15

This is so good.
I don’t think I’ve ever had a chocolate cake this moist and rich, absolutely delicious.
This apple pie is to die for.
You have to try the lemon, it has the perfect amount of tart and sweet.
I kept my eyes down as the compliments flew around the table.
Carter, have Mahalia come in for a moment, please.
I saw Carter glance at me before nodding toward his mother and disappearing through the kitchen doors. He returned a few minutes later with very nervous looking Mahalia.
Mrs. Stephens, Ma’am ? Mahalia kept her eyes lowered as she spoke.
Mahalia, darling. I just wanted to thank you for making such delicious desserts.
Mahalia eyes met mine and I gave a quick shake of my head. It was a futile attempt.
I’m sorry Mrs. Stephens, but I have to decline your compliments.
And why is that Mahalia ? Mrs. Stephens tone turned sour.
Because I did not make them, Ma’am.
Oh, Mrs. Stephens sounded genuinely surprised, And who, may I ask, did ?
Mahalia smiled softly my way as she answered, Ms. Lea, Ma’am.
Lea ?
Yes, Ma’am. She also helped with dinner tonight. If I may say so Ma’am, it was a true pleasure to have her in the kitchen.
Thank you, Mahalia. You are dismissed.
The room remained quiet as Mahalia sipped back into the kitchen.
Well, I guess there is some benefits to wasting your life away as a minimum wage waitress after all.
I couldn’t take anymore. I pushed my chair back and quickly made my way out of the dining room. I pushed the double doors open and took four steps before I felt a strong grip on my arm. I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.
Let me go Carter.
You weren’t excused from dinner, Lea.
I don’t give a rat’s shit. I couldn’t contain the rage any longer as I spun and met Carter’s cold eyes. You expect me to comply with an invisible and unknown set of rules, to dress and act a certain way, to be compliant and walk on freaking eggshells, to be someone I’m not. Your mother expects me to know my place when all do I know is, that the man I saw murder someone kidnapped me and dragged me to God only knows where. So no Carter, I don’t give a shit that I wasn’t excused from dinner.
The double doors opened and Mrs. Stephens stepped out, Young lady, I suggest you keep your tone down and watch your language. It is unbecoming.
I looked from Carter to his mother, Unbecoming, unbecoming. I’ll tell you Mrs. Stephens about what is unbecoming. Being kept here against my will. Being threatened to have a bullet put in my head. Being taken away from everyone I love and care for. That is unbecoming.
I felt a swift sting across my left cheek. My hand flew up to the throbbing skin as my eyes connected with Mrs. Stephens. At least you are alive, you ungrateful little bitch. She turned to Carter. You have some explaining to do. Mrs. Stephens turned and walked calmly back into the dining room.
I jerked my arm free from Carter’s grasp and ran to my room. I let out a scream of frustration as I reached to close the door, only to realize that it was still missing.
My eyes landed on the bed.
I pulled the quilt off and slung it aside and grabbed the silken sheet. Balling it up in my hand, I made my way to the desk and breathed out a sigh of relief when I found some tacks. I worked quickly to tack the the sheet across the door way and let out a deep sigh as I pressed the last tack in place. It would have to work for now.
I turned and rummaged through the dresser and let out a silent word of thank when I found a pair of sweats and a loose fit tee. I threw off the dress and heels and slipped into the casual clothes before picking the quilt up from the floor and hastily throwing it back on the bed. I made my way over to the the book shelf and scanned over the selections. I stopped on the third book from the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, Fifty Shades Freed, snatching it down and holding it to my chest as I grabbed the quilt and walked toward the doors that led to the garden.
I was surprised to find that they were still unlocked and pulled them open, walking quietly down the stone path to one of the arbor ways that I had spied earlier and curled up with the book and quilt and began to read.
I had fallen in love with the characters of Fifty Shades and the underlying story plot and could care less about the BDSM aspects of the story, or what E. L. James so elegantly and bluntly referred to as kinky fuckery.
What drew me in was the man who was broken, the man that had to learn to give love and to accept love, the man that to learn to trust to be able to earn trust, the man that, no matter how powerful he was and how confident he seemed, could be so childlike and insecure in the world around him. I fell in love with the strength that it took for Anastasia to stick by Christian’s side no matter how screwed up he was, the courage it took her to overcome her fears and try new things, and the power she had to either break Christian completely or help him overcome his past, his insecurities, and his fears and become the man he wanted to truly be to live his present and his future to their fullest.
Approaching footsteps pulled me from my thoughts and looked up to see one of the guards approaching. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the book.
Ma’am, you shouldn’t be out here.
I didn’t answer.
Ma’am,
I heard you the first time. I’m just choosing to pretend that you aren’t here.
Samuel ? Carter’s voice sounded through the shoulder radio the guard carried.
Yes sir, I have eyes on her. Northeastern Arbor.
Make sure she doesn’t leave. He sounded pissed.
Yes, Sir.
I closed the book and closed my eyes knowing that it would only be a matter of time before I had to face angry, cold, steel eyes.
I didn’t realize how tired I was and I didn’t care that Carter was on his way. I didn’t care that he was pissed. I didn’t care that his mother was some queen bee in whatever hell I was now an unwilling a part of. And I didn’t care that I had basically told everyone at dinner how I had come to be at the house.
I was just down right exhausted, both mentally and emotionally.
I felt my book being eased out of my hand and the quilt being wrapped around me as strong arms lifted me. I couldn’t open my eyes and I couldn’t fight to get free.
I listened to the steady steps as I was carried away from my nook and felt myself being laid down and the quilt being adjusted around me but I still could not respond.
I scrunched my eyebrows as rough lips pressed softly against my forehead.
Dammit, Lea. What have I gotten myself into ?
Funny, I keep asking myself that same thing.
Carter’s P. O. V.
I laid Lea down, tucked the handmade quilt around her, and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, Dammit Lea. What have I gotten myself into ?
Yes Carter, what exactly have you gotten yourself into ?
My mother stood against the door frame, her arms folded tightly across her chest. I stood and walked out of Lea’s room and toward my office. I didn’t say a word, I didn’t have to. I knew that Mother would be hot on my heels, ready to bust my balls for bringing Lea here instead of disposing of a witness.
I opened the door and held it as she glided gracefully to the black leather sofa and sat down. I walked in behind her and leaned against my desk directly across from her.
Who the hell is she Carter ? There was no denying the venom in her voice.
Victoria Stephens was the matriarch of our organization, the one everyone ultimately answered to. And she made sure that everyone knew their places, and if they tried to overstep their boundaries, Mother had no issue with personally showing them the gates of Hell.