. I only have gala dresses I've acquired for special occasions and outfits to go to parties from Claire or if my mother called the boutique because my father requested it. Dresses are always for a lavish occasion that can't be worn again––like celebrities getting criticized for wearing the same things twice. I always found that stupid, so every time I had one, I would give it away without my parents noticing; I anonymously delivered it to a female Prey that was similar to my size. No one would question a free ten-thousand-dollar dress delivered to their dorm room. Lizzy didn't when I offered to gift her a prom dress by altering it to fit. It felt good to do something nice for someone. Work clothes were never a priority because the restaurant provided the employees with uniforms, so I never had to save to buy them.

After class, I walk toward the cemetery and stop at the entrance to buy flowers for Alicia. It's a beautiful day. The sun is out, but the trees offer enough shade to sit. Springtime in Kenyan is one of my favorite times of the year because it's not too cold or too hot. It's just right.

I bend and slide my hands over the marble of Alicia's grave, removing the dried leaves. Removing a small water bottle, I fill the flower holders to place the red roses in each.

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