Willing Captive(2)

My bedroom is freaking huge. It’s five hundred and thirty square feet, which is half the size of our old home. If I stand at the door and look into my room, this is what I’d see: On the left-hand side is a mahogany, four-poster, king-sized bed with a floral-print bedspread. Next to it is a matching mahogany dresser that is just for looks because I don’t have a lot of clothes (I’m not a girly girl who likes to shop), a desk which I never use because I prefer to do any school work on my bed. There’s a door leading to my built-in closet, and a second door leading to my private en-suite bathroom. On the right-hand side, is a complete entertainment system with a big screen LCD TV, DVD player, a PlayStation 3, a brand new stereo, which also acts as surround sound when I watch movies, two comfortable sofas, and my favorite feature is my library lining the entire back wall.

Reading is my escape. It makes my brain work, which gives me a short reprieve from my isolated life.

My room has been painted a pale-peach color, which I love. I have several paintings lining the walls, and a huge bay window leading to the small patio outside.

Terah, who is twenty-four, has a room that looks identical to mine, just on the opposite side of the hall. Our bedrooms are the only two that are permanently occupied on the second floor; the rest are guest bedrooms. Mom and Dad occupy the only bedroom on the first floor. Dad said it’s safer for Terah and me in case any intruders come thieving in the night, that way, theirs would be the first bedroom approached. Can you believe that? I’d rolled my eyes and told him he’d been watching too many ‘CSI’ shows.

Looking up from my eReader, I sneak a peek at my sister. Her puppy-dog eyes are wide in pleading and she bats her lashes at me. She looks like a constipated shih-tzu . I laugh, “Don’t even try it. I’m not going. You wanna party? Party, Terah. I’m staying right here.”

She throws her hands down on the comforter and growls at me. “Fine! Become a crazy cat lady. See if I care. Don’t say I didn’t try to help when you’re stroking your pussies all night long wishing someone was stroking yours.”

I burst into laughter as she slides off my bed and makes her way to the wall to wall mirror in my walk-in closet. Stepping out of the closet, she asks, “How do I look?”

Looking up, I silently take her in.

She’s beautiful. As always. Wearing a pair of black short shorts that make her already long legs look impossibly longer. The deep-green sequined halter she has on makes her emerald-green eyes pop, her deep burgundy hair cascades down her back in soft waves, and the small-heeled sandals make the whole look deceptively innocent. She takes a pair of my gold dangly earrings and puts them on.

Truth be told, I look a lot like my sister. When people see us together, they ask if we’re twins. We look almost identical to the way our mom looked when she was younger: deep red hair, green eyes, tall and slim. My dad always said he hoped we’d be ugly like him. That never fails to make me laugh because my dad is really quite handsome. He’s tall with a solid frame, dark brown hair, and light-green eyes.

“You look beautiful, Rahrah.” I say wistfully.

She smiles at my use of her childhood nickname. Her soft eyes peer into mine. She whispers, “Please come with me. Just one more time.”

Dipping my chin, I shake my head slowly. “Naw, I’d just become the life of the party.” I shoot her a wicked grin. “I know how much you like being the center of attention. Wouldn’t wanna take that away from you. You go. I’ll cover.”

Stomping over to me, she sits back on the bed and wraps her arms around me. I hug her back as hard as I can without choking her. She snickers, “Ha ha, bitch.” She holds me a long time before she mutters, “Not always gonna be like this. You’ll see.” And it makes me want to cry.

My eyes blur and the bridge of my nose tingles.

“I know,” I mumble into her shoulder.

Squeezing her once more, I release her and put on a huge fake smile. “Go. Quickly.”

Terah runs over to the windows that lead to my patio and blows me a kiss. She opens the door and steps out when we both hear the intercom in my room hiss before dad’s voice clearly sounds. “Terah. Delilah. Downstairs. Now.”

Terah’s stunned facial expression is priceless. I burst into laughter and say in a sing-song voice, “Someone’s busted.”

Eyes wide with shock, she whisper hisses, “No way! There’s no way he knows. This has gotta be something else.”

I shrug. “Lucky you didn’t go. We both would’ve been in lockdown for a month.”

Terah looks down at herself. She looks like she’s going clubbing and we need to cover her up quickly before my dad sees. “Take off your shoes and put on my robe. Wrap it up tight.”

She slips into my red Japanese silk robe and ties it so tight she’s probably cutting off the circulation from her waist down. We make our way downstairs and into the dining room. As soon as I see my dad, I know two things: he’s tired, and worried.

Shit. Not good.

Mom sits next to him, holding his hand, looking equally as tired and twice as worried.

Double shit. Something’s wrong.

Terah and I stand just inside the dining room door. We look at each other with obvious concern and she takes my hand in hers and squeezes. I clear my throat and my dad looks up. He puts on a fake smile. “Ah, there ye are. Come in, my girls. Take a seat.” I love my dad’s accent.