Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
If I had my head screwed on properly, I’d be back at the pool house, keeping myself locked away and out of trouble. I know I can’t tell the difference between Cora and Casey but if one of them were to even look at me wrong today, I feel as though I might just break. After the whole suspension thing yesterday, a public scene like that might just throw my mom off the deep end.
As we walk through the church, I can’t help but look around. This place is huge. Like not just the Carrington mansion kind of huge, but shopping mall kind of huge. No wonder Harrison was so adamant that this would be the church the service was held in. It's all kinds of fancy with its high ceiling arches, candles, gold trims, and stained windows. It’s the kind of place a girl like me would literally have to die to get into. Even then, I'm not sure I’d be worthy.
This place screams elitist and makes me wonder how many times the little donation plate went around and how often the billionaires of Bellevue Springs have had to dip into their pockets. There’s no way a church like this would be able to survive on just prayers alone. There's a big financial backer here somewhere and for some reason, the name Carrington is flashing in my head.
There’s a woman at the front softly playing the harp and the music fills the church as the guests start pouring in. Milo leads me to a seat toward the back and near the rest of Charles’ staff who have been granted the time off to attend the funeral, though not all of them are here. There are still hundreds of people back at the mansion getting ready for the party this afternoon which is being held in Charles’ honor. To be honest, I doubt Colton even knows about the party, he’s been so distant these past few days.
Yesterday was the worst. It’s as though Colton has reverted to the old Colton, the one who existed when I first arrived. He was mean, blunt, and dangerous. He was someone who I didn’t want to fuck with, but did because watching him get so worked up was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. The old Colton liked to torment me, watch me break, and knew that he had the power to do it.
I sat at his bedroom door crying for two hours, unable to pull myself away. I was lucky that the only person to walk by and see my shame was Harrison who actually had the heart to give me a sympathetic smile. He must have been hit badly with Colton’s bullshit to have had a reaction like that. Either way, I was grateful.
It took me those two whole hours to work out that maybe he was hurting me just to feel something normal again. The past few days might have been a complete clusterfuck for me, but it’s also been that way for him and while his father was lying dead in his home office, he was upstairs in his bedroom, just moments from finally giving in to his desires. The guilt must be eating him alive and his way to deal with that, is to push me away but in doing that, he’s not just punishing himself, he’s punishing me.
We settle into the back pew and I gaze around the room, watching the people filtering past us. I catch Mom's eye a few rows ahead of us sitting with Maryne, and a smile passes between us.
Just as expected, everybody who is somebody comes striding through the door, not that I know any of them. Milo has a running commentary explaining the who’s who of Bellevue Springs. Women in black dresses, over the top hats, and big glasses march their way right to the front while men in ridiculously expensive suits accompany them and look as though they’d rather be anywhere else.
People watch me as they walk by and I don’t doubt that had Milo’s arm not been around my shoulder, a few of them would be in my face, demanding to know what kind of right I had to be there, and sitting beside a Rinaldi at that.
“Heads up,” Milo mutters in my ear. “The bitch twins are coming.”
I look toward the door to watch as Cora and Casey come walking into the church, not daring to speak to a single person. Their black glasses sit perfectly over their eyes and if I’d have to take a guess, I’d say it’s more of a fashion statement than to cover their tears.
They snub everyone who tries to say hello and I watch as they walk down the aisle, right to the front pew. “God, I hate them,” I murmur, doing my best to keep my voice low as I was perhaps a little too vocal about my distaste for the twins on the car ride here. Though luckily for me, it was only me and Milo.