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"You would kill me?"
"If you push me far enough. It would be a shame, though," Michel muses. "I invested so much to ensure you were raised properly. That's the only reason I haven't snapped your neck for all the pointless drivel that comes out of your mouth." His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and there’s a tick in his jaw. “I refuse to let you grow up into a version of Lilou. This is the only way for you, mon trésor. This is the way it has to be.”
He turns the car off the highway and into a side road that leads to the airport. Out on the tarmac is a singular jet. It's huge and painted all black. The door is open, the air stairs deployed.
My life flashes before my eyes.
This is the end of everything I know.
I don't even have my phone to send a goodbye text.
My eyes burn with tears.
I don't want to give up.
I'm not defeated.
But I feel fucking hopeless at this point.
The car screeches to a halt a few feet from the bottom of the stairs. My father kills the engine, and then he rounds the vehicle. Grabbing me by my forearm, he yanks me out of the back seat.
I twist my ankle in the process.
"I don't want to go with you!" I yell, holding on the door. "Let me go!"
My father heaves an impatient sigh. I expect him to hit me, to knock me out again like he did in Laurent's basement. But nothing happens.
When I look up, his attention is fixed elsewhere.
I twist my head, following his line of sight.
A pair of headlights are speeding toward us.
The look on my father's face tells me that the intrusion is unexpected. His grip on me grows harsher and he yanks me so forcefully I scrape my shins on the tarmac.
"Come on," he hisses. "We need to go."
I can't fight him off, but I can slow him down.
There's a chance that whoever's approaching the airport might just be a random person, but there's also a chance they could help me. At this point, I don't care who it is. They could call the cops, for all I care.
I just need to get away from him.
If I get help, I can find Alex.
And if I find him, I'll be fine.
There's renewed urgency in my father's movements as he tries to drag me toward the plane. Now that I've seen the car speeding toward us, I'm making it as difficult for him as I can.
I'm kicking, I'm biting.
I won't go down without a fight.
If I set foot on that plane. It's over.
But despite my best efforts, we're still moving toward the jet.
"We need to be in the air,now!" My father roars in the direction of the plane. He's dragging me up the steps. "Get this plane off the ground."
