Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (5 page)

“You’re the one who forced me to marry her. I’m surprised you didn’t give her a gynecological exam yourself before the wedding.”
A loud pounding sounds through the door and I jump. Whitt doesn’t even flinch.

Fisted the desk,
he mouths. Must be it’s a usual occurrence around here.

“Don’t be a self-righteous prick, Gran
t. I’ve prepared something that doesn’t involve you divorcing Cora. Your sister is taking care of it. Be prepared to do whatever I say,” the deep voice of the eldest Daniel Whittenhower commands.

“What does Kate have to do wit
h this?”

“Who said it was Katherine?” I can feel the air of smugness flowing from the room beneath the closed door.

I pull the boy from the door and move away down the hall. It sounded like the discussion was over and I didn’t want to be caught. Poor Cora- Poor Grant. Ade’s dad sounds like the self-righteous prick, not Grant. And what the hell is Ade going to do to help this situation? It has to be Ade- Grant only has two sisters.

“My father doesn’t think I
’m normal. I’m a disappointment,” a small voice says near my hip. I had forgotten the child as my mind processed everything I overheard. The light in his blue eyes fades and he worries his tiny bottom lip as he too remembers what his father said of him. I kneel down and draw the child into a hug. He burrows against me and I sigh. Who could be mean to this little boy?

“You’re only five-years-old. You haven’t have time to be a disappointment to a
nyone. And who is to say what’s normal. Your father didn’t sound normal at all.” I say to reassure the child. I draw my fingertips through is baby-fine hair to soothe him. His hair’s texture reminds me of the downy feathers of a duckling; the same color too.

“There you are. Whitt quit pestering my guest- scat!”
Ade’s voice is sharp and piercing like she is scolding a misbehaving pet. She points in a direction away from us.

The boy
doesn’t say a word and then runs down the hall, zigzagging around expensive obstacles in his path. I feel bad for him that he has to live in this house and I’m angry at Ade for being such a bitch.

“That wasn’t very nice. I’d love to have a baby brother and it’s never going to happen. You need to appreciate him.” I scold her.
I have to bite my lip so that I don’t add anything else I really want to say to her.
“I’ve got two. Do you want one of them?” She says jokingly, but it rings with truth.

She starts to head in the same direction as Whitt. I follow her because I have nowhere else to go. We enter a huge d
ining room. The table is so long that only one end has table settings. A woman in her late forties is seated in one of the two chairs that occupy the end of the table. I assume that she’s Ade’s mom. Another woman is seated next to her right. They both look to us expectantly.

“Mom, Cora,” Adelaide says to her mother and sister-in-law. “This is my friend Regina.” She slumps into the seat a
cross from Cora.

I walk over
and offer my hand to her mother. “Mrs. Whittenhower, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pricilla, please,” she says as she shakes my hand lightly. I repeat her
name and she smiles at me. She’s nothing as I expected. Whitt’s sunshine comes from this woman.

I repeat the Mrs. Whittenhower and present my hand to Cora. She takes it gingerly and barely moves her hand. She also doesn’t offer
for me to call her Cora. Her face holds a pinched expression as she releases my hand and wipes her fingers on her linen napkin. I can see why Ade’s father chose the woman- she’s perfect for the reserved nature of this family. I’m not sure how Pricilla and Whitt’s wild nature survives this environment.

I slide into the seat next to Ade just as the men join us. A handsome imposing man in his late fifties or early sixties comes in first.
His age doesn’t diminish his looks. He’s in his prime and it shows. If I was in a restaurant and he came in I’d know he was someone important just by how he carries himself. The air of power emanating from him is huge.  His eyes assess everyone in the room. I can feel the scrutiny and I cringe, not because it intimidates me, but because it pisses me off. Ade has that same look when she bosses people around and I hate it. She and her father look just alike and no doubt act alike too. I already know that this man and I will not get along.

