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Once we were clear of the dining room, we were free to talk more easily.
"Will your father be seeing Chloe and Zachary too?"
"His message didn't say, but I presume so," I said. "Is not going to come all this way and not at least see Chloe."
"That would be a punch in the guts to Zachary." Slade didn't look particularly sympathetic. He didn't seem to buy what Zachary said about the teddy bears, or much of anything Chloe said.
If I thought I didn't trust easily, I was nothing compared to him. That wasn't too surprising given his childhood. Who would you trust if you were forced to kill your own father at the age of twelve? He was the kind of guy who formed his loyalties and didn't budge.
"My father isn't particularly sentimental." I eyed a couple of students who hurried to get out of my way as I walked down the corridor. They did that everywhere I went. If I didn't put fear into them, my last name would.
"He won't care if he hurts any of our feelings."
"I'm starting to think I should get my belt before we go and meet him," Slade said.
"If we had time, I'd say you should," I said. "He'll be here in two minutes. My father is many things, including punctual." If anything, he was more likely to be early than late.
Slade grabbed my wrist and pulled me to a stop.
"I'm sure my father won't do anything to warrant you getting your belt—" I started to say.
"This isn't about the belt," he said. "This is about you running the family someday. At some point, you need to teach everyone who is in charge. That includes your father."
I frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, what's the hurry?" he said lightly. "It won't kill your father to wait for you. What's he going to do about it? Have you killed?"
"No, but he might have you killed if he realises this is your idea." I stepped closer to him and looked up into his eyes. I could happily drown in them. If I wasn't careful, I was going to fall for him and I was going to fall hard. That terrified me almost as much as any dark, silent room. Love made people vulnerable and I couldn't afford to be vulnerable.
On the other hand, sometimes love made people stronger. It was a fine fucking line I didn’t dare to cross. Not yet anyway.
"I'd prefer not to give him an excuse," I added. If my father killed Slade, I wouldn't forgive him. What would I do?
How would it feel to wrap Slade’s belt around my father’s neck and pull it tight? He'd fix his gaze on mine and watch with widening eyes as the air was cut off from his lungs. His body would slump—
I shook my head slightly. He better not give me a reason to act on those thoughts. They were far too compelling.
"I'm not that easy to kill," Slade said easily. "But you know I'm right. If you come running every time he crooks a finger, then he's going to keep doing it. He's going to know he's the boss. Without doubt, he's waiting for you to take the initiative. To stand up to him and show him you're ready to be the boss." He tilted his head slightly, his gaze on my face as his words sank in.
I swallowed hard. The only thing in this world I was afraid of was my father. Specifically what he might do to me if I didn't live up to his high expectations. He wouldn't kill me, but he could do a whole lot worse than that. Worse than choosing Chloe over me. Worse than choosing Zachary over either of us.
If I failed him, he could lock me in the basement and leave me to rot. Or he could… A whirlpool of other horrible things tumbled around in my brain.
Along with that came the realisation Slade was right. If I didn't stand up to my father, he would never respect me enough to choose me to take his place. That was absolutely something he would be waiting for me to do.
"It wouldn't hurt to keep him waiting for a couple of minutes," I said slowly.
"Or longer." Slade looked at me meaningfully.
I licked my lips. "Fine. A few minutes, but he's going to be pissed off."
Slade smiled. "Good. No one ever made their dreams come true without stirring the pot and pissing a few people off. That's what makes people memorable. Not that anyone would dare to suggest you're forgettable."
"They better fucking not," I growled. I had no intention of being forgotten by anyone. That would be worse than being underestimated.
"Come on. Let's walk slowly to the front of the Academy." He let my wrist go and stepped back.
Having an intense conversation in the corridor was one thing, flaunting the fact we were involved with each other, was another. The fact we were fucking was not a secret, but Brutham preferred we exercise some measure of discretion.
