The Marriage Contract (25 page)

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Authors: Tara Ahmed

BOOK: The Marriage Contract
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              Anger flushed through me as I clicked on that Richard had lied about James telling him to take me for breakfast.

              I hated being lied to.

              As I tilted my chin, I prepared to announce then and there, that I had been sexually harassed by Richard. I would call the police, and have him arrested for assault as well!

              But when James turned his eyes to his brother, smiling warmly at him, my heart sank. Though I knew they weren’t close, I could tell from the light in his eyes, that he deeply trusted Richard. Who was I to break that trust? I was just a fake wife that he’d kick out of his life after the year was over. But Richard was his brother, and probably the only family he felt he could confide in. If I broke the news to James that his brother was trying to destroy his marriage, even if it was fake, then he’d probably hate Richard forever.

              I had never been so confused in my life.

A hot shiver shot down my neck, as James stood from his seat, walking towards me. Richard’s eyes hardened, as James walked behind me, wrapping his arms over my back.

              His strong arms were warm against me, like a blanket I never wanted to remove, but the way Richard looked at me, with an angry passion lurking in his eyes, I felt that blanket begin to slip off.

              I stood rigid, as James’s face pressed against my cheek, his head resting over my shoulder.

              “She’s a weird one, isn’t she Richie?” He spoke lightly, squeezing his arms over me.

              Richard simply nodded, smiling politely.

              “I’ll be leaving soon,” said Richard. “I just came to return something.”

              James’s arms released over me, as he pulled away, standing beside me. I glanced at him, wanting to read his eyes, but his expression gave nothing away. He simply looked surprised.

              “Return what?” he asked.

              The silence in the room grew cold, as James stepped to the side, creating a distance between us. His eyes were suddenly guarded, as his jaw began to tick, indicating his impatience.

              “My purse.” I broke the silence, staring at my shoes, and then at James, who looked even more confused.

              “What?” they both said in unison.

              Richard cocked his head to the side, keeping his face blank.

              “Why would I return your purse?” he asked.

              “Yes,” said James. “Why would my brother return your purse? Were you with him?”

              This was it. I had to tell him the truth. I had to—

              “Of course she wasn’t with me,” Richard snapped. “Her purse is on the floor. She probably forgot to take it with her wherever she went this morning. Honestly. Could you imagine me spending even two seconds with her?”

              James’s gaze snapped to the other end of the living room, as we both gaped at my black purse that rested nonchalantly on the ground. I sighed, anger pulsing through me, as I realized that Richard had thrown my purse across the room when he got in, making it look as though I’d dropped it there before I left this morning.

              That sneaky rat.   

              “Whatever you say man,” said James. “For now, I need a fucking shower. Dorothy, can you see him out? Thanks.”

              Before I could object, James gave him a small wave, turned, and headed down the hallway. When his athletic frame disappeared into the bedroom, I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

              Richard had that predatory look in his eyes again, walking towards me as though I were his meal. I took a step back, staring fearfully at the hallway, afraid that James would come out. But a part of me wanted James to see, so then he could confront his disgusting brother, and kick him where it hurts.

              “Don’t come closer,” I warned, keeping my voice hushed.

              I waved a finger at him, as he took slow steps towards me, his eyes ignited with a fiery passion. His lips held no smile, but desire dripped off of him, radiating towards me. I walked backwards, hitting the cold door. Before I could escape, Richard placed both arms against my side, caging me in place.

              I breathed deeply, my chest heaving.

              “You’re horrible,” I whispered. “Get out of my way. You’re going to get killed when James finds out—“

              “You’re worried about me?” His voice dripped with hunger, as he dipped his head towards me.

              I lowered my gaze, feeling repulsed by his shamelessness.

              He chuckled, placing an index under my chin, lifting my head up to meet his dark brown gaze. I stared defiantly at him, my hands closing into fists by my side.

              “This is your fault,” he whispered. “You made me want you.”

              I glared at him, and he smiled.

              “I didn’t do anything,” I snapped, keeping my voice low. “You’re just a psychopath—“

              “Oh, those eyes, Dorothy,” he whispered. “Don’t look at me like that, with those pretty grey eyes. I warned you. I warned you long ago, but I’m afraid you forgot—“

              “What the hell are you talking about? Move out of my way—“

              He clicked his tongue.

              “Don’t look at me like that,” he repeated slowly. “I just might fall for you, and if I do, you’ll have nowhere to run. You’ll be mine…do you remember those words?”

              I gaped at him, not believing that he was being serious. My heart thundered in my chest, as he slid to the side, uncaging me. I stared wide eyed at him, not knowing what to say, as he opened the door, and without another word, exited out.

              The door clicked closed, as I stared at it, replaying his words in my mind like a song on repeat.

 

             

 

                           

             

 

 

 

             

 

                           

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

              The squeak of my red sharpie dragged across the small square box of the calendar against the wall, as I sighed, not sure whether I was excited or nervous. Under tomorrows date, written in messy cursive, read, “Carnival”. The same carnival that James had adamantly refused going to. I stared at the date, my heart sinking at the thought of not going back home to my small town, spending the lazy nights listening to my grandmother’s stories. 

