I take a look at the front page of the packet. It says:
Purchase Agreement between
Courtney Frederick
Owner, Youth Horizons
And
Adrienne Hamilton
Founder, Hamilton Youth Foundation
There is a yellow tag sticking out from the last page in the packet. I flip to it. There are two lines on the page. One of them has Courtney’s signature on it. The other is blank, but has my name underneath of it. With tears in my eyes, I look from Marshall to Courtney, and back again.
“Is this what I think it is? Am I reading this correctly?” I ask.
Courtney stands and says, “Marshall came to me, a few months ago, with questions on starting a non-profit foundation. He knew that you wanted to start one after your graduation. At that time, I had already been thinking about moving on. I’m in my sixties now, and it’s not getting easier to keep up with all of the kids. You’re so good with them and they absolutely adore you.”
Marshall chimes in, “Courtney and I talked many things over. We knew that you would fight as hard as you needed to in order to make this happen on your own. But we also wanted to remind you that you don’t need to fight by yourself anymore. You have people in this world that love you and want to help and support you. So we came up with a plan and put it in motion. All you need to do is sign that paper.”
“I don’t know what to say. I think I need to sit down.” Marshall grabs me by my arm and helps me sit down. He squats down on the floor beside me with a look of concern on his face.
“Are you okay? This is what you wanted. What you’ve been dreaming of.”
“I’m more than okay. I’m amazed. I’m overwhelmed. I’m so grateful to both of you. I just can’t believe it!” I laugh a little through my tears.
“Believe it baby. It’s all yours.”
Present Day
Lana
BANG!
My eyes fly open.
The prayers that are floating around in my head fizzle away. I feel something hard hit my forearm, stopping me from bringing the gun further toward my temple.
I look to my right to see Lock, an almost confused look on his face, staring at me. He has a hold of my forearm in his left hand. His right arm no longer has the gun aimed at me, but at Barrett.
I stand there in complete shock, not only because of the events that unfolded over the last hour, but also because I was going to do it. I was going to shoot myself. Holy shit. I was going to end my life, and in that moment I was content.
I don’t get much of a chance to let that sink in before Lock nudges me backward, away from him, and I fall to the floor on weak knees. When I look up at him, his face looks withdrawn. He opens his mouth to speak to me, but his eyes appear as though they’re looking straight through me.
“You’ll never be her,” he says.
He stands there, looking down at me for a few seconds. Then, he turns toward the door and walks out, ordering Skylar, Reese, and Carter to dispose of the body and clean up the mess.
What the hell does that mean?
* * *
A few minutes later, I burst through the door of my room. I make it to the toilet in the bathroom just before getting sick. I can’t process what just happened. Any of it. The torture. The fact that I was going to kill myself. The fact that I was content with the thought of dying.
I stay there, kneeling on the floor, head in the toilet, for what seems like hours. Finally, when I couldn’t stand the numb feeling in my legs any longer, I get up and take a shower.
When I am finished with my shower, I head back into my room and notice that Norah has brought lunch. My stomach turns at the thought of food. I walked past it and get into bed.
I was in a large room. It was mostly dark, but there was soft light flickering in the background. I was so happy and light, it felt like I was floating. I twirled around and around, like a dance, creating wind.
All of a sudden, the soft light turned into flames. I started running. I ran out of the room and into the hallway. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in flames, licking their way closer and closer to me. I ran as fast as I could. I could hear a voice behind me scream “You’ll never escape!” The voice scared me. Up ahead I saw the letter “E”. That has to be the exit. I told myself to run faster. Run toward the exit.
Once I was through the door, I ran into a hard wall. I looked up. It wasn’t a wall, but a man. He looked down at me with beautiful green eyes and told me I was free.
“Ms. Lana, it’s time to wake up.”
Norah. She’s sweet as pie, but I was so tired that I could punch her.
“What time is it?”
“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, dear.”
“I can’t get up right now, Norah. Can you come back later?”
“Miss, you have the banquet this evening. We need to get you out of bed, showered, and dressed.”
“Norah, the banquet isn’t for another two days.”
“No miss. Today is Friday. You’ve been sleeping since Wednesday afternoon.”
“Oh.”
“Come on. Get up out of bed and let’s get you cleaned up.”
* * *
I am drying off and putting my robe on when I see Lock through the reflection in my bathroom mirror. He is standing next to my bed holding a large white box with a big black bow. It’s a Carolina Herrera dress.
Every time we have an event that we need to get dressed up for, he buys me a Carolina Herrera dress. I asked him about it once, and he dismissed my question immediately. I stand up and walk out into the bedroom, noticing that there is also a bag on the bed.
“Here’s your dress for this evening.” He puts the box down on the bed and picks up the bag. “This is the lingerie that you’re to wear.”
“Okay,” I answer as I reach out to take the bag from him.
He turns and I think that he is getting ready to walk out of my bedroom, but he walks over to the black wingback chair and sits down. I pick up the box and begin to take it, as well as the bag, over to my closet to get dressed.
“No!” Lock shouts making me jump. “You’ll get dressed over here.”
