Page 134 of Mask and the Magnolia
He made me take out my piercings, wear a skintight, silk, way too revealing dress with sky high heels and the flashiest jewelry he could buy me. I had to dye the purple streaks in my hair a natural color, blond being his choice even though it looks awful with my natural black. Even the hairdo is horrible, some stupid updo that required my hair be blown out and curled, then riddled with bobby-pins and hairspray.
I look like my mother and I absolutely hate it.
But this is my life now.
Meaningless events, shallow people, and masquerading as something I’ll never be.
As long as I know my mates are safe, that’s all that matters.
Which is why I steel my spine and hurry out of the bathroom, quickly making my way down the hall and to the stairs where I know Camden is waiting for me.
“About fucking time,” he hisses in my ear the second I’m close enough. “I hate to be kept waiting, Magnolia.”
I bite my tongue as he grabs my arm, squeezing tightly as he leads me down the first two.
He’s hurting me.
Even as he dons his trademark smile and makes like he’s escorting me to my devoted followers, Camden’s grip is painful, and I doubt he gives a shit.
He probably likes it.
“If we’d have missed your father’s toast, I would have pushed you down these goddamn stairs and played the part of devastated fiancé while they scooped your brain off the marble floor at the bottom.”
Well that’s cute.
I bet that’s part of his wedding vows.
Plastering a fake smile on my face, I nod to people as we descend, wave when I need to, and keep pretending like there isn’t a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be.
If Camden doesn’t kill me, being torn away from the men I love definitely will. It’s just a race to see which happens first.
“Magnolia,” my father says between clenched teeth. “We had to postpone my toast for you.”
I stop on the bottom step as Camden stands below me, working the crowd like he was born to do it while The Dean gets in position to say his piece.
He taps the side of his champagne glass as he lifts it in the air, making sure the attention is on him and nowhere else in the room. “Thank you all so much for coming. It means the world to Camden and Magnolia to see all of you here, joyously helping celebrate their love.” My father lowers his glass and turns to me, pretending like he gives a shit as his lips twist into an awful smile. “From the moment you were born, I knew?—“
A deafening crack echoes throughout the room, a loud pop that has everyone ducking and covering their heads.
“You knew she’d be a fucking goldmine.”
I look around from my crouched position, searching the part of the crowd I can see for that distorted voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, humans of all genders, identities, designations, and everyone in between. May we please have your undivided fucking attention.”
I lift my head as the group starts to split down the middle, two groups of terrified socialites parting like the Red Sea.
“We are here for one reason and one reason alone,” the voice says and I find myself trying to stand, still searching for a source. “If everyone cooperates, this should be nice and smooth for all parties involved.”
I have no idea what the hell is going on but as I straighten up and look toward the back of the room, my heart skips a beat.
There are four men dressed in all black and wearing masks, each with a different color neon stitching covering their eyes and mouth. They’re moving in a diamond formation, spread out but in sync, and all four of them are armed to the teeth.
The two on the outside, the ones in green and yellow, have some kind of rifle at the ready, maybe a semiautomatic but I have no idea, and they’re using them to keep the crowd of old money at bay.
The one at the back wearing the blue neon stitches has a Glock in each hand, I know what those look like from working at the asylum, but they’re a little more threatening than I’ve ever seen. Especially since he’s using them to reinforce the rifles as well as cover the back of their formation while the one in front starts speaking again.
“We’ve come to crash the party since there won’t be a wedding,” he says, the pink neon stitching moving across the crowd as he cocks the shotgun in his hand. “Hell, who am Ikidding, we are the goddamn party and we can go all night if we have to.”
