Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1) - Page 82

“Of course,” I told her. She smiled and then turned over to close her eyes.

One moment they were in abject terror and the next, they were closing their eyes and hoping for a candy-cotton dream world.

Where were they drifting to? I wondered. We weren’t all so unlike, despite the difference in wealth. However, there was no denying that this was a more serious case of neglect than any I could ascribe to myself. It made me think I should stop wallowing in my own self-pity.

Del sat at the kitchen table, his body slumping in defeat.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up,” he said. “They’ve been coming around threatening to take Shawn and Patty Girl away. Maybe they would be better off. Maybe I should stop pushing string uphill, huh?”

“No, they need you,” I told him.

He looked up at me, and then his face softened.

“Hey, thanks for all you did. You’re tougher than I thought you were.”

“What did you think I was?”

“A poor little rich girl being tortured with expensive clothes and private schools, forced to go on expensive vacations with her parents,” he recited.

“You’re exactly right, especially the tortured part.”

He laughed and looked at the bags of groceries.

“You bought all this?”

“Yes, and I’m still hungry. Help me make dinner,” I ordered. He saluted and we began. Somehow, despite the scene of horror we had just gone through, we had fun doing it, and I couldn’t remember enjoying a meal more.

Afterward, he helped me clean up and then we sat in his living room and talked. He told me about his father and how he became so disgusted with his mother that he just upped and left them one day.

“I was only twelve when he did it the first time, but I remember thinking he was weak. He moaned and groaned about how she was killing him and how he couldn’t stand it anymore. This last time, there was no doubt in my mind he wasn’t coming back. ‘Maybe after I leave and really stay away, she will see how serious it all has become and then she will straighten out,’ he told me. He knew she wouldn’t, but he didn’t care. I hope he’s just as unhappy wherever he is, and I hope it’s hell.”

What could I say? Could I tell him I often felt as alone? Looking around his home and seeing what he had to contend with, I couldn’t imagine him understanding how someone who lived in what was practically a palace and had maids and servants and beautiful things could ever be discontented. In fact, suddenly, despite the warm time we had spent with each other, he glared at me angrily.

“So now you see how the other half lives,” he muttered. “You can go home and be thankful.”

“For your information, Del Grant, my life is not a bowl of cherries. My parents never wanted me and, despite themselves, can’t keep it a secret. My mother and I have little in common, and my father favors my brother and treats me like a stepchild. I practically have to make an appointment to see him. The only thing that gets his attention is my getting into trouble.”

“Is that why you do it?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’m just bored,” I said.

He smiled.

“Okay. I’ll pretend you’re just as unlucky as I am,” he said.

We stared at each other, and then we both broke into a laugh and he leaned over right in the middle of mine and planted a soft kiss on my lips. It took me completely by surprise, and I stopped laughing. His eyes were so close to mine, I thought we could look into each other’s very souls. We kissed again, this time with his arms around my waist. It was a long, demanding kiss that seemed to reach into the center of my heart. A warm glow curled around me. When he lifted his lips, I brought mine back to them. After we parted, he stood up without speaking and took my hand so I would stand up.

We walked slowly to his bedroom. He didn’t put on any lights. At the side of his bed, we kissed again and he began to undress me. I stood there like a princess who was dressed and undressed every day by her servant. I was totally nude before he undid a single button of his own. He lowered me to his bed and we lay side by side, kissing softly, his hands exploring my body, making it come alive and tingle until I thought I would go mad with my wet desire.

“Last chance to escape,” he whispered.

“My last chance was out there in the living room,” I told him, and he laughed and undressed.

Was it reckless to make love like that, to not think of any consequences?

Yes, but I wanted to be reckless. I think that not only surprised him, but frightened him a bit as well.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re not thinking about tomorrow.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Broken Wings Horror
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