RUINED ALREADY [18+]

Seventeen

♦ Penelope ♦

I stabbed him. He could have died on my floor. After the ambulance had left with Emilio that night I'd thought about the repercussions. I still thought he deserved it. I just thought the next time we met he would kill me or his scary friend would.
Now he just happened to show up where I work and invited me over the night I had no school. How convenient. He was a stalker. All those weeks in hospital he was supposed to be nursing his wounds but he was busy chasing me offering me kisses? Did I want them? Yes? Did I want him to touch me like he should have? Hell yes!

I was an idiot and I knew it. But maybe some part if me ached to see the good in someone, particularly a man of his calibre. I never recalled a time when I'd ever dressed up for a man. I never got the chance to. But now as I stared at myself in the mirror I didn't feel that flutter woman claimed they got with the need to please their man. Instead I wondered if I was dressing for my own funeral. Pretty in white only to be buried in some shallow grave that Emilio had dug out somewhere.

I didn't know what the hell I'd been thinking coming here. As if the unexpected downpour of rain wasn't a bad omen telling me to flea. By the time I crossed into the lobby I was partially damp and shaking.

The receptionist looked at me funnily.
"I'm here to see Emilio. My name is Penelope."
Her smile was cunning. She probably thought I was his whore. I had no illusion about him. I was pretty sure he had women eating out of his hand and eating other places, too.

"Go on right up, Penelope. He's expecting you."
I took the directions she gave me all the while my heart erupted in a frenzy. A battlefield was in commission in my chest.

Oh God, what if he kills me? He's an arms dealer, Pen. He gas guns everywhere!

The ping of the elevator sounded like the promise of wickedness. I exited and took my time until I stood outside his door. My palms grew sweaty and my toes curled in my heels.

The door suddenly eased open and Emilio stated down at me.
"Were you planning on staying out here all night, Quierda?"
He stepped aside and I lingered before walking in. Just the way I remembered. All glass and steel and flowing curtains, except this time they were the color of red. Maybe he was providing hints of what I should expect. Relax, I thought, just relax.

"I'm glad you came here," he murmured against my nape. "Gently he turned me to face him. "Are you afraid, Penelope?" He smiled, an actual real one. "You shouldn't; at least not now."

He took my hand and led me to another room. I gasped st the sight before me. Candles were burning bright on a table decked out with food and he released my hand to clap and the sound of music echoed through the house. Soulful Opera music that was poignant. I loved it. The scent of roses was subtle but I could still smell it.

"What's this?"
He smiled again. "It's dinner Penelope. Joyce's, my house keeper, advise."
"Oh. I thought you'd just take credit for it," I murmured.

I brushed a spot on my dress and his burning eyes followed my fingers.

"You look virginal tonight, Quierda. Did you where this color intentionally? To make my mind go dirty?"
His smile turned wicked.
"No. I wore it because I liked it. And white is a tint, not a color."

"You have a smart mouth."
"Thanks for the compliment. I just don't think I should lead you to believe I somehow want to seduce you."