“What did I tell you that day?”
“To turn it off.”
He nods like a proud father. “Exactly. Now turn it off and hit him.” He points at the man who still whimpers in pain.
I’ve never disobeyed my father before. I glance at him. “I've got a punching bag in the house,” I answer.
The look in my father's eyes is murderous, he takes a step towards me.
“Turn it off.”
“I can’t.”
“You're weak.” The taunt comes with another cruel smile. “He’s a drug dealer, infecting people, tearing down our youth. Does he not deserve to die?”
I’m picturing my emotions like he taught me. A swirl of colors for each thing I feel. I grab them all but leave red and black swirling inside me. Taking the rest, I push them into a box and lock it.
Hate and Anger fill me up.
Anger trickles into my veins and I clench my fists. I take a step towards the man and he tries to swing away but like my punch bag, he will swing forward.
I don’t hold back.
***
Under the instructions of my father, I wear gloves to the ball. I tore my knuckles nearly down to the bone. They ache, but I use the pain as a crutch to carry me through tonight.
As I enter the room full of people, I know all the ladies will be to my right. My eyes immediately seek out Ella. She is wearing another emerald dress only this one is to the floor; it catches her in all the right places. Wild wide eyes stare back at me and I give her a cold smile. With her black hair swept back off her face, she can’t hide from me.
I see her heavy inhale as I release her from my stare. When I become the real Master, this tradition will be banished. It’s not just the ladies here tonight, members of the community are here and their families. The room is full, but I don’t seek anyone else out.
I sit in a chair like an imposter. I hate it. I hate the clothes I wear. I stretch my hands and hiss as the pain travels up my arms.
Mark walks to me. “Master Lucas, shall we commence?”
I nod at him and grind my teeth in irritation. I want this over with now.
Once again each girl is presented in front of me giving their names, I know I’m meant to say something nice about them, but I can’t find one thing to say about all the pretty things that are dangled in front of me.
They all curtsy and smile sweetly, when I don’t return their smiles, Mark hurries on to the next one.
Ella is presented and she refuses to meet my eye, her curtsy is the shortest one, like she’d rather spit on me. I tighten my fingers around the claw of the chair. Pain races up my arm.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes snap to me and her pulse pounds in her neck. I rise from the chair, knowing we have captured the room. Making slow precise steps to Ella, I stop only a foot from her. Mark looks at me wearily.
“I’m starting to think you like me, Ella.” She bristles at my words. I close the distance between us and speak low, just for her.
“You say you don’t want me, yet at every chance you crave my attention.”
“What are you talking about?” Her eyes grow wider and I see that temper rising.
“Of course I’ll dance with you,” I speak loudly and while she’s in a moment of confusion, I take her hand and lead her to the floor. I don’t know why I’m doing this. Pulling her close to my body, she releases a hard breath, her body flush with mine. Her small hand in mine looks tiny and I think of how easy it would be to crush it. Another voice in my head tells me not to hurt her. She’s stiff and I tighten my hold on her waist. She tenses. Her hand barely touches my shoulder.
Now that I have her in my hands, I don’t know what to say. Striking green eyes flicker up to me and I find my eyes trailing down to her lips. The box with my emotions in it is opening. I slam it shut and tighten my hand on hers, not tight enough to hurt her but to hurt me.
“I would like to ask permission to go home?”
I look down at her now. “Did someone die?” What could her reason be?
She looks confused with furrowed brows before she shakes her head. “No. I just would like a pardon. Please.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. “A pardon from what?”
She raises her head even higher, but I see the fear trickle into her eyes. I stop dancing but don’t release her.
“A pardon from marrying you.”
CHAPTER NINE
ELLA
His eyes hold emptiness like I’ve never seen before. He’s beautiful and terrifying all at once. I’m on a tightrope as he stares at me, and I’m not sure if I’ll fall and hit the ground hard. I want to take my words back; I want to grab them and shove them down my throat. I don’t know how long we stand in that frozen state while he radiates pure anger, and my own fear grows with each second.
“No.” His hands tighten on me and his face tenses as he continues dancing, breaking us from our frozen stance only to enter a more dangerous phase. His anger is tightening around my throat.
“There are six others.” I challenge, keeping my voice low. I hate how my voice shakes, betraying me. He works a muscle in his jaw before releasing a hard sigh. His eyes snap to mine and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I feel all my bravery withering away with the look he gives me.
I drop my gaze. The dance feels so long. I’m aware of everywhere our bodies touch; I’m aware of his fisted hand on my hip. His hold on my hand has loosened. My chest aches and I close my eyes allowing him to lead me around the room.
My treacherous body loves the feel of him so close. His breath brushes my face and I slowly raise my lashes to find him looking at me. The dance stops and he releases me like I’ve burnt him. I curtsey, but he turns his back on me and walks away. The dismissal is shown to everyone in the room. I can hear the girls behind me start to chirp.
As I turn all eyes are on me, some gleeful in Lucas’s dismissal, some watching me wondering how I snagged the first dance. Vicky looks like she’s ready to chew me up and spit me out. I seek out Hannah with her soft blue eyes.
“Are you okay?” She mouths.
No, I’m not.
I nod and walk completely off the dance floor and to the bar, away from Hannah’s prodding eyes, away from all the curious stares. I refuse to cry. I refuse to let anyone see the turmoil that thrashes through my veins.
The bar area is empty as I arrive and I grip the counter to center myself.
“What can I get you?”
I glance up at the bartender. “Water please.” I wait, not thinking and focus on the feel of the wood under my fingers. It’s cool and sleek. Maybe it was recently polished. Was it polished to have this room looking perfect for the first ball? A twisted fairytale, that’s what this had turned out to be.
One. Two. Three. Four….I count the bottles on the top shelf. I didn’t want to think anymore.
“Ella,” Alex says my name like he is pained.
I accept my water from the bartender. “Please, Alex. Leave me alone.” I take a sip slowly without looking at him.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I peer at him sideways. My stomach tightens. “Go away,” I hiss. Is he trying to get me into trouble? If Lucas saw us talking, what would he do? And especially now that I have asked to go home.