Good Girls Kneel

GOOD GIRLS KNEEL

A church. Someone in there will protect me from the armed maniacs who are after me, right?

As I frantically push open the large double doors, the gust of wind extinguishes most of the flickering candle flames. The rain drips from my soaked wedding dress onto the stone floor.

Then I see the priest standing in the dim candlelight, a bloody razor in his hand.

Obviously, I am not the only one who has sins to confess. . .

This is a dark daddy romance.

1

The rain was pelting down even harder against the windows as Bridget stepped out of the spacious dressing room. If I hadn’t had the champagne glass in my hand, I’d have probably put my hands over my mouth just like Jessica.

God, Bri, you look beautiful. Lisa uttered the words with a choked voice.

With a slight smile, Bridget stroked the white wedding dress smooth. Really?

I nodded eagerly. It’s like from a dream. Really breathtaking!

Bridget’s smile widened as she stepped in front of the mirror. She turned sideways and then did a twirl.

I can’t believe that you found the perfect dress on the first try. Jessica shook her head. Her eyes sparkled suspiciously and she kept on blinking as she fought back tears.

Please! Bridget snorted and took her own glass from the low-end table in front of the couch where we bridesmaids sat. None of you are counting the hundreds of hours I spent online making my pre-selections. She raised her glass. To the perfect dress.

Lisa raised her glass too. To the perfect bride, you mean.

We laughed and clinked glasses to the crack of thunder outside. After we all took a sip, we turned inward to our own thoughts for a moment.

For one, I still couldn’t believe I had been in New York for four years. When Bridget announced that her boyfriend Charles had proposed to her and that she had accepted, it had briefly seemed to me that they’d only been together for a few months and that they had met at the first party I attended with my new friends.

Since I’ve found my dress, you know what that means. Bridget gave us a challenging look before clapping her hands. Time for you!

I glanced over my shoulder into the sales room. The saleswoman was advising another bride and wasn’t paying attention to us. I don’t know, I whispered. Don’t we get in trouble if we all try on dresses?

Bridget raised her immaculately plucked eyebrow before walking up to me and showing me the price tag on her dream in white. The shop belongs to us now, so to speak. Besides, we can all behave ourselves. Try on wedding dresses, take a decent selfie, and then I hand her my credit card. I don’t think that will be a problem.

Reluctantly, I followed Lisa and Jessica to the long racks where the wedding dresses hung, each more voluminous than the last. Lisa and Jessica were much more enthusiastic than me. Which was probably mainly due to the fact that the two had also been going steady for a few months and were already dreaming of their own weddings. I was the only one among us fearing commitment.

That’s why I didn’t feel so great trying on overpriced white tulle. I pulled the first dress off the rack, which only cost five-figures, unlike the six on Bridget’s price tag.

But as the daughter of a wealthy senator and future wife of a wealthy heir, money was nothing to worry about.

Not for me either, but that would mean having to talk to my father and I tried to avoid that as much as possible.

I took my handbag into the changing room and stripped off my clothes before making my way through the many layers of fabric so I could put on the dress. Good grief. I was huffing and puffing and even thought for a moment that I might be suffocating as I got the dress half on. My breasts got stuck and I had to reach down into the neckline with both hands until I finally got everything in place. I turned to the mirror and held the fabric together behind my back. It didn’t look bad, but it wasn’t enough for me to have the instant orgasm that Jessica was experiencing in the changing room next door.

Girls! she moaned. I need to get married, too. My dress is perfect!

I pulled the curtain back and Bridget turned to me. Fawn, you look like an angel. Turn around and I’ll help you with the zipper.

Isn’t that good enough?

She looked at me sternly until I submitted with a roll of my eyes. With one big tug, Bridget yanked up the zipper. I could barely breathe for a second as my breasts got pushed up before everything finally slipped into place.

Lisa, meanwhile, had come out. God, Fawn, I hate you. Let me guess, you’re not interested in playing along so you’ve taken the first dress you saw.

The blood rushed to my cheeks. Uh... no, I said, unconvincingly.

Jessica poked her head out. Great. Now I think my dress is stupid again. Fawn, how do you always do that?

I didn’t do anything, I protested.

Bridget brushed my hair forward over my shoulders. I just don’t understand why you don’t have a boyfriend. Take a look at yourself.

Good God. If there is one thing I hated, it was being the center of attention. I was well aware that I fit the classic definition of beauty with my blonde hair and blue eyes, but that didn’t change the fact that I had only ever received unwanted attention in my life, which is why I avoided putting myself too much in the foreground. Being a part of the pack was good enough for me.

My friends didn’t know about my childhood or, the even bigger secret, who my father was. That’s why I always kept my head down and didn’t do social media.

That being said, after seeing how things turned out for my mother, I didn’t really think I needed a man to be happy.

I managed a half-hearted smile. You look fabulous.

With a huff, Lisa crossed her arms. Not as great as you.

Nonsense. I look like a corpse and my hair is hanging down, flopping around. Can we talk about something else? The selfie? Bridget, you wanted to take a selfie.

Yeah. She went into her changing room and came back with her cell phone in hand when the old-fashioned bell over the shop door announced a new customer.

Fawn, a hoarse voice said behind me.

I slowly turned around. Dad?

My father was soaked to the skin, alarmingly pale, and he was pressing a hand against his side under his jacket. Come.

I had so many questions, but I knew my father well enough to know when the situation was absolutely serious. That was instantly clear since he was supposed to be in Las Vegas and he never came to New York because he had a lot of enemies here.

Without offering any explanation to my friends, I followed my dad outside. It was cold and dark out there. Within seconds, I was covered with goosebumps and the dress had been soaked in the rain. I guess I would now have to buy it.

How did you find me?

My father looked at me as if I should know better. I’ve installed a tracker on your phone. You are and will always be my only child, Fawn.

What’s wrong?

I don’t have much time. You have to listen carefully to me.

Okay. I gave myself a bear hug in the hope of warming myself up.

Here. With his free hand, he struggled to pull a USB stick out of the pocket of his jacket. Take this. He handed me the stick.

When he withdrew his fingers, I had red marks on the palm that the rain immediately washed away.

I closed my fist. Dad, you’re scaring me. What the hell’s going on?

Take the stick to Brody Young.

I looked at him incredulously. To Vegas? Should I leave everything behind to take a USB stick to Vegas?

Don’t go by plane. He looked at me intensely. You have to stay under the radar.

I don’t understand any of this. Why?