Taking Meghan (Disciples 5) - Page 33

With each word she speaks, I feel myself inwardly withdrawing from her more and more. She doesn’t realize it, but her surety, her confidence, her damn belief, in what will play out is putting me on edge.

“So you’re not going to help me?” I ask, doing my best to keep my bottom lip from quivering. Doing my best to keep the damn tears out of my eyes as the full hopeless reality of my situation sinks its claws into my brain. “You think I should just accept what happened? I should just accept that I’m a fucking pawn that can be handed off to man after man?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Lily is quick to say in her defense. “I don’t think you should be a pawn. And I don’t think you need to accept others making decisions for you.”

“Then what are you saying?” I ask, honestly confused.

What is her point? What the hell is she getting at?

Lily’s eyes slide away for a moment before they slide back to me. “What I was trying to say,” she says softly. “Is that I’m glad you’re here, Meghan. I truly am.”

“Why are you glad I’m here?” I press, still not getting it.

Lily reaches out, gently taking my hands in hers and looks me directly in the eyes. “Because here is the safest place you can be.”

I resist the urge to jerk my hands back and scoff at her. The safest place I can be? Here? Seriously? I’m at the mercy of an organization, a family, that has no fondness or attachment to me. I don’t even have blood on my side. Yet again, I’m a fucking pawn, a bargaining chip, for someone to use as they please.

Noticing my look of disbelief, Lily gently squeezes my hands and it’s on the tip of my tongue to remind her how Alexei hurt me.

Then she says, looking deeply into my eyes once more as if she’s trying to get through to me, “Gabriel will protect you. He’s your best chance at staying alive.”

Her words fill me with a mixture of hot anger and cold terror.

Because she’s right.

But, “Only until he no longer has a use for me.”

Lily opens her mouth, no doubt ready to argue, but she’s cut off by an ear-splitting screech.

Two little girls come squealing and giggling into the kitchen, playing a game of tag or chase.

Dropping my hands, Lily’s lips pull down into a frown as she turns to the girls. “Evelyn and Abigail, what did I tell you girls about running and yelling in the house?”

The little blonde girl comes to such an abrupt stop that the little girl with dark curls that was chasing her stumbles into her back. They both squeak and nearly fall over, but quickly catch their balance.

The blonde checks on her friend, making sure she’s okay, before looking to Lily. “You told us not to, Mommy,” she says in the sweetest little voice.

Lily nods her head, switching effortlessly into full mommy mode.

She gives both the girls a stern look. “And what did I tell you the punishment would be if I caught you doing it again, Evelyn?”

Evelyn’s face falls and her bottom lips begins to jut out, but then her big eyes land on me.

Her entire face suddenly lights up, doing a complete one-eighty, and she squeals, “A princess!”

I blink at her in surprise, and I only have about five seconds to prepare myself before both girls come charging at me.

I don’t know why or how Evelyn came to her conclusion. It must be the dress I’m wearing, even though Gabriel has hacked most of the skirt away. Or maybe it’s the gloves and all the jewelry…

“I’m not a princess,” I say, taking a step back and holding my hands out as a shield in front of me.

The girls must not hear me because they both run up and wrap their arms around me. Pure happiness lights up their faces.

“I didn’t know you invited a princess over for dinner, Mommy!” Evelyn says excitedly.

Her friend, whom I’m assuming is Abigail, tips her head back and beams up at me as she hugs me tightly. “I’ve always wanted to meet a princess. Are you here to have tea?”

I shoot Lily a ‘help me’ look and try my best to gently pry the girls off me. Their little arms are like bands of steel though. For being so small, they are quite strong.

“I’m not a princess,” I helplessly repeat.

“Evelyn, Abigail, release Meghan at once,” Lily says firmly.

She has to say it three more times, her voice growing louder and louder over their happy squeals of “Princess Meghan,” before they finally decide to obey.

Reluctantly both girls release their grip, lips jutting out and arms falling to their sides.

“That is not how we treat our guests, girls. Tell your brother Adam you are to do twenty minutes of numbers with him,” Lily says to Evelyn, her voice stern and leaving no room for argument.

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