Messed Up (31 page)

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Authors: Molly Owens

Tags: #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

BOOK: Messed Up
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“Good Afternoon, Sir,” the guard said as we drove through the gate.

“Sir?” I smiled at Levi, “How official.”

The road wound up a small sloped hill. On either side of the narrow lane were large ancient looking oak trees, their twisted and knotty branches dripping with pale green Spanish moss. As the car took one last turn, Levi’s house suddenly came into view. If I hadn’t known for a fact that we had been in Santa Juanita only moments ago, I would have sworn that we were somewhere in the deep south. A sprawling emerald lawn, at least a football field’s length, stretched out in front of an imposing colonial manor. The path that cut through the grass and led to the doorway was made of deep red brick. Outstretched branches from the oak trees created a tunnel over the grass. Green shuttered windows peeked out between eight exceptionally white and stately pillars.

We continued around the house to a long circular driveway. From that angle I could see that the house extended far beyond its rectangular appearance, with two huge wings on either side. The enormity of Levi’s house was stunning. In fact labeling it a house doesn’t feel quite right, it was a mansion, if there ever was one. I’d spent the last month going to parties at Levi’s friend’s houses and I had gotten to see many examples of what my mom would call
starter castles
, but this was way beyond that. There was no starter to this castle, this was the real deal.

I climbed out of Levi’s car, feeling more nervous about meeting his parents now that I knew just how out of my league I really was.


Jesus Levi,” I muttered under my breath, “you must really feel like you’re really slumming it at my house.”

With a half smile at my comment, he took my hand and lead me through a white picket gate. The back of the house looked out on an immense pool, its waters were completely still and deep blue as they reflected the bright sky above. As we neared the covered porch that jetted out from the rear of the house, I could hear the clinking of silverware against plates. I realized with a start that Levi’s family was sitting at a long table on the deck, eating in near silence.

I quickly took in their faces as they each looked up to stare at me. The woman at the end of the table was clearly Levi’s mother. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with eyes exactly the same shade of piercing blue as Levi’s. She had her hair pulled back in a severely tight ponytail. Her cheek bones, dusted with rose colored blush, were sharp and defined. Then there were four of Levi’s six brothers. Genetics had been far too kind to the Bennett’s when it came to attractiveness. Each one of them could have easily graced the pages of GQ. Next to each son, sat his female counterpart, all looking like forlorn versions of Stepford wives. I immediately felt like turning and running in the opposite direction as I realized that I’d just entered a David Lynch film; surreally disturbed.

“You’re late,” said Levi’s mother in a harsh and biting tone, her eyes literally scowling at us. I suddenly felt defensive of Levi as the story of his mother’s denial of him played in my mind.

“My apologies, Mother,” Levi said sounding strangely formal, “Everyone I’d like you to meet Chelsea Mallory.” He then went on to list off everyone’s names, most of which I immediately forgot aside from Steven whom Mr. Miller had mentioned knowing.

Levi pulled out a chair for me and I sat smiling awkwardly at the group. For the most part the women looked down at their plates, seeming to concentrate unnecessarily hard on their spears of asparagus. The men, in contrast, looked at me with curious interest.

“Mallory,” I heard Mrs. Bennett roll my last name around in her mouth, “What kind of name is that?”

“It’s French, Mother,” Levi answered before I had even registered the question. I honestly had no clue where our family of mutts had gotten their name.

“I see,” she said sounding immediately disinterested.

A small woman in a black and white maid’s uniform appeared through the back door, and placed a plate of food in front of me and one in front of Levi. I glanced down at my plate and discovered that it looked like something from the pages of Bon Appetite magazine, a large white plate with very little food, artfully arranged. I began to pick at a microscopic piece of ham as Levi and his brothers began quietly discussing the current state of the stock market. This is so bizarre, I thought to myself, what century is this? Next thing you know they will be smoking cigars and lamenting the end of slavery for its effect on the price of cotton.

The maid returned and filled Levi’s glass with champagne. She moved to fill mine as well, but I quickly put my hand over the top, “No, thank you,” I said politely.