I swallow nervously and make my way over to the sitting area where he is located. I place the bag and the box on my table and slowly take off my robe.
I look toward Lock, who has a smug grin on his face and a large bulge in his pants. He absolutely disgusts me.
“Go slow. Put on a show for me, baby. Set the mood for this evening and, if you do a good job, I promise to let you enjoy yourself.”
I fight back the bile rising in my throat and take the lingerie out of the bag. Everything is sheer black material. Bra. Thong. Garter belt. Thigh-high stockings. The works.
I put the thong on, wanting to cover that area first, and then I follow up with the bra. Once everything else is on, I start pulling the bow off of the box.
“Come over here first,” Lock orders.
I let go of the bow and walk over to Lock, stopping right in front of him. He sits forward and reaches out to me, grabbing my hips and pulling me toward him. His hands move to my ass and his fingers run down between my cheeks. He leans his head in toward my pussy and bites the front of my thong. He pulls it to one side and uses one of his hands to hold it in place.
He runs his nose through my slit and his tongue follows behind. He flicks my nub with the tip of his tongue. One of his fingers presses further between my cheeks and finds my puckered hole. He begins to massage it while his tongue continues to flick away at my clit.
As much as he disgusts me, as much as I don’t want to like what he is doing, as much as I try holding my gasp in, I can’t. I whimper and it makes him smile. He gives my clit one last flick and then removes his tongue and his finger at once.
“My turn.” He takes me by surprise when he stands and pushes me down in front of him.
Still shocked, I don’t move. I’m staring straight ahead when he yells, “What are you waiting for? I thought you knew your r
ole. Do I need to explain it to you once again?” I flinch as he lifts his hand, getting ready to backhand me.
“No!” I scream.
I move my hands to his belt and fumble with the buckle. Once it’s undone, I unzip his suit pants and pull his cock through the opening of his boxer briefs.
I take it into my hand and begin pumping up and down. Twisting slightly as I go, just how he likes it. He sits back down in the chair.
“Your mouth, I want it on my cock now. I want it so far down your throat that you choke.”
I place his cock in my mouth and push all the way down until I can’t go any further and my eyes start to water. I bring my head up and drop it down again, covering it in a thick layer of my saliva. I repeat this motion a few more times, but it isn’t enough.
He forces his cock from my mouth so he can remove his belt from around his waist. Then, he pushes my head down forcing my mouth back onto his cock.
He takes his belt in both of his hands and uses it to force my head down further which pushes his cock deeper into my throat. My air supply is very limited in this position and after about a minute I start to see spots.
I slap at him to let him know that I need air and he finally eases up on the pressure around the back of my neck. I free his cock from my mouth and gasp for air.
I can hear his laugh start rumbling deep within his stomach and make its way up his chest before escaping through his mouth.
I still haven’t had much time to recover before he pushes my head back down and his cock is forced down my throat again. He repeats this several times before his hot, salty arousal shoots into the back of my throat.
“The salt should help to make your throat feel better,” he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his pants.
I shakily lift myself to a standing position and I back up in to the bed. I sit down before I lose my balance.
Lock stands up and walks toward me, refastening his belt. He reaches out and takes my face in his hand. He squeezes my cheeks, forcing my lips to pucker up. He leans in and kisses me before letting go of my face. “Now go make yourself pretty for me.”
April 2014
Adrienne
Like most girls, I’ve had my wedding planned since I was young. I remember talking to my friends about it at slumber parties when we were growing up. We would cut pictures out of magazines and make collages with them.
Picturing my wedding has always been exciting, but seeing it now that it’s come to life leaves me speechless.
When we arrive at the bridal tent, stepping out of the limo was like stepping into Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Ever since I read the book, I knew that I wanted a fairytale wedding in the forest. It’s an uncharacteristically hot day for April, but it feels perfect under the canopy of tall trees.
Directly in front of me is a path lined with purple, yellow, and red wild flowers. Further down the path, just before it curves to the left, there is a wooden bridge with a babbling brook running underneath. I can’t see the site where the ceremony will be held due to the curve of the path, but I know it’s just as gorgeous thanks to the natural décor of the forest.
Just to the right of where we exited the limo, there is a bridal tent. The tent is held up by wooden posts on all four corners, as well as the middle of each side panel. Thick pieces of twine hang from the tree overhead and are anchored to the sand colored fabric, creating a tall ceiling.
The inside panels are thin and gauzy, only offering a shadow of what is inside. Definitely not enough for any passers-by to see us getting ready.
The outer panels, which look to be made out of canvas, are tied back to the posts, creating a doorway for us to enter. About 100 yards on the other side of the path is a matching tent, set up for Marshall and his groomsmen.
“Let’s get a move-on, sweetie,” Noelle grabs my attention. “Marshall and the guys are only 10 minutes behind us. We need to get to our tent before they arrive and catch a glimpse of the bride.”
“It’s just so breathtaking. I could stand here for hours,” I answer.
“It is gorgeous. It is going to be an absolutely beautiful ceremony.”
