Pretty Little Things - Page 22/22

He pushed from the frame and began to saunter towards me. “You’re not wearing your necklace.”

“I had trouble with the clasp.” I tugged at the hem of the dress, trying desperately to hide some of my exposed flesh. I’d only ever dressed in skimpy clothes to get his attention. Now it just seemed silly.

Colin set his glass on the entry table inside of my room and grabbed the thin silver chain with matching cross from beside his glass. He swept my hair over my shoulders so it cascaded in large curls down my chest. “It’s a big day.” He was still smiling but I knew better than to read anything from that. He was nervous. He looped the chain around my neck, and I fumbled with the cross, my fingers sliding over the delicate carving across its face.

He positioned the clasp at the back of my neck before sliding my hair back, his fingertips brushing along the base of my neck and over my shoulder, causing me to shiver.

“You’re nervous.” He retrieved his glass and held it in front of my waist from behind me. “This will help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You need to relax.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take yours.” I smiled coyly. He pressed his lips to my cheek and held the glass up higher.

“Tonight is a celebration.”

My fingers wrapped around the glass, and I pushed all of the air from my lungs before tipping it to my lips and letting the harsh liquid burn a path down my throat.

“Good girl.” He took the tumbler back and walked over to my bed, grabbing my small clutch purse that matched my dress. His arm extended, and I took it from his hand.

“Where is Connor?”

He smirked as he looked me over. “Grace made him leave early so they would get a good parking spot at the church.”

“Is she expecting a big turn out?” I joked. “Family and friends, right?”

His palm pressed against the small of my back urging me forward. I reluctantly left the safety of my bedroom and carefully navigated the stairs to the first floor. Colin opened the front door, and I breathed in the humid summer air. His car was parked just below the porch, and he opened the passenger door for me. I slid in as gracefully as possible without exposing my undergarments. I watched Colin make his way around the car before sliding into the driver’s seat next to me.

“Is it far?” I asked, the alcohol sloshing in my stomach as we pulled away from the porch.

“No. It’s only a few miles out.” He turned up the volume to the radio, and I listened to the guitar’s sad, haunting melody as I stared out the window. The driveway stretched on forever, but once we cleared the large iron gate, we were out of civilization. I took a deep breath as I clutched my purse so tightly my knuckles turned white.

The two lane road was lined with trees and power lines. There were very few houses, but most looked shabby and small compared to Colin’s home.

We pulled off onto Summer Lane. The road was flanked by large ornate stone pillars. We pulled up next to several other equally expensive cars and I could feel Colin’s eyes on me when he put the car into park.

“Are you ready?” I looked out at the small gathering of people before looking back to him. “For a long time.” The butterflies took flight in my stomach.

He placed his hand on my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze before opening his door and circling the car to open mine for me as well. I took his hand as he helped me from the seat. I smoothed down the front of my dress and looped my arm through his.

An older gentleman in a sharp navy blue suit stopped us. He looked to be about twenty years older than Colin. “Congratulations. If you kids need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, Jim. I appreciate it.”

“That goes for you as well, Annabel.” I nodded.

As we made our way to the small church where I had spent so many Sundays with Colin, my nerves turned to excitement. His hand clutched mine as we made our way up the narrow aisle. Everyone turned in their seats to watch us as we approached the front. People stood along the walls, and there wasn’t an empty seat in the building.

I opened my purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper that I had spent the entire night writing all of my feelings down on. We turned to look at the group of people who had come to show us their support.

“We want to thank you all for coming here today." Colin's strong voice resonated through the sanctuary. "I know this isn’t conventional, but nothing about our lives has been to this point.” There was a small rumbling of laughter, and I smiled as I glanced up at Colin. “Today we get a chance to reclaim our lives and, literally, bury our past.” I glanced behind me at the mahogany casket that contained Taylor’s body. “With the death of Taylor, we can sleep soundly knowing the monster we feared is not lurking in the shadows. But I’ve come to realize he wasn’t really a monster at all. He was just a man. A sad, sick man who can no longer hurt anyone. He didn’t win. We get to rebuild our lives and come back stronger, and we will do it together.” Colin was grinning down at me as he mouthed I love you.

“I’m proud to announce that, with your blessing, we will be opening the Blakely Community. You all will have a safe place to rest your heads and the support system you need to move on with your lives.” I held my breath as I scanned the faces of Taylor’s surviving victims. Slowly they began to clap and cheer as they rose to their feet. Colin wrapped his arms around me and lifted my feet from the ground.

Spending Taylor’s money on ourselves hadn’t seemed fair, when his cruelty had reached so many others. It would be a long road, and we would all have to pitch in to make it work, but it was a start.

I was young enough not to understand that my life was different, but not everyone else was as fortunate. We would protect each other. We would help each other shoulder the burden.

We were the lucky few who got a chance to start over. A real family, a new home, and a beautiful life built on strength and perseverance. While our lives were brought together as victims, we stayed together as survivors. It was only a matter of time before our tragedy became a story of hope.