Paper Dolls

|chapter two|

a/n: this ones a little longer than the last. Almost 6k words...we are moving around and setting things up to get to the good stuff. ;)

At dinner, Bridget can't stop thinking about James. 

Her cheek still burns from the kiss. She's so sure that everyone can see it, like a brand. Never in her life has any man been that forward with her. Most are too scared of her father to even ask her out. 

Bridget's been on a few dates, mainly guys her parents have set her up with. They are always the same; Irish, Catholic, living at home with their mothers and wanting a wife to raise ten kids with. Bridget would rather jump into the Hudson. 

"A leanbh, what is on your mind? You've barely touched your plate?" her mother asks, green eyes big with worry. Bridget's baby brother throws his fork on the floor and shrieks. 

"Bridget's got a boyfrieeeennndd," her little brother Colin sings. He's ten and built like a baby giraffe, all arms and legs. 

"What're you talkin' about?" Bridget asks incredulously as she pushes her potatoes around on her plate. 

"I'm talkin' about what Officer Walker told Da when he dropped you off. Heard it through the window." 

Bridget gives him a look that could melt steel. Her mother looks at her husband, who is focused on his plate. 

"Ryan, what's going on?" 

He sighs, putting down his fork. 

"Today, at the station one of the boys in holding got a little handsy with Bridget." 

Her mother gasps. 

"Bridget Maureen, are you alright?! You're not hurt, are you?" 

"Ma, I'm fine. He gave me a peck on the cheek for bein' kind to him, that's all." 

She sees her father clench his jaw. He hates the idea of anyone getting their hands on his only daughter. 

"Boys these days don't know any manners," her mother says. "When I was your age, your da would barely even hold my hand." 

"It's not a big deal. Lots of girls my age have boyfriends. I already told you, its different now." 

Ryan gives Bridget a glare. 

"Watch how you speak to your mother. She's right. Boys now don't have any respect for good girls. They're always down at those clubs, smoking and drinking." 

Bridget looks down at her plate, biting her lip. James didn't seem like a bad guy. Men get in fights all the time, her father included. Her mouth opens before she can stop it. 

"Well, Wanda goes down to those clubs and she's fine." 

"Wanda is an orphan. She doesn't have anyone to look out for her. We want you to be safe," her mother says placing her hand on Bridget's. 

"I am safe. Safely stuck here, every day and every night. At least someone was brave enough to even touch me without fear of getting their hands cut off or-" 

Her father slams his hands on the table, making them all jump except Bridget. One of the twins starts to cry. 

"ENOUGH. You will not be seeing just any boy or going to any club, I don't care what you say."

Bridget stands up, tossing her napkin on her plate. 

"I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to bed. Good night, boys." 

She kisses her mom on the cheek, walking up the stairs quietly. She wants to stomp and scream, but she knows that will just affirm her father's thinking that she's still a little girl.