Fiendish Play (7 page)

I looked quickly in the mirror and squeezed my eyes shut. Every time I looked at my body, all I could see were the fingertips of a past I could never erase. Their awful touches that would forever make my skin crawl. The very images in my head made me empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl. Thankfully it was just the awful regurgitated taste of champagne. I knew I should have eaten earlier, but I couldn’t stomach a crumb knowing what I had to do tonight.
Fuck!
I would need to rinse my mouth again and make sure I reapplied my lipstick. That meant seeing myself in the mirror once more. Is it normal to hate your reflection so much?

I heard the room’s front door creak open. “
Here we go
,” I muttered to myself. I took another swig of the mouthwash. I couldn’t get enough. There was already a bad taste in my mouth. Too many disgusting memories painted on my lips and forced down my throat. “
Push it away Delia. They’ll never own your heart or your soul. It’s just your body. Flesh on bone. That’s all
.” I kept telling myself the same thing over and over in my head. It’s the only way I could get into the right frame of mind for the show.

“I’ll be right out,” I sang, using a completely different voice to my own. It was the whorish, sweet girl voice men just loved to imagine goes with this pathetic lingerie fantasy. I looked down at the minty fluid sitting at the bottom of the hand basin. Maybe I should take one more gulp? Or keep chugging until I was dreadfully sick. I mean how much mouthwash would it take to kill myself? That would have to be better than this. I made a mental note to research mouthwash related deaths later on.

“We’ll be outside in the hall.” I recognized our security men’s voices as the front door shut. I had heard them many times before. He was here, which meant I had to put my best foot forward. I readjusted my breasts that wanted to spill over the top edges of the corset and took a deep breath. “
Let’s get this over and done with
,” I told myself, trying to make it seem like it was just another night. I didn’t want think about the new emotional scar I was adding to my body. God — how many scars does it take before they break you? Apparently...for me...a lot. I hadn’t let them ever break me. It was a long-standing fight I had with the Lappell and their control. It was the only way I could go on every day. The only way I could remain functional. I kept the fight within myself. I could feel like I was winning by never allowing myself to cry or become a broken down mess. It’s what they ultimately hoped for. That way, there would be no resistance. But I would never give them that satisfaction. Not while I still had hate for them in my head, hope in my heart, and air in my lungs.

I walked out of the bathroom and saw a guy hunched over on the bed. His back was to me so I couldn’t see his face. I glided across to where he sat. My six inch heels tapping on the floor alerting him to my presence in the room. His back stiffened, sensing I was near. His head turned to face me. I stopped, shocked by the young handsome face opposite me. He was not what I expected. Not. At. All. “You’re young,” I blurted out without even thinking. Normally it was aging leaders and chapter presidents looking for a good time. I couldn’t believe my voice just popped out like that. My self-control leaving my body from the shock of his pretty boy face.

“What?” he said, his eyes roaming my body before he averted them to the corner of the ceiling.

“I’m sorry. You’re just a lot younger than what I expected. Not like...”

“I’m twenty five. I hardly call that childlike,” he said, still not making eye contact.

“I didn’t mean you were...”

“Can you just go back to the bathroom please? I think it would be better if you just stayed in there. I’ll slip out quietly in an hour or so. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure they know we sealed the deal.” He sounded forlorn, like this was the worst kind of situation he was in. He finally allowed his eyes to fall into my line of view. He looked me up and down one more time before turning his body back around so he faced the door and then placed his head in his palms.

I was taken aback, sure. I had never seen this reaction before. This was instant rejection and what looked to be some form of regret. It could have also been hesitation and some kind of fear as well. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. I couldn’t draw an accurate conclusion. I mean, even if he appeared remorseful or truly questioning what he was supposed to do, I wasn’t convinced his emotions were real. This had to be some sort of set-up against me. In this world, you can’t trust anyone or anything, especially when they act the opposite of what you’ve come to expect.

