Chapter 14
Avidya
It wasn’t even a week later before father brought another man by to meet me. Three days to be exact. For some odd reason, my mom was determined to have me dress nicely. I wanted to roll my eyes at such a thought. Wasn’t what my parents deemed to be my clothing style dressy? I always had to look my best, for whatever reason that I could never understand. Most of the clothing I didn’t like, yet I had no choice in it. My mother did all the shopping from online, so I never knew what I would be wearing until it arrived. A few things in my closet were left untouched for months, though.
This time, I wasn’t so lucky on what I was forced to wear. Even with being eighteen, I still had to follow my parent’s rules and would have to until I moved out.
Yeah, that thought was extremely depressing.
“Cheer up,” mom said, although she didn’t sound all that pleased with the turn of events either. I knew she was in a dark place and had been for years. As the days went by, I could see her fall farther into depression. She didn’t hide it from me anymore like she used to, either. Maybe my disappearing for two weeks gave her the chance to stop hiding from me.
“What’s the point?” I asked bitterly. I could only take so much. I never really put much thought into how my life was, and what would become of me. Not until I was kidnapped by a man that now claimed me as his.
“To make your father happy. Now go put this on,” she replied, pushing the garments into my hands.
I couldn’t help but let my disgust show as I slipped on the dress. It may be pretty, but not me at all. I no longer knew who I was. The dress was white with a white soft netting at the top around my shoulders, and the rest a silk like material. Vines with pink flowers had been stitched on the lace covering the entire dress. It was a bit older fashioned, and not me. No matter what the price tag may have been, I wasn’t thrilled with it.
I had been careful of what I wore the past few weeks since my return, knowing that the burn mark on my inner forearm would be easily seen if someone knew what to look for. I couldn’t put it past my father, and I didn’t want to test his mood either. Now, I would have no choice but too. At the same time, maybe I could get some sort of information out of him.
When I finally made my way downstairs to the kitchen, I could hear father and another man talking. I put it off as long as I could, knowing I would make my father upset on purpose. I just couldn’t help it.
With one last deep breath, I stepped into view and came face to face with my parents and the man that would try to win my hand in marriage. Good luck buddy. I nearly snorted at the thought. There was no way I’d willingly marry him. Even if Zachariah was not an option.
This man sat straight in the chair across from my father in the living room. His dark eyes took me in from head to toe with a look of thrilled pleasure. His nose was too long and small for his clean shaven square face. His greasy dark hair fell across his forehead, nearly hiding his eyebrows. His skin was darker than my father’s and made my skin crawl with a shiver.
He made my stomach twist in knots. This man here was not the typical type of people my family ever associated with. Once, I thought it was because they didn’t like anyone different colored, but now, I was positive that there was more to the story than just that.
“This her?” he asked as his eyes met my widened ones. He didn’t seem all that impressed, and the feeling was mutual.
“Who else would she be?” my father breathed out in annoyance. “Avidya, this is Miquel.”
“Not what I was expecting,” Miquel stated, his eyes hardening just a tad. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. She is a sight to behold. So, light and would bruise easily, though.”
I remained there, not saying anything. I wasn’t sure if I could say anything nicely; it was better to not say anything than speak my mind.
“Come check on dinner with me, Avidya,” my mom said, standing up from her spot she had sat beside my father.
I followed her as my father mumbled something about me being a bit quiet most of the time, as any lady of the house should be.
“Can you be a little more sociable?” mom asked once we were in the kitchen. Her voice was quiet so it wouldn’t carry farther than where we stood in front of the stove. “He’s here to impress your father, and can offer you more than any other man can.”
“What do you expect from me? I mean, come on, throwing men my way for marriage. Father cannot make me go through with it,” I huffed out, not entirely caring if my father heard me or not. Actually, let him hear. I’d like to see what he would do if he did hear.
“Watch it,” mom said, shooting me a worried, helpless look. “He’s in a mood today, so please, go along with it, alright.”
Taking a deep breath, I stood there beside the counter. My mind raced with why I was suddenly acting like this. I had never really acted out when my choices have been taken from me my entire life. I went day by day doing whatever was expected of me.
And now, I was fighting. Although I was pissed with a new sight on how my life had always been, I felt stronger mentally. Consequences be damned.
“What has gotten into you?” mom mumbled, mostly to herself.
I wanted to answer. It would have been so easy. So, easy to ask right then and there about where I really came from too. Instead, I remained quiet, seething and thinking.
“Don’t answer that,” she said quickly, afraid to know herself. “Set this on the table. Please, Vidie, don’t make your father punish you for the way you are acting.” Her look turned sad as if she knew what would happen with the next hour.
I nodded, taking the casserole dish filled with some sort of vegetarian mix to the table after slipping oven mitts on. I would rather eat dirt than this food that already tasted like dirt. I would try to not test my father, knowing what he was capable of. My mouth seemed to run on its own since my return. I just couldn’t stop it most times.
It didn’t take long for mom to call the men in for dinner and for us all to be sat around the table and food on our plates. Thankfully, there was an empty seat between Miquel and myself. I kept my eyes on my plate, fearing to be seen. I felt forced to sit here and I couldn’t help but compare it to when Zachariah sat beside me, including me in the conversation.
“So, Miquel,” mom spoke up, ignoring my father’s glare her way. “What makes you want to marry my daughter?” I looked up, waiting for the answer. I kind of wanted to know, too.