When Mr. Whittenhower moves to sit in his seat I see Ade’s
brother Grant for the first time. My breath catches in my throat. He’s what Whitt will look like when he grows up. A tousle of sandy blond hair crowns a devastatingly handsome face. Piercing blue eyes stare at me in interest. Even the slope of his jaw and the curve of his neck are perfect. I can’t take my eyes from him.

I feel a gaze on my face and turn to see Mr. Whittenhower staring between Grant and me. A small smile plays around the edge of his lips. It’s a disturbing expression on the serious man.

Whitt shadows into the room and sits next to me. He wiggles into the high-backed chair with some difficulty. I notice no concessions are made for the child. He sits at the table as a grown-up. He pulls his napkin from the table and snaps it. I recoil in my seat at the sound. He politely lays the fabric on his lap and mouths
sorry.

“Who are you,” Mr. Whittenhower says rather rudely to me. I wait for Ade to introduce me or jump to my defense. It would be a lo
ng wait before either happens.

“My name is Regina Regal. I go to school with Adelaide. It’s nic
e to meet you, Mr. Whittenhower,” I say respectfully. I know he already knows how I am. He’s testing me just as Ade does with anyone she comes across. I see where she gets it from.

“You’re that scholarship student, aren’t you?” He asks with distain.

“Yes, Sir,” I say proudly. I earned my position. I didn’t have it handed to me or bought. He glares at me for a second and turns to speak to his wife as if I’m of little consequence to his dinner.

I feel eyes on me and look across the table at Ade’s brother. He smiles at me and receives an elbow to the ribs from Cora- excuse me, Mrs. Whittenhower. She doesn’t like me much.
He smiles wider at her reaction showcasing a devastating set of dimples. Whitt must have inherited his dimples from Grant.

“Hello, Regina. It’s nice to meet you. Adelaide talks of you all the time.”
His voice is quiet and soothing. It makes me want to sigh.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Whittenhower.” I don’t mean for it to come out meekly
or sound so much like a question, but it does.

He smiles at me again
with his full, pink lips. I shake my head to break myself out of the spell he’s cast me under. I see Ade’s fascination with hero-worshipping her brother. I want to worship him in another sense. Or maybe I want him to worship me.

“You can-” he’
s elbowed again. I think he was offering to call him Grant. I guess not. I’m only on a first-name basis with Ade, her baby brother, and her mother. That’s not uncomfortable- not uncomfortable at all.

I sit politely through dinner that tastes like paste and vomit. I think they think that expensive means it tastes good. Evidently that isn’t the case.
The truffles shaved all over my plate cost more than what I was willing to whore myself out for and they taste like a dank basement- moldy. My mouth waters at the thought of a grilled-cheese sandwich or maybe it’s watering because I can barely keep the food down. I guzzle from my water-glass until it’s empty.

I look up to see Grant silently laughing at me. My ey
es flit around the table and I’m thankful that everyone else is engaged in the boring story Ade’s father is regaling us with. I smirk into my linen napkin.

“Will you read me a story, Queen?” Whitt asks from the seat next to me. I start to
say sure when Ade interrupts.

“No, Daniel. She is my friend, not yours. And you can read- read your own story. We have to study.” She practically hisses at the small boys and I
wince. I take his hand in mine under the table and vow to get away long enough to read him a short-story. He squeezes my hand and my eyes prickle with tears. Fucking assholes!

Dinner couldn’t end fast enough. I wish someone would have warned me it was
a two-hour affair. I’m exhausted and we haven’t even started to study yet.

I follow Ade up to her room. I feel bad that we left the dining room a mess. I see where the kids at Hillbrook get it from.

She has double-doors to her bedroom and she carelessly flings them open. I gasp in horror when I walk into her room. It’s three times the size of my apartment. It has every piece of furniture imaginable. It’s filled with gadgets, computers, stereos, and a huge television. I don’t gasp at the size or the contents- it’s the state it’s in. The room is in complete chaotic disarray. Clothes are thrown on the floor that probably cost more than I need to pay off all my debts. I’m disgusted by the disrespect and total lack of appreciation. She doesn’t deserve anything if this is how she treats her belongings.