* * *
“Adrienne, do you need any more champagne?” Leah asks.
Leah, Noelle, Eleanor, Bianca, and Morgan are all in the tent, getting ready for the ceremony.
“Sure, but just a little bit. I don’t want to drink too much and fall over at the altar,” I laugh.
“Here, I’ll throw a few strawberries in it to make you feel better!” she laughs as she hands me my glass.
“Let’s let these rollers sit for about 20 minutes. The waves will be a little tighter than you want, but they will fall a bit while we’re waiting for the ceremony to start, and then they will look exactly as you want them to.” Gianna is another one of my bridesmaids, as well as a great friend and my beauty connoisseur. She is currently working her magic and I know that my hair will look stunning. “In the meantime, let’s work on your makeup.”
“Just remember, I want something very natural. I don’t want it to look like I have a lot on.”
“Adrienne, you trust me with your beauty care for a reason, remember? Now, tip your glass back and relax!”
“Okay, okay. I’m relaxed, I promise.” I lie as all of the girls look at me with skeptical looks on their faces.
I take a sip of my champagne. “This is actually fantastic. Just what I needed, thank you.”
“Okay girls,” Noelle starts, “let’s get you all into your dresses. We need you to be one-hundred percent finished getting ready by the time Adrienne is ready to put her dress on.”
“Just one more minute,” says my photographer. “I’ve gotten some amazing candid photos, but I want to get one with the girls surrounding the bride with their shirts on.”
The girl’s line up to the left and right of me and the photographer takes her shot.
“Very nice! That’s great, thank you ladies. I am going to go get some shots of the guys and then some of the guests as they arrive. I’ll be back in time to get more pictures once Adrienne is ready to get her gown on.”
“Okay,” says Noelle, “time to get dressed.”
Within twenty minutes, the girls are nearly finishing changing into their lavender, floor length organza dresses. The high-neck halter dress wraps around the base of the neck leaving the back of the dress open. The front has a lace pattern that is embroidered from the high neck, spreading down the front left-side of the dress mimicking a falling vine of ivy.
“Oh my goodness, you girls look so beautiful in your dresses!” Noelle exclaims. “You all made a fantastic choice with these gowns.”
“Well, Adrienne all but forced us to get them,” Eleanor replies while rolling her eyes, her tone thick with sarcasm.
“She really didn’t have a choice in the matter. We kind of threatened to quit the wedding if we couldn’t wear them. They just fit with the theme too much. There is no way we could have passed them up,” Bianca explains.
“They really are perfect. I’m glad you guys found them. They are exactly what I imagined them to be. They really fit the tone of the day.”
“And,” Morgan starts, “they complement your dress perfectly!”
Gianna is the last one to finish getting dressed. Once she’s done, she walks over to the tall-director’s style chair that I’m sitting in. “We need to get you into your dress before we take the curlers out. I don’t want the weight of the dress to flatten your hair when you put it on.”
* * *
I stand there in awe, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My body is wrapped in an ivory colored, floor-length satin dress, completely overlaid in matching colored lace. The straps that hold up the V-neck are made of three-inch thick lace. The back of my dress is the exact mirror of the front, but with a chapel length train. There is an ivory colored, satin bow sewn around the waist of the dress that, when it’s tied, hangs down to my knees.
My hair hangs in loose waves, stopp
ing just below the curve of my breasts. My veil consists of pearls strung around a piece of wire that fits perfectly around the crown of my head. There are several panels of thin tulle tied around the wire at the nape of my neck, which flows down to the top of my backside. Between each panel, the wire is adorned with fresh purple anemones, peach ranunculus, and jasmine.
I’ve never been one to get dolled up to go out and I don’t wear a ton of make-up. My hair is usually in a messy bun on the top of my head. But today, today I look and feel like a princess.
My thoughts are interrupted by the shrill squeals coming from my friends’ mouths. I turn to them and join in on their excitement, just as the photographer tells us she wants to take some more staged photos of the girls and I.
Marshall
“I’d like to make a toast,” my dad states as he raises his beer high in the air.
I’m standing in the groom’s tent, surrounded by my dad and my groomsmen, John, Greg, Keith, Mark, and Lock.
“To my son. May your future be filled with nothing but love and happiness. You’ve found yourself an amazing woman and I couldn’t be more happy or proud of you.”
My groomsman shout a collective “here, here” while raising their own glasses in the air before clinking them together.
“…and sex!” shouts John. The guys all laugh and shout another “here, here.”
“Thank you everyone. It really means a lot to have all of you stand at the altar with me today.”
I turn and look at Lock. This man is not only my best friend, but someone who has also become part of my family since we started our company together seven years prior. I raise my glass to him.
“Lock, you’re like a brother to me. You’ve been my rock over the years, especially after Caitlin blew my world apart like a tornado. Your approval of Adrienne means everything to me and the fact that you guys have forged your own close friendship is just the icing on the cake. She thinks of you as the brother she never had and we are both so honored that you will be the one to walk her down the aisle.”
Stolen Love (The Wildheart Duet Book 1) Page 8
