Invisible leash, p.12
Invisible Leash, page 12
part #1 of The Cross Series
Gag. Me.
I came up for air, my hair fanning out around me like a mermaid. I wasn’t cheating on Lincoln. Not technically, at any rate. I’d made it clear that we could both have sex outside our relationship if we’d wanted to. And whether he wanted to or not wasn’t my concern. I’d never tell him about Jacob, though. I wouldn’t risk losing all I’d worked hard to gain over the past few months. And I’d never risk jeopardizing what Jacob and I had by doing that, either.
I washed my arms with an exfoliating puff, scrubbing so hard I took off more than enough dead skin by accident. I hated having these conflicting feelings. I vowed that I’d never become one of those women who needed a man to survive. And yet I knew I needed Jacob more than I needed air. I stepped out of the tub and wrapped my burgundy satin robe around me.
Time to face another day as Lincoln’s perfect girlfriend.
I put on white undergarments and blow dried my hair. I kept my makeup light, before pulling on a blush flowy skirt and a light pink silk shirt.
It was appropriate attire for my mother’s monthly tea party, hosted by a group of ladies who called themselves The Elite Women of the Upper East Side. Most of them were all as ridiculous as their name suggested. But my mother had insisted that my sister and I accompany her—probably because she thought it would be too boring to go alone.
The intercom buzzed, alerting me that my mother’s car was waiting downstairs. When I slid into the back seat beside my sister, I could see that she was about as excited as I was about the whole event. The dress she was wearing must have put her in such a foul mood—she hated dresses.
“Why do we have to tag along?” Sierra mumbled, her arms crossed as she stared sullenly out the window. “Honestly, I’d rather be back at school.”
I just shrugged and crossed my arms as well.
“Come on, Sierra,” our mother cajoled, turning around in the front passenger seat to face us. “And Sage, you better not be pouting, either. You know how I feel about this tea group. It’ll be more fun with my girls next to me.” She winked before turning around to face the front again.
I sighed, knowing that my mom loathed going to events held by these Upper East Side bitches.
They talked about nothing but who was screwing whom or who had lost it all on the stock market.
The driver brought the car to a halt in front of an impressive limestone row house worth a cool thirty mil.
“Why do you keep going every month if you hate it so much, Mom?” I whispered to her as we stepped out of the car.
She looked away before she faced me again. “Your father insists on it.” She held out her arm for me to hook mine through. Sierra was walking in front of us, kicking rocks as she went.
“Didn’t manage to do her hair, huh?” I joked, nodding towards my sister’s bedraggled bob.
My mom let out an exasperated breath and shook her head. “You know her. She would have thrown a tantrum. She kept going on about how unfair it was that she had to go while Caleb didn’t have to.”
“Well, she’s got a point,” I muttered.
My mom squeezed my arm. “He isn’t going to change any time soon, now is he?” she said, talking about my father, trying to keep the misery out of her voice.
“Maybe it’s not him who needs to change. Maybe we do,” I said, the truth of my words hanging heavy in the air.
Suddenly, it all felt like too much to bear. I couldn’t stand it anymore. And if I didn’t do something to change this vicious cycle, poor Sierra would be following in my miserable footsteps in a few years.
“Let’s have lunch after this, okay?” I said to my mom as we approached the heavy front doors. “We need to talk.”
After we were ushered into the mansion by a butler, Sierra sat down at a table and caught up with some of the other teenagers who had also been forced to spend their morning in attendance. While my mom mingled with the other women, I chatted with Veronica, a notary and one of the few Elites who actually had a career. She was the only person in the whole room who might actually be a viable contact for me after the election.
Afterwards, I sat down next to Sierra. “Here,” I said, setting down a plate of various chocolates in front of her. “This should put a smile on your face.”
She brightened but only slightly. “I should be reading one of the classics right now,” she said between bites.
And I should be kissing some baby at some public library in Buffalo.
Truth be told, I was glad to have an excuse to get a day off from the campaign trail.
I watched as Sierra ate six chocolate-covered strawberries without having a care in the world about calories. She was just like me in that department. Then again, our mother was lean, too. It ran in the family.
“Just be happy. Think about something else,” I told her, taking a sip of my champagne. “It’ll be over eventually.”
Life’s a bitch, and then you die.
Still, I felt sorry for the girl. I knew what she was going through because I had gone through it myself as a teenager. Hell, I was still going through it.
Finally, it was over and the three of us went to Daniel, a restaurant that was usually impossible to get into without reservations. Lucky for us, we were ushered straight in. At least there were some perks to having my personal life plastered all over the front page.
“So, Sage, what did you want to talk about?” my mother asked after Sierra had finished her lengthy rant about the injustice of having to spend her entire morning with a bunch of rich hags.
I swallowed a bite of my salad. “I want a job,” I said quietly. “I mean, a real job.”
Sierra grinned as she sank yet another chunk of French bread into her four-cheese spinach dip. “What, you don’t want to settle for just being an Elite Woman of the Upper East Side?” she asked.
We smirked at each other.