I angrily sit
in a black, leather office chair at her large desk that should be in an office, not a sixteen-year-old girl’s bedroom. I pull my books from my bag and push all my anger down to my gullet. I start to study in spite of how furious I am. I don’t pay attention to her when she tries to talk to me. I don’t engage her in anyway. Eventually she shuts up and starts to study too. No way was I answering her question:
Why are you mad at me?
There aren’t enough hours in a day to answer that question.

A few hours later I slide from my seat
and shove my books into my bag. Ade is fast asleep, curled into a ball in the center of her king-sized princess bed, softly snoring. I decide now is the perfect time to read to Whitt if he’s still awake.

I creep down the hallway trying to guess which room is the boy’s.
I lose count of the amount of doors lining the hall. The spacing between each door isn’t the same. Some rooms are large and others are small. Maybe the small rooms are storage or guest quarters. The burgundy walls are embossed in gold. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were genuine gold. The carpet is highly padded to dampen the sound of footsteps. I make no sound at all as I ghost down the hallway at this late hour.

I spot a door
that has a brown teddy-bear plaque on it. I slowly turn the knob not wanting to disturb the child if he’s sleeping. I’d worry that I was walking into someone else’s room, but who else would have a bear on the entrance to their room? I’m shocked that hinges don’t squeak like mine do as I slowly crack the door. Whitt looks up at me and smiles. He’s sitting cross-legged on a queen-sized bed in a room that looks like it belongs to an adult not a five-year-old child. He has a pad in his lap and a pencil in his hand. I walk over and check it out.

“It’s you,” he says as he shows me a drawing of
a girl that looks like me that’s wearing a crown on her head. Even the hair is wild.

“I’m impressed, Whitt, really
impressed.” I can’t believe he’s only five and I can’t believe they treat him as they do. He’s a very special boy.

I locate a book at the end of his bed. I
’d bet it’s his favorite. I settle my back against the headboard and wait for him to crawl up to me and cuddle. I begin to read him a fairytale and I fall in love for the very first time. I know that this is what it feels like to want to protect someone. The tiny Daniel Whittenhower fills my heart and he becomes my little brother of sorts.
 

Chapter Four

I wander aimlessly down the hallway after falling asleep with Whitt cuddled in my lap. The doors appear ominous now and I swear the hall lengthens as I walk. I feel like I’m in a horror film as my earlier omen floods my system. My mind goes into fight-or-flight mode.

I have no idea what time it
is or how I’m getting home. I know that Albert is asleep by now and I don’t know how to contact him. No busses run out here. I could call a taxi, but I have no money. I guess I should take one problem at a time. Problem one is finding my way outside before I worry about how I’m getting home. I’m a rat in a maze.

I see a
shadowy figure coming down the hall towards me and I get excited. The closer they come the sooner I will go home and never revisit this expensive house of torture again. The shape of a man forms before my eyes.

“What do we have here?” Grant slurs at me. He seems different and it raises flags in my mind.
His fingers wrap around a section of my hair and it scares me. His face is flushed red and his eyes are glassy and bright. I can smell the smoky scent of whiskey or scotch rolling off his tongue as he speaks and breathes heavily.

“I’m lost and I need a ride home.” My voice wavers as I speak and I hate it.
I fist my hands in the hem of my blazer.

“I’
ll get Albert for you, but first spend some time with me,” he slurs again sounding like his tongue is too large for his mouth. As if sensing my attention, the tip of his tongue sneaks out and slides along his supple bottom lip. He smiles as he tastes the alcohol that’s staining his mouth. His eyes are bright and shiny and glazed over. He has a smirk on his face that shows off his dimple. It no longer reminds me of Whitt. It seems sinister and dangerous- promising something I’m not ready to experience.