Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals) by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long [Long, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Hell’s Waiting Room

Emersyn

The dress itched. The collar was too tight. The lace poked at me. The shoes were the wrong size. I said nothing as they dressed me up. The instructions had been specific. No sooner had I arrived than one of the maids swept me upstairs.

I’d at least expected to see my mother and father first, but the event that evening was very important and appearances had to be kept. As much as I tried not to fidget, the woman plaiting my hair kept yanking it. I glared at her in the mirror and opened my mouth to say something as the door opened behind her.

“There’s my princess!” The deep timbre of his voice rolled over the room. The maids attending me scattered as he approached. “Jeanette, don’t pull her hair back. It makes her look too severe, and she doesn’t like it.”

I lifted my gaze to meet his in the mirror. “Thank you, Uncle.”

He smiled, smoothing a hand over my hair and untangling the plaits. My scalp still tingled from where she’d been yanking it.

“Yes, sir,” Jeanette simpered and stared at my uncle with a kind of adoration. All the maids did. In his house, he was worshipped. He was the king, and I was his princess.

“Where is my hug, Princess?” His hand skated down to my shoulder, and I turned before he pulled me back. I wrapped my arms around him, careful of the dress, and let him press me to him. My head only reached his belly, and I held my breath to not breathe in his cologne. “That’s my girl. You can all leave us.”

“The party…” Jeanette began.

My uncle didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The maids scurried out of the room, and then we were alone. He stroked my hair, and I didn’t move away from the hug until he leaned back and caught my hands.

“Come here, Princess. Tell me about school.” He settled neatly into the armchair in the room he’d had decorated for me. It was a suite of rooms, or so the maids said. It came with the bedroom, the small sitting room outside, and the bathroom.

With a sigh, I climbed into his lap. When I would have perched on the arm of the chair, he tugged me down to sitting on his thigh. I was too old for this, but Uncle Bradley never wanted to hear that. When we were alone, he liked to cuddle me.

His favorite part of the day.

I tried not to shift around, but the dress itched. They hadn’t made me pull on stockings or shoes yet, so I braced my toes against the arm of the chair. I could at least free some of the itchy stuff away from the backs of my thighs.

“It’s fine,” I said, answering his question about school. “Mrs. Holloman is really neat. She lets me read whenever I’m done with assignments. I don’t have a roommate anymore.” I’d liked Lainey. It had been the first year the school assigned me

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