Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I pick up the cup and sip, trying not to wince when the bitter twang of an added lemon hits my tongue and explodes over my taste buds. “It’s perfect, thank you,” I lie, offering her a tight smile.
“So, what brings you home with no forewarning? Your father said you would be away at least another month.”
“Things change. I don’t believe I’m in any danger. There’s no motivation for someone to want to hurt me. I’m no threat to anyone.” I shake my head and laugh, but it’s awkward and makes me squirm a little when her face remains stoic.
“Someone tried to run you down,” she reminds me. “I would hardly say you’re not in danger. Something like that can have so many ramifications. The psychological effects can be life-altering.”
Quirking a brow at her, I snort and place my cup back on the dresser. “I’m fine, Marjorie, just fed up with living like a hidden princess. I want this over with. I refuse to live my life in such a way. My father is going to be heading for the White House, and surely I can’t be hidden away forever.”
My head swims a little and my heart begins to slow inside my chest. Smacking my lips together, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and feel nothing. It’s numb. What the hell?
“You look tired. I’m going to run you a nice bath. Drink your tea,” Marjorie insists before going into my bathroom. I turn to the cup and reach out, but my limbs are awkward and long, heavy, uncooperative. The china cup topples from my unsteady grasp and crashes to the floor, shattering like my sanity over my wood panels. Fog clouds my mind, soaking me in its damp mist. What’s happening to me?
“You know,” Marjorie’s voice sounds distorted. I can make out the sound of running water and her shadowy figure standing in the doorway to the bathroom. “Jack was born to become president. With a little push in votes, he could have it all. This,” she says, gesturing with her arms at me. “You coming home alone like this was fate. I planned on asking Jack to bring you home. I was going to show him the distasteful images I had my guy taking of you.”
“What?” I slur, attempting to stand, but my legs become Jell-O. I fall back to my ass on the bed.
“You think I would allow those men to take you off without me keeping tabs on you?” She lets out a mocking laugh. “You’re a product, Clove. Your very being can make or break your father. A scandal right now when he’s this close would destroy him. Us. I know you’re fucking those men like a disgusting whore who gets passed around like a bottle of cheap whiskey. Everyone gets a swig and buzz. They devalued and disgraced you. Is it them who had you running back here? Were they done playing pass the parcel?”
“Stop,” I snap, my thoughts swimming in mud. Her words are making sickness crawl up my throat and invisible dirt stick to my skin, covering me in shame.
Who is this woman replacing the Marjorie I’ve known nearly my entire life?
Walking over to me, her face comes so close to mine I can smell the cigarettes on her breath. I didn’t know she smoked. Her lip curls as she studies me, her face saying all the things her words never have. I’m a problem. An insignificant bug that’s flown into her home that she needs to get rid of. Humming begins pounding in my skull.
“What did you do to me?” I weep, trying to clasp onto her but grasping air.
“I added something to your tea to help you relax in the bathtub, and you’ve been struggling to cope after the near miss. And then, of course just breaking up with your future husband William. Everything combined just took its toll on you. The many nights I found you crying in your bedroom. My heart breaks for how lost you were, and I couldn’t do anything to help you. You were just so broken.”
My stomach twists at her words.
“Marjorie,” I breathe.
“You were so depressed and we should have seen this coming. I mean, you were never the same after your mother’s sad end. This was inevitable.”
“Don’t speak of my mother,” I heave out, losing my breath.
“Your mother was a sacrifice to a greater cause. With her tragic death, sympathy poured in, launching your father’s political career. Of course the idea of getting her out of the way was so I could take her place. I didn’t think it would take this long. Once you’re gone, though, he’ll find comfort in my arms and together we will start anew.”
“No.” I try again to stand but fall to the floor. Tiny pinpricks cut into my knees as I land on the broken china. The bedroom door opens and heavy footsteps pound over the wood flooring, coming to rest at where I’m struggling to right myself. Strong hands reach under my armpits and tug me up, before I’m thrown back onto the bed like I’m weightless.