Shoving on some light skinny jeans and a Ramones shirt, I flick my hair down my back, toss on my leather jacket, and head upstairs to find Brantley.
He’s waiting for me in the lobby, wearing a hoodie, dark jeans and a shit-eating grin.
“Why are you smiling like that and why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like the reason?”
He chuckles. “Come on. You need to get ready for the meet.” I let him take my hand as he leads me down the dark hallway, passing door after door. I need to explore this house one day. Not today, but one day. We reach the end to a second dining area, a more private one. A crystal chandelier hangs delicately from the ceiling and there’s a large rectangle table with dark red chairs surrounding it.
“Hello, dear,” Scarlet says, pulling out boxes of what I recognize as makeup.
“Hi!” I haven’t seen her or Elena in a while, and a part of me feels guilty that I haven’t made the time to see Elena. I mentally mark it in my brain to visit her.
Scarlet has always been beautiful, and you can really see the striking resemblance between her and Bishop. Does she know about Abel? Probably not. Does she know about Hector? Honestly, I’d like to say no, but I’m not naïve. I see the cracks in these people where others would see silk.
“What’s going on?” I look between her and Brantley.
Brantley takes a seat. “You need to get painted to come with us, Princessa…”
“The meet? I wasn’t painted last time…”
Scarlet pauses, her hand in the air as she continues to dip her brushes into the SFX makeup.
“That’s because you weren’t technically supposed to be there.” Brantley’s tone is smooth.
“No woman is supposed to be there.” Scarlet raises an eyebrow at me. “But you’re different.”
So I’ve heard.
I take a seat and watch as she brushes strokes of black and white over Brantley’s face.
“What’s the meaning behind that?” I ask, gesturing to the face paint. “I know people do it for Halloween, but I never understood why The Kings do it?”
Scarlet continues on Brantley’s face. “Well, the reason why The Kings have always done it is a lot simpler than why people use it during Halloween, or even why they celebrate it for All Saints Day. We use it as a way to express to our men that we all die.” Scarlet’s eyes come to me. “The wives of The Kings learn to apply this to their husband during meets. It’s our way of telling them that they’re not immortal. Their flesh is still human, and their black hearts still beat.”
Interesting, I think to myself. “So now I’m wearing it?”
Scarlet chuckles. “Yes, but yours will be the Stuprum design.”
Now I’m intrigued. Brantley continues getting his done and when he turns to face me, I smirk. “You look good, Bran Bran…”
He flips me off.
I take a seat on the chair Brantley was on, pushing my hair back.
Scarlet’s eyes come to mine. “Yours is the same as The Kings, only you have this.” She takes out a small jewel. It’s red glint glistens against the light. “On your forehead.”
I tilt my head. “What if it falls off?”
She laughs. “I can assure you, it will not. I will need you to look after it from now on, though. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I answer, offering a smile of reassurance. “I can do that.”
She gets started on the mask and I ignore Brantley beside me, his phone blowing up every two seconds.
“You look good,” Brantley says as I slide off the chair. “You can’t wear that though,” he comments, pointing to my outfit.
I raise an eyebrow, but it feels weird. Heavy, like a thousand layers of paint is on top of it. “Why?”
“Because you can’t.”
Scarlet clears her throat. “You’re a size four, right?”
I look at her. “On a good day, yes, otherwise a six. Why?”
She pulls out a black dress that looks more like a size zero and less like a four. I take it from her, skeptical.
“Wear it. Pair it with some thigh-high boots, and Tillie?” she says as my glance drops down the small black and lace… dress. “Own it like the queen that you are.”
Her words surge through me, power in each letter.
I smile, nodding my head. “I will.” I hope. I quickly stumble out of the dining hall and dip into Luce’s office that we were all in not long ago. I remove my clothes and am butt naked when the door opens.
“Woah!” Brantley spins around, covering his eyes.
“What the fuck, Bran Bran… how many times have you seen me naked?” I laugh, slipping the dress over my head.
His shoulders shake in amusement. “Yeah, but not so much anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I flip my hair out from under the dress, shimmying it down.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters. “You decent?”
I roll my eyes, gathering my clothes from the floor. “Yes. I just need to go and grab my boots.”
I dash in and out and I have my thigh-high boots fastened securely around my legs. Scarlet has set me up big time with this dress. It’s short, tight, and where the bust dips in between my breasts, there are layers of lace sewn in. There’s also a little slit on the left thigh that I’m pretty sure you can almost see my G-string through.
I stroll toward Brantley’s car, rumbling angrily in the spot. I open the door and slide in, fluffing my hair up.
“Jesus fucking—” He shakes his head, dropping into first gear and zipping us out of the driveway. “Yeah, Daddy is not going to be happy about that dress.”
I flip the mirror down and smear my dark burgundy lipstick across evenly. “He has never cared before.”
Silence.
“What?” I snap at Brantley when he doesn’t