“She’ll have some,” Mrs. Bennett interjected shapely before the bottle had been fully retracted. My hand recoiled instantly as if I’d just been shocked by an electrical outlet. The maid filled my glass with the bubbling liquid, “Drink up dear, we always have dom Perignon on Sunday.”

“She doesn’t drink Mother,” Levi said calmly.

“A glass of champagne is hardly drinking,” her eyes penetrated me expectantly.

I took a sip of the liquid which seemed to evaporate instantly on my tongue, “Delicious. Thank you,” I smiled pleasantly. I felt Levi squeeze my thigh gently.

A door opened behind me and everyone stood immediately as the man I assumed to be Levi’s father, stepped onto the porch. Mr. Bennett looked somewhat like his son, with sharp defined features that seemed to be carved from stone. Unlike Levi though, there was nothing friendly or even remotely inviting about his broad smiling expression.

“Good morning!” he boomed, coming directly to my side, “Chelsea, I presume,” he said flashing a gleaming white smile at me as he shook my hand, “Alistair Bennett.” I could feel my heart skip a beat as my eyes met his. They were the same murky gray eyes that I’d seen last night, beneath the black mask with the red stitching. He was their leader.

“Nice to meet you,” I said feeling myself shutter inwardly.

“This is quite an occasion,” Mr. Bennett said as he sat down at the head of the table, “This is the first time Levi has brought a girlfriend to our house, isn’t that true, son?”

Levi looked at his father with a somber expression, “True,” he muttered.

“Your home is beautiful,” I said attempting to lighten mood and defuse the tension that had multiplied monumentally since Mr. Bennett’s arrival.

“Yes, it must feel like an absolute palace to someone of your upbringing,” Mrs. Bennett said coldly.

Mr. Bennett slammed his hand on the table suddenly, causing every person sitting around it to jump in unison, aside from Mrs. Bennett who scowled at me and gulped down her entire glass of champagne, “That’s enough, Victoria. You will be pleasant to our guest” he turned to me, the wide grin on his face once more, “You’ll have to excuse my wife, she has the manners of a cheap whore.”

I stared down at my plate, noticing that nobody responded to his inflammatory insult of their mother. We all ate in silence. The only sound was the bubbling of a small fountain on the grass and the clinking of silverware against china plates. I contemplated how different this lunch would be if I were at Conner’s house. I began to feel almost homesick for the friendly, boisterously loud Bianchi family.

When the meal finally ended Mrs. Bennett stumbled into the house without speaking another word. She had clearly had her fill of don Per-
whatever
this morning. We were then excused from the table. As I stood, I had a similar sensation to that of finishing a grueling final exam, pure relief.

The feeling would not last long however, I soon felt Mr. Bennett place his hand gingerly on the small of my back, “Chelsea,” he said, his voice sounding like that of a hissing snake, “I’d like to speak with you in my office for a moment.” My stomach turned as an image of him spitting in that girl Zoe’s face flashed in my mind. I was certain I did not want to be alone with this man. I glanced up at Levi with eyes that I hoped he would read as pleading, and see it in his heart to help me.

Levi took my hand, “We only have a minute Father. I wanted to show Chelsea my room and then we are due at Noah’s house.”


You have plenty of time,” he said looking sternly at Levi, who simply nodded.

We followed his father through the house, which despite its gleaming white exterior, was dark and cavernous on the inside. Renaissance styled portraits hung on dark green and burgundy walls. There were very few windows and the ones that there were, were all covered in heavy drapes.

Mr. Bennett’s office was in the front corner of the house. It too was dark, with its decor in shades of brown and forest green. Towering book cases stretched from floor to ceiling on three of the four walls. Mr. Bennett took his seat behind a dark mahogany table sized desk. He began spinning in little half circles in his swivel chair, as I placed myself in a leather full backed chair in front of him. Levi began to sit down but was halted halfway by Mr. Bennett’s words, “Wait outside, son.”