My mother tactfully ignored the remark. “But what about your job with Lincoln? Surely that’s more than enough to keep you busy. And you could take on a lot more responsibilities with charities.”
I sighed. “I’m getting some experience, I guess. But I want to get my own job once the campaign is over—one that I earn on my own merit.” I took a sip of Perrier and lowered my voice. “And besides, I’m going to leave Lincoln as soon as the election’s over.” My voice was firm. I wanted my mother to know that I was not going to change my mind on this.
Sierra was so surprised by my announcement that she started to choke on her orange juice.
“Sage,” my mom said in a warning tone. She looked pointedly at Sierra, letting me know that she would have much preferred if I’d discussed this without my sister present. But I didn’t care. I was going to change the rules for us Cross girls, with or without her help.
When Sierra stopped coughing, she gave me her first smile of the day. “Good for you, Sage!” she said proudly.
“Sierra, please,” my mom hushed her. Then she turned her concerned eyes on me. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Sage?” she whispered. “Even if it will make life much, much more difficult for you in the future?”
“Hell yes,” I said, a little too loudly.
The people at the next table looked over at me. I furrowed my brows at them.
“Yes,” I repeated, more gently this time. “I’m done living under Father’s thumb. You, of all people, should understand that. So, either you’re with me, or you’re not.”
“I’m with you,” Sierra enthused.
But my mother remained silent.
“Mom?” I prompted.
She hesitated, then took another sip of chardonnay. “What you’re saying is admirable,” she finally began. “Truly it is. But life isn’t quite so simple. You’ll see, one day, that some things are just easier to deal with when you don’t have to worry about paying the bills.” She lowered her eyes. “Like ensuring that you can provide what’s best for your children, for example.”
“I’m not even sure I want kids,” I pointed out. “And besides, what good is money without freedom?”
“Believe me, you could do much worse than Lincoln. You told me that he takes care of you—that he truly cares for you. Right?”
“Yes, he does. But I don’t want to be taken care of. Maybe what I want is love.”
“Oh, Sage. Even with someone you love, there’ll be times you’ll want to smack him, run away, and never come back.”
“That’s fine,” I said determined. “So long as I have freedom over my choices.”
My mother sighed. She knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t going to budge.
“Just make sure this is truly what you want before you do something that can’t be undone,” she said matter-of-factly.
Something about her tone infuriated me. She had been complacent for far too long. “What are you so worried about, Mom? Don’t you regret never having worked outside the home? Aren’t you sick of always doing what your husband tells you to do?”
Sierra’s eyes went wide. This was definitely not the sort of thing the women in our family talked about.
I looked over at my mom expectantly, but she said nothing. Perhaps she knew I was right. She just didn’t want to admit it to herself.
“Whatever. I’m out of here,” I said, pushing up from the table and kissing my sister on the forehead on my way past.
“Sage—” I heard my mom call after me, but it was too late. I was already gone.
I couldn’t stand to watch her take his side after all that he’d done. I just couldn’t. Not again.
My mom took out the red dress I’d be wearing for my sixteenth birthday party that night. It was dark red with a sweetheart neckline. The dress itself was short with chiffon all around. It had taken me weeks to decide what to wear. I had planned to pair it with flat black sandals, but my mom had suggested I wear black heels instead. I was a woman now, she said as she tied my hair into a wispy bun at the nape of my neck and expertly applied some makeup.
“You look so pretty!” Sierra’s eight-year-old voice sang out as she pushed into the bedroom, then her expression became thoughtful. “When I turn sixteen and have a coming out party, can I wear pants?”
“We’ll see,” my mother replied, holding back a smile. “There’s still plenty of time to go before then.”
My father poked his head through the door, and I twirled around, showing off my dress for him. When he didn’t say anything, I could feel my heart begin to pound. I knew he’d find a way to criticize what I was wearing. To criticize me.
“Vivian, what on earth does she have on?” my father said, sounding horrified.
My mom did her best to laugh off his comment. “Relax, Ben. You’re the one who wanted to throw her this big fancy party—which is mostly being attended by your friends, by the way. The least I could do was let her choose what she got to wear.”
He put his hands on his waist and glared at my mom. “She’s not supposed to look like a—”
“Like a what?” my mom challenged, clenching her teeth.
“Oh, never mind,” he said, then left.
“He’s so bossy,” Sierra whispered when he was out of earshot. “I think you should keep the dress on,” she added with a smile. I decided to compromise and pulled one of my mother’s pashminas over my shoulders.
Later, when the guests started arriving, I hid in my room. I was sulking there, already knowing that this wasn’t going to be a fun party. It was just an excuse for my father to show me off to the world or something. It was going to be a night full of kissing up to adults, telling them what they wanted to hear. I hated that stuff.
My father knocked on my door and stepped into my room. “Sage,” he began, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me. “I realize this isn’t the party you had in mind for your birthday. But you know we’ve discussed your future many times already. This party is meant as a first step in that regard, to make sure—”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” I interrupted. “I’m just a kid. No one plans their future at my age.”
“Well, they should.”
I rolled my eyes. My father was annoying and controlling. Not to mention old fashioned.
