Ms. Calloway (Book 2 in the For Better Or Worse Trilogy)

Chapter 8

     Being as silent as a mouse and as stealthy as a cat on the hunt, I walk down the hall, recollecting the night that I followed this very same path. However, I was walking towards that very room, instead of rushing from it. The memories are used as a map now, leading me towards the staircase. Each step closer grew the excitement that was building in my stomach. So close. Three more steps until I reached the staircase. Yanked backwards, the staircase suddenly felt like a hundred steps too far.

     "Where are you off to, little mouse?" Even though Elijah's words were playful, the hand gripping my arm told me he was anything but. "I doubt my brother would like it very much if his princess escaped."

     "Let me go." I say through gritted teeth, but even I hear the crack in my voice. Something about this man terrified me. This feeling was nothing like the intimidation I felt when I was in the presence of James or Roman. This is the kind of fear that makes your legs shake, a cold sweat develop over your body, and goosebumps rise to your skin. In his black eyes, I can see that he is capable of anything.

     "I don't see what Roman sees in you. I would say he's pussy whipped, but as far as I know, he hasn't gotten any pussy." His face is so close to mine that I can feel the drops of spit as he talks. "I doubt it's worth all the trouble he's gone to. At least Amelia gave it up. She was trouble, but at least she allowed all of us a taste. Made us forget all the chaos she caused. You, on the other hand, aren't offering anything."

     I didn't wanna see the look in his eyes, afraid of what I might find. Hunger. Anger. Frustration. Desperate to release myself from his hold, I twist, throwing all my weight and power into my other fist. With a fist made of iron and a feeling I've never experienced, my fist connects with his eye, causing him to stumble back a few steps. I make a beeline for the staircase, no longer worrying about how much noise I make because Elijah's shouts are gonna give me away anyways. My fingertips meet the cold sting of the doorknob just as it turns and in enters Roman's mom.

     "Oh!" She laughed, surprised to see me. Like Roman, she has very expressive eyes. They could have the most stone-like expressions, but their eyes would always give them away. "Nice to see you up and about. Why don't you get ready for dinner? We're having a traditional Greek dinner like I had when I was about your age. Selene is treating us to Stifado." My southern manners are at war with my need for freedom. However, before I can accept or deny the invite, Isabella is standing at her mom's side, flashing a threatening glare. Clearly, the offer was not so much as an offer, but a demand. I look at the corner of my eyes to find Roman and Scarlette nearby, watching as the scene unravelled before them. Biting the inside of my lip, I nod in an acceptance. "Wonderful!" Mrs. Berkshire claps her hands together. "Isabella, why don't you give her something to wear while we wait for dinner." Isabella looks like she might argue, that is before her own mother flashes her the same threatening glare that Isabella had worn seconds ago. Sighing, like her brother had earlier, she takes my arm and leads me back to the staircase, leaving behind her family and my freedom.

     Once inside her bedroom - which is much more glamorous than Roman's had been, with two diamond chandeliers, gold accents, priceless art, and marble tiles that looked directly imported from Mount Olympus - she turned her fierce gaze on me. "You are the most annoying person I've ever met." She stated matter of factly. She didn't remove her gaze on me, expecting me to have words to respond with. Unable to think of any, she eventually grows bored and marches to her closet that is three times the size of Roman's back at his home. As I inch closer, even with this generous size of a closet, every inch of it is used to hold a handbag, organize shoes, or offer some kind of chic piece of clothing. "Are you gonna stand there all day or are you actually gonna make yourself useful?"

     Quite possibly, Isabella scared me a tiny bit more than Elijah. At least with Elijah, I found the ability to speak, but in Isabella's presence, my tongue was dry and my lips were unable to move. This woman's hatred for me, the reason still a mystery to me, was strong enough to make me believe that one wrong word would lead to her digging her manicured nails into my eyes. An annoyed glare from her brought a string of words to my lips the same way vomit would. "W-What can I do?"

     "Stand here so I can find something remotely attractive on you." Following her orders, I walk to her and stand there like a barbie doll, ready to be dressed in anything she finds fit. "Well, look at you following orders like a good dog."

     "Why do you hate me so much?" The words are blurted out before my brain can even catch up with them. I want to take them back, but my curiosity is too consuming to ignore.

     "Because Roman is cursed to have the worst taste in women and I don't think you, southern belle, will be an exception." Her fake southern accent makes my skin burn with anger, but her words fuel my words more. "I might not coddle my brother in the same way Scarlette does, but I care about him just as much." For once, she sounds affectionate. That's also probably why she's avoiding eye contact. She's just as surprised by her own affection as I am.

     "Why do you think I'm going to hurt him? Haven't you looked around? He's the one keeping me as a prisoner."

     "Of course you would see it that way." Grabbing a navy blue jumpsuit and a thick black belt, she hands them over. "One of my cheaper pieces just in case you don't know how to behave properly at a dinner table. Don't want you to stain one of my more expensive outfits."

     I can't control my anger when I yank the jumpsuit from her hands. "I'm not some animal, even though you guys act like I am."

     "I thought we treated you less like an animal and more like a child. In your world everything is rainbow and butterflies, but the reality is, people die, murder, steal, blackmail, manipulate, and it goes on and on. I'll admit, you have some shitty luck. Wrong place, wrong time. But either way, you're in this situation now and you're not making it easy on anyone, including yourself. So, why don't you suck it up and make the best out of it? Or, at the very least, stop behaving like a child. Make it easier on the rest of us."

     "Maybe if I knew the situation I was in, I could do a little better at reacting. How can I behave accordingly when I'm left in the dark, surrounded by people who know something I don't?"

     "Maybe if you proved yourself to be reasonable and calm, we would trust you enough with information. Until then, Roman will continue to protect you from the big bad wolf baring his teeth at you, while you throw a tantrum. Sound good?"

     "Sounds great." The comeback is not as good as I thought it would be, but the words are out and I'm not going to go back on them now. Isabella shakes her head, leaving me to dress myself while she waits in her room.

     Besides the conversation leaving a bad taste in my mouth, a burning sensation fills my stomach, threatening to throw up the contents from lunch. The idea of having dinner with a family full of secrets, half of which I think are capable of murder, and all of them completely content with holding someone against their will, makes me want to vomit. I'm praying to god this won't be as bad as I think it will be. 

How do you think dinner will go?

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