“I don’t understand. Is this a test?” I asked with caution, now moving towards him to show that I was more than ready to comply with my duties.

He stood now, turning towards me, shaking his head. He was tall, with dark brown hair; the slight growth of side burns on his face actually suited him. A strong jaw, dark earthy-brown eyes which looked woeful and kind. He wore a plain white Tee and dark distressed blue jeans. I noticed he didn’t dress like the others. No designer suits which screamed elitist snobbery. No. He looked like
James Dean
in his get-up. Like he had worn what he did because he was naturally rebellious or proving a point.

My eyes then shifted to his hands. They were very big and broad and they were scratched up, covered in calluses and blisters. I continued to stare at how large they were and wondered why they looked like they did. He cleared his voice harshly as he moved his hands out of view and behind his back when he realized I was staring at them.

“No, this is
not
a test, I assure you. Now please,” he took a step towards me but stopped, keeping his distance, “go back to the bathroom.”

I stood frozen. Shocked. Perplexed. I didn’t understand what was going on. Why was he here if not to get his entitlement? His turn for fun? To get a high from all the power? There had to be another reason for this...this bizarre behavior.

“Am I not to your...uh...tastes?” I managed to get out without trying to sound offensive. It was the only conclusion I could draw in my head. I had never been turned away before. He must have preferred the company of men.

“Huh...?” He looked at me trying to understand what I meant. Then it looked like a light bulb went off in his head. “Oh...ummm. No. No. I like women. And it’s not that you’re not pretty because you’re stunning. Really...really, very beautiful. But I can’t...I’m sorry.”

“Can’t get it up?” I said bluntly. Conclusion number two. It had to be medical...or perhaps it was a size thing. Some sort of insecurity happening downstairs in the pants’ department. I was already getting tired of the mind games he was playing. Best to just get the issue out into the open so I knew what I had to work with.

“Wow — you’re...really different aren’t you? No, that...errr...works fine as well...believe me...”

“Then why...?”

He threw his arms up into the air in what appeared to be despair. “Because it’s wrong, alright? It’s wrong. This whole set-up...what we’re supposed to do...what you’re supposed to do. It’s just so fucking wrong.” He moved back away from me again and went and sat on the bed, his face now back in his palms. “This isn’t me. It’s not who I am. It never will be. And I can’t run and leave this life even if I want to. I can’t abandon my family who are part of this too.”

He lifted his head up, now looking scared. “Please don’t say anything. Just go back to the bathroom okay. I won’t touch you. I won’t make you do anything. Just please, leave me alone.”

I let the silence linger in the air for a while before I made my next decision. I guess I could relate to his position having both my brothers forced into this world too. I saw firsthand what it could do to someone whose soul is never meant to be blackened. My older brother sought out a life of exile to prevent himself from doing things he didn’t want to do. He pulled away from me and my little brother. He barely spoke to us...and when he did, he didn’t trust us. He didn’t trust anyone linked to the Lappell...even his own flesh and blood. It had changed him to a cold-hearted hermit.

And then there was my younger brother. He dealt with them as best he could. He attended meetings. He worked for their companies. He kept a low profile. But I knew even he had become the shell of the boy I knew growing up. This life has a way of taking the very best parts out of your mind and body and cast them into the shadows. Lost, and can’t be found.

So what I did next just felt like the right thing to do. All my natural instincts forced the next words out of my mouth. Call it rebellion...call it lunacy...call it a gut feeling. It just felt right.

“My name’s Delia Weston,” I said. This time my real voice emerged and not the fake sweet one. His head lifted very slowly from his palms, knowing I had revealed information I wasn’t supposed to. I was still uncertain what made me so quickly want to divert from rules that could easily hurt me if broken. But who was I kidding? I may come across as cold and obedient, but I was always looking for a way to go against their so-called
rules
. No one should be able to tell me what to do and how to do it. Nobody.

“I’m...I’m Liam...Aston,” he whispered, keeping his voice low, knowing the guards were somewhere outside the room.