“Why not?” he replied in return. His dark eyes hid his emotions, but I knew he was not the man that would hold my safety in his hands. He would easily be the one that caused the pain.
“Lynn,” father warned her, telling her to not continue on her questioning.
“She has the right to ask,” Miquel spoke. I wasn’t sure where he was originally from, but his voice had some sort of slight accent. “Your daughter is lovely, and would be an amazing person to have on my arm as I attend events and meetings.”
Ah, so there was so much more, but he wanted arm candy. I couldn’t help but smirk, not surprised at his words. There was more to it, I could tell. He was surprised for some reason when he first saw me, but now, he acted as though he had everything planned out.
“Although, she looks nothing like either of you,” he did point out. “Makes it so much appealing.” His eyes widened in thrill.
“She is my blood,” father spoke darkly. “Does it matter if she’s not like us?”
“Well, yes it does,” he said, setting down his fork he had been using to eat with. “I don’t want to step on toes if she’s not yours to give.” He talked as if I was a piece of property!
“She’s mine,” father repeated, trying to put an end to the topic.
Miquel looked between the three of us with calculating eyes, thoughts surely swirling in his mind of the possibilities. He was hard to read and almost seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind on if he wanted me or not now that I was in front of him.
“No, she isn’t,” he stated, sitting up straight with a pleased smile on his face. “Maybe Lynn’s, if she had an affair, but she looks nothing like either of you.”
“No such thing!” father shouted, standing up from his chair, a look of pure rage on his face. “How dare you question her lineage!”
“Then you either bought her, or stole her, and hope to regain any money that you have lost in doing so,” Miquel said in a near laugh. He looked over at me, my forearms upwards. As his eyes darkened and glared at my arm, Miquel knew. What would he do now? Would he leave the issue be? Walk away and never be here again? Or would he fight to take me?
“She is marked, taken already,” he said, roughly grabbing my arm and pulling me towards him, taking a closer look. I could feel his fingers dig into my skin, leaving his own temporary mark. I wished that I had not had to wear this dress, knowing I couldn’t hide the stupid mark forever but wanted to so badly.
“Of course, she isn’t,” father replied hotly, but yet confused.
“She is marked. No wonder why all the other men have backed out,” Miquel said, pushing me away just as roughly. Good thing I was sitting, or I would have fallen. Although, I was positive that no one really cared about my wellbeing in this house. Least of all father.
My father took that moment to stomp around the table and take ahold of my arm, inspecting the burn mark that was clearly seeable through the now red marks left by the man. I had yet to figure out what the design was. It was covering a capital M with swirls and loops. His expression turned from disbelief to furious in a matter of milliseconds.
“How dare you,” father hissed, his hold tightened as his eyes darkened further. I was used to his hands on me in such a manner. Normally, mom would stand in, and she’d take most of his anger. This time, I was alone in my sorrow, in my pain. “When did this happen?”
“I didn’t know,” I said, lying through my teeth. I shook my head as tears began to leak from the corners of my eyes. Surely, I could pass my lie easily enough.
“You never were able to lie well,” he seethed into my face as he neared even closer. “Disrespectful brat.”
“Cody,” mom said, her voice covered in unshed tears. Like me, she learned that tears were never a good thing in this household.
“Stay out of this Lynn,” father said, shooting a hot filled glare her way, instantly making her shut her mouth. Turning back to me, “No wonder why Zachariah was so intent on seeing you himself so soon. He marked you, didn’t he?”
“No,” I cried out, telling the truth. “He didn’t know, I swear.”
“That is his mark!” Miquel said in a way to egg my father onward. “I’ve seen it more than enough times to know. It’s no secret to who the Melendez family is.”
“Don’t lie to me!” father seethed in rage.
“Gemini,” I cried, begging my father to drop it. Begging for him to stop. “He . . . he did it. He planned to give me to someone else when he tired of me.” Tears fell from my eyes as I spoke the words.
“He’s dead,” father glared at me, squeezing my arm tighter with each second that ended as my mother tried, but failed, to contain her sobs from the other side of the table.
“He is,” I confirmed.
I was cut off from saying anything else as father quickly released my arm in a fit of rage, knocking me out of the chair and onto the floor. He had never been quite this rough with me before. What was going on in his head? Did I even want to know?
I stared up at him in shock, not sure what to do. He hid secrets just as much as I did, if not more.
“The Melendez family will come after me if I take her,” Miquel stated as father huffed in rage as he glared down at me. “I won’t touch her, and neither will any other man who is in their right mind. Is she worth that much to risk killing everyone?”
“I need her gone,” father said, still beyond angry.
“I can understand that,” Miquel spoke, his voice more of like a mentor all of a sudden than a man that wanted to win me. “But not at a cost like this. Who knows which Melendez man marked her, she is no longer yours to give away, Cody, no matter the price you are offering. I can no longer be of any help her.”
With that, he stood, shooting me a sad look before speaking for my benefit alone. “You won’t last long there, Avidya. Too bad too. You should have stayed with your captor.”
Miquel left, his footsteps quiet as he let himself out of the house.
I had no idea what he meant, nor who he was for sure. One minute, he seemed to hate me, and the next he pitied me? That made no sense, or maybe it was just my thoughts that didn’t make sense.
With one last breath, father’s black shoed foot made an impact against my ribs, knocking my breath out through my parted lips. Blackness took over my sight as mom’s sobs broke the quiet within the house.