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26
Logan
One of the men goes down, and the other spins on his heel, startled at the way his friend fell to the ground. He lifts his hands in surrender, but I don’t feel like showing mercy as my finger presses the trigger. Another bullet empties from my gun, hitting him right between the eyes. Looks like target practice paid off.
It’s only when I reach the middle of the staircase that I see him. My father stares at me long and hard. Disappointment and disapproval shine in his dark eyes. The only difference between now and my younger years when that look would hurt me is I no longer give a shit about him.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” My voice is low, menacing, as I move closer to him. But Herbert Oakridge doesn’t cower in front of me. No. His son, now a man who no longer answers to him, doesn’t scare him because he knows his life is over.
“I thought I’d see how long you both can last if you’re given the type of woman you like,” he smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in satisfaction. My gaze darts to Vera. She’s not moving. Her hands are clasped across her chest. She looks so peaceful as if nothing can hurt her.
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?” I ask again, turning my attention back to my father.
His expression doesn’t help the rage coursing through me. I want to shoot him, to see how well he does with a bullet straight through the heart, but I can’t do anything until I know how to fix her.
“You’ll know soon enough, son,” he tells me easily. The tension in my shoulders tightens. “If you put down that gun, I’ll give you my terms.”
“Terms? This isn’t some fucking game,” I bite out, my finger still poised on the trigger. I want nothing more than to pull it, to show him I’m in charge, but I don’t because I’m not sure what he’s done to Vera. The asshole knows I won’t do shit to put her in harm’s way, and that only angers me more.
A loud bang from downstairs captures my attention. I want to move, I know I should, but instead, I stay focused on my father. He doesn’t seem at all perturbed by the fact that I have a gun pointed at him.
Seconds pass before I speak again. “You have your team of assholes coming in here to kill me?”
“I don’t want to kill you, son,” he tells me as he settles in the armchair overlooking Vera’s sleeping form. “I want to prove to you that you’re just like me, son. She’ll never accept you for who you are.” He gestures with his chin, pointing at the beauty in a deep slumber. I want to go to her to make sure she’s still alive, but I can’t move because I feel cold metal against the back of my head.
“Then why is there a man pointing a weapon at me?” I challenge him, needing to know the truth. “Because from where I’m standing, his finger can slip, and I won’t be in your way anymore.”
“Why are you so convinced I’d like you dead?”
“Because I took her, I hid her away, and you want her for yourself. You signed the agreement, forcing her father, your longtime friend, to give his only daughter to you.” My voice is chilled, ice dripping from every word, because I can’t believe the man who I’m looking at is even related to me. Yes, we may share similar features, but the evil so clear in his dark eyes has nothing on me.
He smiles, the action slow, intentional, because nothing my father does hasn’t been thought through. That’s what he taught me all those years ago. You must be calculated if you want to make your enemies fear you.
I watch his movements, his one leg crossing over the other. He steeples his fingers under his chin, and he regards me with cool aloofness that makes him seem almost mechanical. That’s who my father is, an uncaring monster. The more I look at him, the more I realize I’m nothing like him.
Vera was right. I may be slightly broken, but I am not an evil monster like the man who raised me. “Tell me,” I say finally. I’ve had enough games. It’s time to walk out, kill all the men he’s brought into my home, or be killed. The latter doesn’t sound like an option to me, because the moment I take my last breath, he’ll claim Vera. And that’s the last thing I want or need.
“I want to prove to you that you’re no good for her,” he tells me easily. “You’re so far gone you don’t see it. I chose to take her as mine because I knew that you’d never be able to give her the life she should have.”