Then I realized something. His name sounded familiar. Part of my elite role in administration was gathering files of our members who had elite potential. I knew who was being groomed for more important roles and being considered for power positions in various countries with the most influence and leverage for the Lappell.
Aston...Aston...Aston. Cloverley University. Above average IQ. Brother Gerard. Loves to row. Doctorate in Arts.

“You’re the sculptor,” I said, like his file was in my hands. I knew it. I remembered his profile. It was one of the few files that didn’t fit the mold of what we usually searched for in powerful leadership, but some of our head departments were very interested in what Liam could do.

He didn’t seem surprised that I knew that piece of information; rather it made him inwardly groan.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to lead. I just want to be left alone. But they don’t seem to understand. I don’t care that I’m a legacy and I should just accept and obey. I hate who they are...and what they do...and I don’t want any part of their plans.”

“Then why are you here? Only future leaders or already established chapter presidents get these types of...uhhh...privileges.”

“Because if I don’t accept, then my brother will be groomed for the position instead. He’ll be our state’s chapter president. He will be the one to change. And not for the better.” Liam closed his eyes and let his head roll backwards, like the weight of the world was tying him down. He straightened himself and opened his eyes again; looking at me once more with those alluring and hopeful brown eyes that now looked sadder than before.

“I just don’t think I can allow that to happen. It can’t be him. It has to be me.”

“Why’s that? Why not let him take the responsibility when you clearly want no part of it?”

He began rubbing one of his eyebrows. You could see the tension lines crinkled on his forehead. “Because his wife is pregnant. Pregnant. What if she has a son...or God forbid, a daughter? You know what happens to the women born into the families of this world.”

I looked down at my lingerie-clad body knowing exactly what happens. “Yes...” my voice cracked, “I do.”

“You see. I just don’t think I can let that happen. I keep thinking that if I don’t accept then maybe, just maybe...I can do something to...God...I don’t know...help my family and help people in the same position as me. And I can’t do that if I’m one of
them
on the inside. Presidents always go down that dark path. It always leads to that place inside the walls of conformity and hatred that I never want to become a part of. It breaks you down. The power, the greed, the secrets. It’s just walls and walls of pain you’ll eventually be trapped in. And the only door out is one you’ll have to sell your soul for. God...almighty...fuck! It’s everything I never want to be. I’m not sure I can sacrifice myself for the sake of a chance that I will be different. I trust who I am, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do what I need to do against their type of influence.”

The way he spoke made me think I was speaking to myself. But I still needed to know why he was revealing himself so openly. I needed to feel like I could maybe...I don’t know...trust him. Because the strange thing was, I believed him, and I secretly wanted to hear more.

“Why are you telling me all of this? You know I’m elite right? I’m supposed to tell them your secrets. I’m supposed to give them information they don’t already know. And I know you would already know this. You would be aware of consequences. So why share all this detail with a stranger like me, knowing I could walk out to the guards right now and expose you?”

“Maybe it’s because I want to be found out. I want this all to end. I want to finally be free, and death is my only answer. So I don’t care. Tell them all of my doubts, hesitation and beliefs. Tell them that I wish I knew a way to bring them down. Tell them if I had a chance to expose them, I would. If I can’t be a true artist and express my real dreams and desires, then I’m nothing anyway. I will never allow myself to be my own version of a prison. And as much as I want to step up and keep my brother out of the spotlight, I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to tackle all this. It’s like playing with a nuclear bomb. I’m no hero...I’m just a guy who knows the difference between right and wrong...and these people...this group...are the worst kind of wrong.”

I could only watch on. I had had the same exact thoughts. The same beliefs and feeling of entrapment and despair. There was poetry in his darkness and in the way he openly vented himself. He was a true artist. An artist to the end, because that was what he was doing. Telling me all this so I could give his life away. He would know that any other elite woman would throw him to the wolves. But when I looked at him, holy fuck, I wanted so badly for him to fight. Fight alongside with me.