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He doesn't have to speak for me to know he's cursing me in his mind. Calling me a nuisance for the mess I've gotten myself into, blaming me for creating such a huge problem for him. I have the urge to shrink in the face of his stare.
I don't miss this feeling.
"I was starting to think you'd thrown your darling daughter to the wolves!" Laurent shouts from his position behind me.
My father's gaze doesn't leave my face.
He's taking his sweet time descending the steps, no weapon in sight. I'm smart enough to know that he probably has one. What did Alexander say they called him? The butcher? He's ruthless–I know it well.
Right now, though, he just looks annoyed.
"There were other ways to get my attention, Laurent." He finally raises his eyes to Laurent. "Look at what you've done to her face."
My face?
That's his concern? My fucking face?
There's a mocking laugh from Laurent that has embarrassment sneaking up the back of my neck, and heat gathering in my chest from anger. I hate them both.
"You and I both know she's the only way to get your attention," Laurent says.
Again, with that.
My father is at the foot of the stairs now but doesn't take a step further. What's his fucking plan? Laurent has a gun to my head, and he's just sauntering towards us as if he doesn't care what happens.
My stomach grows cold.
He probably doesn't.
"Is that why you sent Lizou to that fucking school? To kill her?" The anger starts to bleed into his expression now. "Why you had my jet shot down? Why you've taken my daughter hostage?" His voice gets louder with each question. "To get my attention? Well, you have it."
Now that he's closer I can see the remnants of that alleged crash on Michel. He's got scars on his face, new ones. The most prominent of which is a sickle-shaped one that stretches from his mouth to his chin. His nose is a bit crooked too. Did he have to have surgery?
"So, what do you want, asshole?" Michel shouts, and then he finally gets his own gun out of his jacket. "You have my fucking attention. What do you want?"
In response to my father revealing his weapon, Laurent shoves his gun harder against my head, triggering another ache. He laughs, and it sounds entirely deranged to my ears.
"I want to see you suffer the way I did."
Tense silence follows his words.
It feels like a truthful admission, the most honest he's been in the hours since he's held me here. There's a sudden chime, and the security cameras power back on. Suddenly, we're back on camera. But neither of the two men in the room shift their focus from each other.
My father doesn't respond to him.
He looks...uncomfortable now, which isn't a look I've seen on him before.
"This doesn't involve Alize," Michel counters.
"Does she even know?"
"Let her go and settle your grouse with me."
Another deranged laugh from Laurent.
"I have to put you through the same pain, Michel." Laurent heaves a heavy sigh. "I do not want to kill her, but I have to. It's the only way to right what you did."
This conversation has grown so cryptic that I don't know what to think.