              My bare toes wiggled against the wooden floor, as I turned, leaning against the white wall- glancing to the side at James. His un-brushed brown locks stuck out in all sides- long legs spread out over the black leather couch, a bag of potato chips resting in his lap. Crumbs dusted like snowfall on the lion road kill carpet, as the blaring sounds of the Discovery Channel played from the wide, flat screen T.V. plastered against the wall.

              He was immersed to the screen, his golden brown eyes locked on the tigers running towards their prey. As the tigers cornered the lone giraffe, I stalked my way towards the T.V., annoyed that he was too focused on the show to notice me crouch down on the ground, wrapping my hand over the plug.

              His gaze widened, and just as he stood, his mouth agape, I pulled the magic plug.

              “What the hell,” he shouted. “You know I waited a week for that to air!”

              I stood, my hands placed on my hips- glaring at him.

              “You also didn’t vacuum your mess for the past three days,” I snapped.

              I gestured my hand towards the couch and carpet, sighing exhaustedly.

              “Look at this mess! You’ve let everything in your side of the house become a garbage pile for the past month. Honestly, how can you live like this? I helped you clean last week, but you just start over and make the same exact mess again! You’re supposed to clean any mess you make, but instead you just let everything pile up—“

              “You’re over reacting,” he said. “This isn’t a big deal. And if you hate it so much, then why don’t you do the cleaning, and I’ll do the…relaxing.”

              I scoffed. “You can’t be serious. This is part of our rules, or did you forget?—“

              “Oh, I remember perfectly,” he replied, smiling wickedly. “But I think you’re the one that forgot.” 

              My neck flashed hot and cold- my eyes bulging. He smirked at my discomfort, running a hand through his messy hair, and taking a few steps towards me. I turned my head, my ears beginning to burn, as he placed a hand under my chin, lifting my head to meet his eyes.

              “You’re going tomato red, Princess,” he whispered, staring down at me. “Are you perhaps, remembering that kiss you gave me about a month ago?—“

              I stepped back, staring at the ground, then back at him, feeling my heart race.

              “That was a mistake,” I said. “It…it means nothing, so just, I don’t know…just pretend it never happened, alright?”

              His eyes were still smiling, as he tilted his head.

              “Oh, but it did happen,” he continued. “I still remember…you were all over me—“

              “Knock it off!” I turned, walking to the end of the room, towards the stairs.

              He followed, amused by my embarrassment, as I walked up the cream carpeted staircase, towards the second floor.

              His deep voice danced along the walls, as he followed me up the stairs, trailing behind me.

“Don’t you remember Dory? You were all, ‘James I’m so in love with you—“

“I never said that!” I snapped. “That’s only in your perverted imagination—“

“Then you tried to stick your tongue in,” he continued, ignoring my objection. “Geez, did you eat garlic that day or something?—“

I jogged up the stairs- my eyes pinned on the library at the corner of the second floor.

“I swear, I’m warning you,” I said. “If you don’t stop mocking me, I’ll—“

His arms circled over my waist, as he turned me around- my body falling against his strong chest. My pulses ran like a river wild, as he threw me over his shoulder- his arm secure around my legs. I had gained a good five pounds in the last month, so I wasn’t exactly feather light, yet he ran through the extensive hallway of the second floor, as though I weighed nothing.

              I was mistaken. I weighed a ton, for he groaned, his knees shaking as he turned the corner towards the open door of the library.

              “Did you eat a fridge for breakfast?” he accused. “I can’t feel my arms!”

              I scowled at the ground, giving the back of his hair, a slight pull.

              “I might be fat, but at least I’m not an immature brat like you!” Though I was annoyed at him, I could feel my lips upturn into a small smile, a part of me hoping he wouldn’t put me down.

              “What did you just call me?” he demanded, giving my butt a light tap.

              I gasped, my eyes widening in shock.

              “You just spanked me!” I accused. “That’s sexual harassment.”

              I could almost feel his mischievous smile, as his finger traced an outline over my ankles, causing me to giggle. The afternoon light from the hallway streamed through, casting an orange glow over his neck.

              “It’s not harassment, if you enjoy it,” he argued. “Besides, you haven’t once asked me to put you down. Isn’t that interesting?”

              I opened my mouth to give a good retort, but closed it upon realizing that I had nothing to say. My lips zipped closed, as he walked inside the small office library, placing me on a brown revolving chair at the corner of the room. Four Shelves stacked with novels, encyclopedias, and texts, rested in a neat line on the four walls of the room. On the ceiling, was a round, crystal chandelier, tinkling against each other as the wind from the open window gusted by.

              I stared up at James, giving him a small smile as an answer to his question, and to my surprise, he flushed pink. His cheeks stained a light scarlet, as he cleared his throat, walking towards the book shelf.

              “You know, it’s funny,” I said, breaking the awkward tension.

              “What is?” He traced his long, elegant fingers against the third row of books, before stopping on a novel. He tapped it once, as though deciding it was the one, and squeezed it out of its place in the shelf. The coverless brown novel rested in his hands, as he turned around, shooting me an expectant stare.

              I straightened my back on the seat, picking my legs up and scooting them under my thighs. My yellow t-shirt was loose against my chest, revealing zero curves- my cotton blue pants dancing by my ankles.

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