Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

All of the delicious food swirled in my stomach as memories relentlessly assaulted me. My parents had so little in their lives, always struggling to make ends meet, trying to provide me with the basics just to survive, and then, before life could get any easier for us, they were stolen from me in a freak stupid accident that didn’t even make any sense.

My dad was an amazing driver; he’d never lost control. Not once in my entire life, and we’d driven in way worse conditions than that night.

I miss you.

The truth of that had me scrambling up, and I just barely made it to the toilet before I hurled everything up. Tears poured down my cheeks as I sobbed against the white seat, not even caring that I had my face pressed to the very place an ass had sat.

I just wanted my parents back, I wanted my old life back, I wanted answers to why the fuck I was now a prisoner inside some rich psycho’s house. I wished she’d just continued to be the sort of parent she had been for the first almost eighteen years of my life. Absent.

Now that I’d started to cry, I couldn’t seem to stop, and I hugged my legs tight to my body as I rocked back and forth, trying to relieve the deep ache in my chest. Eventually though, my tears dried up, and I was able to get myself under a semblance of control again.

Since I was already in the bathroom, I took a long, hot bath, which was another luxury I’d never had in my life, and by the time I was dry, dressed in some stupidly comfortable silk pajamas, fatigue was pressing in on me again.

Might as well sleep the rest of the day away.

Crawling into the bed, I snuggled under the covers, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply. The scent of the sheets were so clean and light and fresh that my head went dizzy at the sheer opulence of this bed.

Just as I was drifting off, a weird noise jerked me awake. Blinking, I sat up, looking around as I tried to figure out what it was. It sounded again a moment later, and I let out a little gasp before reaching down to where I’d left my jeans, dragging the phone out of the pocket.

The phone! I’d completely forgotten I had it.

Sliding the bar across, I saw there were three messages waiting for me.

Dante: Girl, is everything okay? Do I need to bust a fucking bullet in her ass?

Dante: Riles, I’m not fucking around. Answer my message or I’m coming for you.

Then the last one, which had come through two seconds ago. Dante: I’m on my way.

I frantically typed out a reply, my fingers stumbling over the keys, so that half of the words were messed up. Me: I’m fiene. Just lcked in room. Stupid bitchh.

I held my breath, hoping he hadn’t smashed his phone when I didn’t reply. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Not that Dante and I fought much, but when we did...

Air rushed out of me when the phone vibrated again. Dante: Are you okay? Don’t lie to me.

Me: Yes. I’m good. I promise.

Dante: Are you going to school on Monday?

Me: I assume I will be. Debitch hasn’t been here since I got back, so I’m running low on information.

There was some time before his next text arrived.

Dante: I will check in again later. I’m going to see what I can find out for you.

I glared at the phone, wishing I was with him right now. Being locked in this room was messing with my head—I’d always had so much freedom. It was the one thing I’d had in spades.

Me: Don’t get into trouble. Love you.

Dante: Trouble? Me? Love you too, Riles.

I threw the phone onto the bedside table, confident that I’d hear it if Dante messaged me again. As I dropped my head down again, I remembered that I had to send my number to Eddy too, but I’d do that when I woke up. For now, I was sleeping some of this nightmare away.





*



The rest of the weekend passed in slow motion. By the time Monday morning rocked around I’d tried on half my wardrobe, texted Dante twenty times, and set up a time for Eddy to pick me up for school. I hadn’t seen Debitch, and I almost wished she’d come back so we could get this confrontation out of the way. I would not remain a prisoner like this long term. There was no way in hell. So we needed some sort of compromise.

Stewart, who, with a little encouragement, was turning out to be so helpful—he’d even found me a phone charger—knocked on my door. “Riley, the Mistress wants me to inform you that you’ll be going to school this morning. Everything is set up for your enrollment, you just have to go via the office to get your things.”

I flung the door open and grinned at him. “Stew, seriously, that’s the best news I’ve heard all weekend.”

I tried to peer around him to see if Catherine’s coldly beautiful face was close by—she was supposed to be back today—but the hall was empty.

“Am I no longer a prisoner?” I asked, watching him closely.

He smiled. “She is granting you the freedom to go to and from school, for now, and when she returns you will discuss the rest of the rules.”

I was both ready and dreading her return.

“I’ll get dressed,” I said, turning away.

He cleared his throat, and I looked back. “Please wear the uniform correctly,” he said. “I will send one of the day maids up, she will lay it out on the bed.”

I shrugged, having met a few of the day maids already. They never spoke, kept their eyes locked on the ground, and hurried around cleaning.

“I’ll be in the shower then.” Turning the other way, I crossed to my bathroom, as the main bedroom door closed behind me. There was no distinctive click of the lock this time, and I tried to contain the happiness bubbling in my chest.

Freedom had never tasted so sweet, even if I did have to attend a preppy rich school to experience it.

My shower was short because I was more than a little anxious to get out of this room. I slapped on some makeup, taking a little extra care with my eyeliner—I was not rocking up to some rich-kid-school looking like a raccoon. It took me a tad longer to blend makeup around the healing cut on my cheek as well, and nothing could hide it completely, but it was at least harder to see.

I exited the bathroom, clad in matching black underwear, and stopped short when I saw the outfit on the bed. Or more accurately, the shoes perfectly positioned on the floor below.

“No fucking way,” I choked. Were they actually serious right now?

Striding across to the door, I swung it open and called out: “Heels? You want me to wear heels all day?”

I slammed the door then and grumbled the entire way back to my bed. I loved heels as much as the next girl, but I was usually drunk when I wore them, and as Dante said, I usually ended up on my ass at least once during that period of time. My feet already ached just looking at shiny black school shoes.

Knowing I had no choice, I quickly shimmied into the skirt and blouse, not at all surprised they were my exact size. Everything in my clothes room had been my exact size, because Debitch was a weirdo stalker.

The skirt was pretty short, falling to mid-thigh, and I tucked the blouse in. Sitting on the bed, I pulled on the knee-high socks and then gingerly slipped my feet into the shoes. They fit so well. Like, my toes weren’t pinched and nothing rubbed even though they were new.

I wondered if they’d feel this good eight hours from now.

The last piece of the uniform was the jacket, and I slipped into the custom made number, surprised that it slid easily over my cast. Before I could stop myself, I turned to check myself out in a nearby mirror. The floor to ceiling piece, with a wide gilded frame around it, reflected back a stranger.

I’d left my unruly waves out, because it was easier than trying to manhandle it into a bun. My skin looked pale against all the dark colors in the uniform. The shoes made my legs look long, and considering I was just a bit above average height at 5’9, that was a nice change. But everything else about this made me uncomfortable.

Picking up my phone, I snapped a pic and sent it straight to Dante with the caption “I look ridiculous, shoot me now.”

His reply was almost instant.

Dante: Riles…