“Enough with the attitude, Sage.” He sighed heavily and turned to face me. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that a woman can’t make it by herself in this world. You need a capable man beside you. Someone with connections. And to catch a man like that, a woman needs her youth.”
I looked away angrily.
“So, you want me to marry some rich dude because I’m too weak and stupid to make it on my own? And you want to start looking for someone for me now, before I’m old and ugly?” I didn’t believe for one second that my mother wanted to go along with this.
He ignored my outburst. “Come on. Let’s go greet your guests.” He got up off the bed and left the bedroom, and I followed. There was no arguing with my father.
The party was pretty dull. I’d invited my friends from school, but truth be told, I didn’t have many. Grace and Amelia showed up, along with a few of my guy friends, but they’d all left early when they realized what a dull party this one was. It was full of people my father knew from business and his social circle, including some faces that I didn’t recognize.
Halfway through the night, just as I’d approached my father to ask if I could be excused for the evening, a middle-aged man with a strong build came over to greet him. He had a big smile and kind eyes.
“Ben. Good to see you,” he said, clapping my father on the shoulder before turning to me. “And what an honor it is to finally meet you.”
“They grow up so fast, don’t they, Stanley?” my father replied, smiling proudly over at me. For that split second, I actually felt happiness building up inside me. My father was proud of me! It was almost as if he cared. He didn’t display that kind of positive attention too often.
The man, Stanley, grinned as he continued to look me up and down. I realized that what I’d mistaken for kindness in his eyes was appraisal. And, apparently, I’d passed some sort of test, for the next thing I knew, Stanley was gesturing for a teenaged boy to come over.
“Jonah, this is Sage,” Stanley said. “My son.”
Jonah nodded and muttered a greeting, though his light green eyes never left the expensive Persian rug beneath his feet.
I was glad when my father put his arm on my shoulder and steered me away from Stanley and his son. “Why don’t you run along now?” he said. “There are lots of guests here who’d like a bit of your attention.” From his tone I could tell it was an order.
I nodded, but instead of going to mingle with the crowd, I went upstairs to hide out for a few minutes in the en suite attached to my bedroom. I was glad that my father had saved me from that awkward situation, but I was also confused.
Hadn’t he basically just said that this whole night was about me “coming out” while I was still young and pretty? All I could figure was that Jonah just wasn’t the sort of future husband my father had in mind.
When I got out of the bathroom, I found two men inside my bedroom, waiting for me. One of them was my father’s friend, Stanley, but I didn’t recognize the other. I was so surprised to see them there that I was speechless.
“What a beautiful room you’ve got here, Sage,” Stanley said, looking around.
I nodded silently, confused as to why these men were in my room. All I knew was that it made me uncomfortable and set off some alarm bells in my head. I turned around, wanting to go back into the washroom and lock the door, but Stanley blocked my path with his frame.
I crossed my shaking arms across my chest, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable. Tears began to pool in my eyes. I looked up to keep them from falling down my cheeks. A lump cropped up in my throat when I looked into their faces. I didn’t have to ask to know what they wanted from me.
“If you touch me, I’ll tell my father,” I threatened, my voice shaking.
Stanley laughed.
“Honey, we hope you’ll tell your father,” said Stanley. “Then you’ll no longer be his most valuable asset. Go ahead, tell him. You’ll see.”
With that, he pushed me onto the bed and began unbuckling his belt. I tried to scream, but his hand was over my mouth in a heartbeat. I looked around madly for an escape route, but with no luck. I began to struggle with all my strength, but Stanley was holding me down. I bit at his hand and he recoiled. Before I could scream, he slapped me hard across the mouth.
The next thing I knew, a sock was pushed into my mouth and I was face down on the mattress with one man tying a belt around my wrists. A series of hands held me down on the bed while I was raped from behind. I’d never felt so claustrophobic in my life. I desperately tried to fight them off, but nothing worked. They were too strong.
After what felt like an eternity, the other man rolled me over onto my back. He was way younger than Stanley. I could see his pants around his ankles and his hand busy at his crotch. A look of confusion and pain crossed his red-headed goateed face, and the next thing I knew, he was spraying his sperm all over my chest. I nearly choked on my sobs.
Stanley, naked from the waist down, came up beside me on the bed. “You want me to remove this, huh?” he asked, indicating the sock stuffed in my mouth.
I was too weak to nod. I just wanted to die.
“Okay, I will,” Stanley agreed. “But only if you promise to do something nice for me once your mouth is free.”
“What are you doing?” shouted his accomplice. “There’s no time to get your dick sucked! We have to go before we get arrested.”
Stanley looked down at me impassively. “I don’t think we need to worry about that,” he said, slowly pulling on his pants before gesturing for the other guy to follow him out of the bedroom. As they left, they didn’t look back at me, not even once.
I cried so much I nearly choked on the sock that remained stuffed in my mouth. I’d rolled off the bed and was crawling around on the floor, not able to get up. My body was in complete pain and utter shock.
Please, please don’t let Sierra find me this way.
I’d never thought that my first time having sex would be this way. I never thought it’d be so painful, either.
