“Of course not, Daddy,” I bite out. “For starters, I’m not dead. Plus, I don’t have a cock!” My father’s lip curls as if he’s smelled something bad.
“We all know about that now, don’t we?” my mother says snidely. She looks over at Mateo. “Andrea gave us the most awful time as a child. Didn’t you, darling?”
“Really? How so?” Mateo asks. I stare back down at my soup, knowing exactly where this is heading.
“Well, there was a nasty business at school when she was a teen.” She rolls her eyes. “Got her photo plastered everywhere.” She drops her tone to a whisper, “Naked photos.” She gives a pained smile. “I don’t know how we survived that ordeal.”
Why? Why does she have to tell him about that?
“She put naked photos of herself up at the school?” Mateo frowns at me. I look away.
“Oh, heavens no! Someone else did that. Stupid girl got involved with a boy who took advantage,” my mother trills. Like it’s some sort of amusing anecdote.
“Advantage?” Mateo’s frowning darkly.
“Oh, you know what teenage girls can be like.” My father rolls his eyes. “Begging for it half the time.”
“How old were you when this happened, Andy?” he asks me. I don’t answer. I’m fighting back tears.
“Old enough to know better,” my father grunts.
“You’re right, dear,” my mother agrees. Wold enough to have your head set on straight, right, Andy?” Every muscle in my body feels prepped for flight, but I know there’s no way out of this.
“Fifteen?” Mateo snaps. “And you never pressed charges?”
“Pressed charges?” my mother asks, aghast.
“Sex with a minor is statutory rape, Steph,” he says. “Not to mention that every one of those photos represents a criminal charge of child pornography. Whoever did it should have been locked up.”
My mother’s mouth hangs open. “Well…we simply thought that she’d learned her lesson, and then—”
“Learned her lesson?” Mateo says. His voice is dangerously soft. My mother shrinks back.
“What line did you say you were in?” my father breaks in.
“I didn’t.” Mateo narrows his eyes at him. “But I understand this.”
‘I see,” my father draws the word out as if mulling it over. “Well, be that as it may, I’m sure you’ll see that you’re here at a bad time.”
“Why would that be, Daddy?” I finally find the strength to speak. I barely recognize myself around these people. This pathetic child waiting for punishment to be doled out. Punishment I somehow believe I deserve.
“Because I have something to discuss with you, Andrea,” my father says. “Family business.” He shoots a look at Mateo.
“What family business?” I press. “Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Mateo, Daddy,” I say firmly. I feel a nudge against my ankle and realize he’s reached a foot out to touch mine.
“If that’s how you feel, then fine,” my father says. “You are to marry Mark Whitlock. Everything’s been arranged.”
I clench my jaw. So, it’s all true. Of course, I’ve known it. But to hear it coming from his own mouth…
“That’s not possible,” I say hoarsely.
“Of course, it’s possible, darling,” my mother says. “And it’s such an incredible privilege, too. The Whitlocks, Andrea…just think!”
“Be quiet, Mother!” I snap at her. I can still feel the soft rub of Mateo’s shoe against my ankle. As ridiculous as it seems, it bolsters me. “I’m not marrying Mark, Daddy,” I tell my father.
“You’ll do as you’re told, girl,” he barks. “Don’t think that coming here with this…this…this person will change the fact that you owe us.”
My eyes go wide. “I owe you?” I choke out. “I fucking owe you?”
