Bound By The Beta

Mockery

The memory of what had happened just a few hours earlier flooded back.

After the painfully awkward conversation with Bob and his parents, Bob's father had suggested the two of them take a walk in the gardens to "get to know each other better" without supervision.

"We don't want to make them uncomfortable," he had said with a smile. "After all, she will be his wife soon. It's best they spend time alone."

Carmilla had felt a full-body shiver of disgust at the words.

"Mom agreed," Carmilla said, taking a slow bite of her pie. "She didn't really give me a choice."

Layla leaned in. "What happened next?"

"He led me to the garden." Carmilla's face twisted in distaste. "And then he went down memory lane."

Layla's expression mirrored her sister's disgust. "No…"

"Yes," Carmilla nodded grimly. The next words were one of the hardest parts.

"Then he squeezed my ass without permission," Carmilla continued, her voice low. "And made some crude joke about how I act like I'm better than all of them... reading my books, wanting more than to be a housewife."

Her hand trembled slightly. She couldn't meet Layla's eyes.

Layla reached over and gently held her hand. When Carmilla finally looked up, she saw her own pain reflected in her sister's face. Layla gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"So… where was I?" Carmilla swallowed. "Right. He said in the end, I was nothing but his future w***e. Then he tried to force himself on me. I don't know if he wanted a kiss or more… I just blanked. I panicked and stabbed his hand."

Silence fell over the table. It didn't last very long.

A small, fierce smile slowly bloomed on Carmilla's lips as the anger resurfaced, pushing the fear aside.

"And I twisted the knife." Her voice grew stronger. "His scream was the sweetest sound I've ever heard. Imagine it... the girl he thought was harmless, the one he believed he could control, pulling out a knife."

She gestured sharply with her hands.

"He tried to hit me, but I dodged and went for his chest. His screaming alerted everyone. Suddenly I was standing there with a bloody knife while he had a stab wound… I didn't know what to do."

Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper.

"So I ran."

"You left Mom in a house full of psychos?!"

Layla clutched her chest, breathing hard. Carmilla reached out and held her hand.

"Yes… I did. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"f**k, Car…" Layla cursed under her breath.

"I'm not done."

"There's more?! " Layla's voice rose sharply, drawing stares from nearby tables. She lowered it again into a furious whisper. "What the f**k did you do?!"

"Not what I did… what I plan to do." Carmilla looked away. "I'm running away tomorrow morning."

The slap came without warning, stinging across Carmilla's cheek.

Layla's eyes blazed with rage. Every head in the café turned toward them.

"You left Mom there! I don't even know if she's dead or alive! And instead of fixing the mess you made, you're just going to run away?! " Layla hissed. "Get the f**k out of my face, you ungrateful b***h! If Mom dies because of you… you're dead to me. You hear me?!"

"Mommy… stop hitting Aunt Carmilla," Sophia whimpered, her little face scrunching up as she tried to hold back tears. She grabbed her mother's hand desperately.

"Sophia, please be quiet," Layla said sharply as she struggled to her feet, one hand cradling her pregnant belly.

"Let's go. We need to find out if Mom is still alive. We can't have both of her daughters abandon her when things get difficult."

Layla's face had hardened, cold anger burning in her eyes.

"I understand you're scared, but leaving Mom there? You disgust me." Her voice trembled with fury. "You never grew up, did you? We all made sacrifices. Why can't you just do your part?"

Carmilla sat frozen in her seat, her stung cheek still burning. The words cut deeper than the slap had.

"What can I say?" she whispered bitterly. "I'm a selfish bitch."

When Layla stormed out with Sophia, Carmilla remained seated, staring blankly at the table. Her face was pale and forlorn. The café buzzed with murmurs around her, the gossip spreading like wildfire.

She offered a bitter, self-deprecating smile. She wished people would mind their own damned business for once. But she couldn't really blame them, Layla had caused a very public scene, and they were simply reacting.

"Did I just hear that she abandoned her own mother?"

"After everything the Jacksons have done for her…"

"Going to the Academy clearly didn't teach her any morality. What a selfish bitch."

"That poor woman… raising such an ungrateful daughter."

"I'd regret giving birth to a child like that."

Carmilla's eyes burned with unshed tears. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep her expression neutral.

Ursula approached the table quietly.

Layla had forgotten to pay. With numb fingers, Carmilla reached for her purse and placed several silver coins into Ursula's hand.

She knew she would regret spending so much later, her usual frugality would punish her for it but right now, she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Keep the change," Carmilla muttered, barely glancing at Ursula.

"Carmilla…" Ursula began, her hand hovering uncertainly as if she wanted to offer comfort.

Carmilla ignored her. She grabbed her purse and walked out. The doorbell chimed softly behind her.

She had to find a way to escape. She didn't know whether Bob had alerted the police… or if he was even still alive. A dark little voice whispered the latter. She shoved that thought away too.

She had already spent far too long in the café. At least it was several streets away from the Gates mansion.

Her mind was a storm of panic, making it hard to breathe. She gasped subtly for air, feeling as though she were drowning on dry land.

"Oh God, please help me," she whispered desperately. "Send me some good luck."

A light rain began to drizzle. Cold droplets landed on her skin, making her shiver.

Instead of taking the main roads, Carmilla slipped through one of the narrow alleys closest to her house. It was a reckless decision. Returning home when she was likely wanted for a crime was foolish. Yet some guilty, self-destructive part of her almost wanted to be caught.

If it meant sparing her mother from the consequences of her actions, then so be it. A prison cell seemed far more bearable than becoming Bob's wife. At least in prison she could still read and write... small comforts to ease the boredom.

Everything felt dull now. Hollow. Like her life was quietly falling apart at the seams.

She just wanted it all to be over.

Her eyes darted nervously around every corner, scanning for policemen or anyone who looked suspicious. Her body stayed tense, ready to bolt at the slightest movement or shout.

What stopped her cold was the tall figure leaning casually against the wall ahead.