Body of Scars

The odd vibration of the phone alarm trembles in my hand, snapping me from the gaze I was caught in. It is time to go, now that twenty minutes had been spent uselessly waiting in this gloomy car. Glancing down at myself I recognize the shimmering black slip which serves as an evening gown. It gapes at my cleavage area and features a split which discloses most of my upper thigh.

Flipping the mirror of my revisor down I smudge thick clumps of Lucas Paw Paw across my full lips and brush my hair through with long fingers. I open the car door to be greeted with harsh winds that lick and prey on my revealing skin. Turning toward the car I sight a stunning woman with long brown hair, smoky eye make-up, sculptured breasts, dazzling metallic nail polish and a twinkling black dress. I smile seductively at my reflection in the car window, watching as my glossed lips roughly draw upward and my eyebrows rise to arch exquisitely on my forehead.

Pouting my lips for good measure I turn to face the magnificent mansion owned by the Johnson’s. Furrowing my neatly trimmed brows I remember that the family is centre to one of the largest drug dealing, human trafficking, money smuggling Mafia’s in the United States. I feel the ball of anxiety in my stomach tense and the rhythm of my heartbeat quicken dramatically. This was what was going on beneath the exterior, though no one would ever know by looking at me. Shrugging on the delicate facade of a classy woman invited to a classy party I walk briskly to the trunk of my car, opening it to reveal unbelievably thick heels and a sleek handgun which I strap to the band bound to my upper thigh, the thigh not visible though the sexy slit of the dress.

Climbing the gentle slope which leads to the impressive doors of the mansion I arrange and rearrange my hair, the messy coils of brown hair tumbling to my waist in a tousled fashion no matter how much I brush it through.

Stepping onto the grand steps of the doorway I am greeted by a doorman who shows me to the hall and opens another set of large doors which lead to the a high ceilinged room filled with noises and smells and people so beautiful they seemed to shine. Huge pillars support the roof and I try not to gape at the Romeo and Juliet style balconies which are featured every few meters, lining the walls like picture frames.

Walking through the crowd of chatting people I notice the rich jewels which hang from every woman’s throat or ears and how every man sports a modern suit and thick golden band around their marriage finger. I had been right about the guest list being filled with wealthy couples.

Walking to a table center of the room I reach for a tall glass of sparkling liquid, though before my fingers reach the glass I see the large, rough hands of a man who grasps the glass and pulls it from the table. Turning, I spot a tall man parading thick cords of muscle on his arms, a brawny chest and dark tan. His face is handsome, flaunting a broad nose, chiseled jaw line and emerald colored eyes.

“Was this yours?” he questions gently and I smile genuinely, his voice is rough though it is rich with something else. What was it? “No, its okay, you have it” I reply and watch as conflicted emotions battle to win his choice of expression. “Well then you should have gotten it first love” he speaks loudly and rudely and I glance quickly to see a few heads turning to see the commotion. He is inches from my face and his teeth are gritted. “I don’t like people who try to steal from me” He raises his voice even more and I move backward, clumsily bumping into another body which catches me. “Im sorry, I-” I begin but he cuts me off, “Shut up” he growls and with that he turns and stalks through the crowd, shouldering almost every person to make his way to the closest balcony.

The few people who had witnessed the scene look after him though I forget about him.“Are you okay? Some people are such idiots” I hear and turn to face the man who had caught me. He had closely cropped golden hair and intelligent green eyes which pierced through me with an intense concern and a little amusement. “Yeah I just- I think he was just an angry person” I say and I earn a smile, revealing flashy teeth. “I’m Thomas by the way, I’m the son of Rose and Daniel Johnson” he introduces, his hand stretched out to shake mine. “Charlotte Hart” I reply, shaking his hand and feeling the warmth of his hand on mine.