Read Online You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1) by Georgia le Carre - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Georgia le Carre
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miss you more, because you’ll be off doing different things and I’ll have to come back to this empty flat. I’m warning you now that I’ll be using your perfume and your black dress while you are gone.’
I hug her. ‘You have my permission to blast yourself with my perfume and wear any of my clothes.’
She grins. ‘This might work out all right, after all.’
I laugh. ‘You know I was so sad last night when I thought I’d hurt you and you were mad at me.’
‘You did hurt me and I was mad at you, but it’s OK now. It was my fault. I was being silly; carrying a candle for him all this time when I could clearly see that I was nothing to him. Besides, you thought you were protecting me. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.’
‘No,’ I say sincerely, ‘I wouldn’t willingly hurt you for the world.’
‘Yeah. I know that. I was just jealous. I still am actually.’
‘Are you going to be OK?’
‘Of course. I just have to accept that he doesn’t want me. Maybe it’s all for the best. I should move on.’ She smiles. ‘Yes, I’ll get over it. This is good for me. One day I’ll look back and be glad this happened.’
Stella offers to cancel two of her appointments and come with me to the airport, but I refuse.
‘Saying goodbye to me here will be exactly the same as at Heathrow. Anyway I will be back soon.’
So we say our goodbyes on the street. I turn around to watch her as the taxi moves on. She looks alone and miserable. When the taxi turns the corner I look out of the window blankly. It is a typical gray English afternoon and even though Stella and I complain about it all the time, I feel really sad to leave it. It is hard to sit still in the taxi. My mind is so full of unfamiliar images and thoughts.
It is easier at the airport when I am caught in the procedure of taking a flight, but once I am seated in the plane the anxiety starts again. I don’t sleep during the entire flight. The woman next to me snores like a hog so I put in my earplugs, close my eyes, and think of Daisy. I remember back to our childhood days when she used to beg me to make daisy necklaces for her. They were so precious to her she would wear them even when they were shriveled, brown and ugly.
I guess even then she was already so different than me. ‘Does the grass feel pain when we walk on them?’ she asked my mother when she was three years old. My mother used to roll her eyes and call her Silly Billy every time she came up with one of her totally odd questions.
When she was six she announced that she was becoming a vegetarian. She was no longer going to eat anything with a face. That was until she found out about the experiment with the woman and the cabbage. It’s the one where plants are hooked up to machines that record their electrical emissions. A woman is then told to go into the room and violently butcher a cabbage.
The scientists notice the plant responds by showing distress, by increased and frantic electrical activity. They conclude that plants have the ability to understand violence and exhibit fear. A week later the same woman is told to walk into the room with a knife and though she does nothing this time, the plants mark her arrival with increased activity.
After my sister read that she became a fruitarian. Sometimes she will sit for hours outside not reading or listening to music, or talking to someone on the phone, but in her lingo just ‘being’. To think of such a gentle creature being abducted and harmed makes my blood boil, and I jump up suddenly waking the woman beside who mutters with irritation and goes right back to sleep.
I walk up and down the aisle restlessly until I have calmed myself by thinking that maybe they have already found her. Maybe by the time I get off the plane my mom will have good news for me.
My mother comes to pick me up from the airport. One look at her face and I know that she has nothing new to tell me. She looks pale and frightened. I hug her
I hug her. ‘You have my permission to blast yourself with my perfume and wear any of my clothes.’
She grins. ‘This might work out all right, after all.’
I laugh. ‘You know I was so sad last night when I thought I’d hurt you and you were mad at me.’
‘You did hurt me and I was mad at you, but it’s OK now. It was my fault. I was being silly; carrying a candle for him all this time when I could clearly see that I was nothing to him. Besides, you thought you were protecting me. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.’
‘No,’ I say sincerely, ‘I wouldn’t willingly hurt you for the world.’
‘Yeah. I know that. I was just jealous. I still am actually.’
‘Are you going to be OK?’
‘Of course. I just have to accept that he doesn’t want me. Maybe it’s all for the best. I should move on.’ She smiles. ‘Yes, I’ll get over it. This is good for me. One day I’ll look back and be glad this happened.’
Stella offers to cancel two of her appointments and come with me to the airport, but I refuse.
‘Saying goodbye to me here will be exactly the same as at Heathrow. Anyway I will be back soon.’
So we say our goodbyes on the street. I turn around to watch her as the taxi moves on. She looks alone and miserable. When the taxi turns the corner I look out of the window blankly. It is a typical gray English afternoon and even though Stella and I complain about it all the time, I feel really sad to leave it. It is hard to sit still in the taxi. My mind is so full of unfamiliar images and thoughts.
It is easier at the airport when I am caught in the procedure of taking a flight, but once I am seated in the plane the anxiety starts again. I don’t sleep during the entire flight. The woman next to me snores like a hog so I put in my earplugs, close my eyes, and think of Daisy. I remember back to our childhood days when she used to beg me to make daisy necklaces for her. They were so precious to her she would wear them even when they were shriveled, brown and ugly.
I guess even then she was already so different than me. ‘Does the grass feel pain when we walk on them?’ she asked my mother when she was three years old. My mother used to roll her eyes and call her Silly Billy every time she came up with one of her totally odd questions.
When she was six she announced that she was becoming a vegetarian. She was no longer going to eat anything with a face. That was until she found out about the experiment with the woman and the cabbage. It’s the one where plants are hooked up to machines that record their electrical emissions. A woman is then told to go into the room and violently butcher a cabbage.
The scientists notice the plant responds by showing distress, by increased and frantic electrical activity. They conclude that plants have the ability to understand violence and exhibit fear. A week later the same woman is told to walk into the room with a knife and though she does nothing this time, the plants mark her arrival with increased activity.
After my sister read that she became a fruitarian. Sometimes she will sit for hours outside not reading or listening to music, or talking to someone on the phone, but in her lingo just ‘being’. To think of such a gentle creature being abducted and harmed makes my blood boil, and I jump up suddenly waking the woman beside who mutters with irritation and goes right back to sleep.
I walk up and down the aisle restlessly until I have calmed myself by thinking that maybe they have already found her. Maybe by the time I get off the plane my mom will have good news for me.
My mother comes to pick me up from the airport. One look at her face and I know that she has nothing new to tell me. She looks pale and frightened. I hug her
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