Levi froze, staring with intensely angry eyes at his father, “I’m not leaving,” he stated, enunciating each word for effect.

His father cackled in a frighteningly devilish laugh, “I’m not going to eat her son,” he said and then looked at me and winked, “Although I’m sure she tastes delicious.” What is this, an episode of True Blood? I thought.

“Say what you need to say,” Levi demanded moving to stand behind me with his hands planted on my shoulders. I couldn’t settle on what would be worse, being left alone with this diabolical man, or witnessing the consequences if Levi didn’t follow his orders.

“OUT NOW!” he snarled loudly. I could feel Levi’s grip tighten on my shoulders as his body reacted to his father’s outburst. They stared at each other for a couple unbearably long moments, and then finally Levi relented.

“I’ll be right outside Chelsea. You have two minutes,” he said to his father.

I heard the door close behind him and then Mr. Bennett spoke, “It’s very sweet, isn’t it? He seems to genuinely like you.”

I nodded silently. I guess he likes me, although he has a strange way of showing it, I thought of the bruise on my leg.

“Chelsea, I want to explain something to you, so that you won’t have to learn it the hard way,” he paused looking, not at my eyes, but at my chest. I suddenly wished I’d worn a shirt I could button up to my neck and maybe a sweater over that. “In our family there is only one person who has the final say, and that is me. You may think that you are only required to do as Levi asks, but that is a fallacy, because ultimately you answer to me.” He stood up and walked over to sit in the chair next to me. I could feel my heart speed up as his proximity increased. “Is that clear?” he asked, resting his hand on my thigh, just under the hem of my dress.
“Got it,” I said loudly, jumping to my feet and taking several quick steps to the door just as Levi burst through it and grabbed my hand.

“Time’s up,” he said pulling me from the room. We were in the hallway when I heard the frightening cackle of his father’s laugh.

“How about you show me your room another time,” I said looking at Levi urgently.

He nodded and pulled me quickly out a side door. We were back in his car and driving away from his house when I finally remembered to breathe.

 

I was actually beginning to feel a tiny twinge of pity for Levi as we drove back into town in silence. His family life was way beyond any dysfunction that I could have anticipated. It was clear he was using control and fear in our relationship because that is precisely what his parents had modeled for him. I was the daughter of a therapist, for crying out loud, this was textbook psychology if I’d ever seen it.

My empathy only lasted a couple minutes though, just until Levi pulled his car up an unmarked dirt road, and forced me to get out. I could see his rage when I looked into his eyes. I knew that this time I wasn’t going to be receiving punishment; I was going to be the human punching bag. I watched him silently as he pulled his belt from around his waist. With one hand he shoved my chest into the car violently. The air was forced out of my lungs in a burst.


Levi, please don’t do this,” I begged hopelessly, “I don’t deserve this. What did I do?” I could hear the tremble in my voice.

He paused for a moment as if he might actually be considering my words, but then continued to rip my dress down so it fell around my ankles. I felt the leather searing across my back as Levi struck me. The pain was a combination of burning and stinging. I closed my eyes tightly and ground my teeth together.

It’s strange how the mind works. As Levi viciously whipped me, as the stinging welts rose on my back, I began to consider how it could be worse. He could be using the end with the buckle. Yes, that would be more painful, I’m sure. Then I thought about how I would rather be with Levi at that moment, belt and all, then with his father in some sexually perverted ritual of domination. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice when Levi stopped striking me. What brought my mind back to the moment was the sound coming from Levi. I turned around to find him curled in a ball, crying like a little child.

31

 

As I stood watching Levi cry quietly into his hands, I felt totally removed from reality; stunned by the sight of someone I had found so menacing, so powerful, just seconds ago, now look so entirely vulnerable. I pulled my dress back up carefully, the elastic band around its top scratching against the welts on my back. I cringed as the pain began to surge through my body pulling me out of the fog of disbelief that had surrounded me ever so briefly. My legs began to tremble weakly under me and allowed myself to melt to the ground. With a jagged panting breath I put my head on my knees feeling the hot ground against my bare thighs.

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