"Open it!"
He jumped at my shout, rolled his eyes, then sighed and opened the box.
In it were two red boxes, each wrapped with their own sparkling white bow.
"See—"
"Those too."
"Ma'am—"
"Those. Too," I bit out.
He sighed again and mumbled, "Crazy broad," under his breath. Then he opened the boxes.
In one was a long gown, while the other held a diamond necklace. They may have been beautiful, but that beauty was empty.
My father used to dress me, give me jewelry, just to parade me around. He enjoyed showing off his hold on me, allowing people a taste at what it would feel like to lead me around on a tight leash while they stomped the life out of me.
He made a mockery of me. He couldn't leave me alone, let me have a single piece of the freedom I craved, or let me live what was supposed to bemylife.
No. He wanted control of every minute of every day, and the moment he found it slipping, he decided to take the one thing, the one person who mattered to me.
"I don't care what you do with the packages, but I'm not accepting them," I said in a low voice.
"But ma'am?—"
I slammed the door in his face and made it two steps before my legs gave out, then I slid down the nearest wall.
My heart pounded so hard my chest rattled with each beat. The world seemed both too close and too far, like a thousand eyes were staring at me, while I could do nothing but cower under their scrutiny.
Then my phone rang.
The sound seemed almost out of reach, but it kept ringing and ringing, until it finally pierced through the noise in my mind.
I accepted the call without looking at the ID.
"What's wrong, Lina? Did you really hate my gifts that much?"
Marco?
My heart skipped a beat. He was alive, safe, fornow.
But then my panic came back in full force.
Every bit of fear I felt and care I had for him melded together. I choked in a breath, trying to keep quiet so he couldn't hear how afraid I was.
"Lina? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's wrong?" I shouted. Words poured out of me, a mixture of fury and rage that wasn't even meant for him, but I gave it to him, regardless. "What's wrong is that you think I'm some sort of whore you can run around and dress up however you want."
Stop.Stop, it isn't his fault.
But another voice, something deeper, stronger,sharper,was louder.Push him away to keep him safe or else his death will be on your hands.
"Lina, I didn't mean?—"
I choked back a sob and forced myself to bite out. "No. Don't call me again. Don't come near me. I don't want to see you. I don't want to bewithyou."
