‘Heard,’ Lachlan says, lets Blaire help him to his feet.
?
The next day, Lachlan is covered in antiseptic and sterile wrap for the worst of it, but he’ll have sandpaper scars for life.
The entire Estate comes sharply to attention at the arrival of Alistair Penhalyx, whose helicopter lands ten minutes early.
Julian hasn’t spoken a word to him nor mentioned the lie about Mimi.Lachlan hasn’t spoken to him either, only kept watch like always.He’s already contacted Jolene to install new separate access and detection alarms atallentry points of the ventilation shafts, but the damage is done.
Julian, Clara, Lachlan and Blaire wait outside Alistair’s office until called in.The older man has an entourage with him, and he seems to be workingwhilemeeting with them.
Lachlan stays standing but Julian sits when directed.
‘You two leave us,’ Penhalyx dismisses to Clara and Blaire, waiting until they’re gone before finishing his work.‘Now then,’ he says, gaze lifting to his son.They have the same light brown eyes.‘Julian.Tell me why I’m here.’
The kid crosses his arms and shrugs.‘Because I got stuck.’
‘And where did you get stuck, Julian?’
‘Where do you think?’
‘I am told,’ Penhalyx says, rising from the chair and going to the window facing the Estate gardens, ‘that you crawled into the ventilation shafts.’
‘So what?’
‘Lachlan,’ Alistair says calmly.‘Strike my son across the face, please.’
It takes a lot to surprise Lachlan.
This does.
He hesitates, unprepared.
The kid doesn’t move, shows no surprise whatsoever.
He’s glued to the chair.
Lachlan parts his lips to speak, the refusal poised.
‘Section four point seven.Directive Compliance Requirement.“The Protector shall act exclusively in accordance with the Principal’s interests.Moral objection carries no mitigating weight.Non-compliance, including passive non-action, shall constitute direct insubordination and may be treated as breach under the Morality Clause.”Strike my son across the face, Lachlan.Don’t split his lip, please.’
It's been a while since Lachlan had to follow an order that turned his stomach, but he steps forward, raises his hand and carries it out.The blow is nowhere near as hard as it could be, not even as hard as he’s sometimes fantasised about, given the nature of this absolute fucking brat, but it’s a hard smack.He knows it hurts the kid and he’ll never forget the red stain of his own hand on a seventeen-year-old’s face.
Julian accepts the punishment with dull passivity.
‘Good,’ Alistair praises blandly.‘Now, Julian,’ he adds, turning around.‘Show me the damage from your escapade.’
‘No.’
‘Shall I have Lachlan strip you bare before me?’
Lachlan’s not looking at the kid’s face but he’sprayinghe just lifts his tee and shows his father the scrape, which he thankfully does.
Alistair comes around the other side of the desk to investigate fully, bending low, a slight frown between his eyes.
‘It looks shallow,’ he comments.‘Medical informed me they don’t expect it to scar, but his skin was still torn and his blood was shed.’He rises to face Lachlan.Up close, he’s older than he seemed.Wrinkles deep set, skin greying with time.‘Your lack of foresight indirectly caused this.’
Lachlan says, ‘My apologies, sir.’
