Page 91 of Snitches and Serpents

I had no idea that this is what Elle grew up with. This enormous pressure to always be perfect in all things. This asshole of a father who cares more about his image than the welfare of his own daughter.

Just a few days ago, I mocked Elle for being a spoiled rich girl who has never known what it’s like to feel trapped. What it’s like to grow up feeling like you’re being crushed underneath a mountain of pressure. And all that time, she was carrying around this.

Guilt and regret twist inside me.

Fuck.

Growing up like that, she must have felt just as trapped as I did. Must still feel just as trapped as I do. But for different reasons.

How the hell am I supposed to hate her now?

31

ELLE

My heart patters nervously as I walk up to the door. But I’m committed now. I need to do this. After I managed to yet again avoid expulsion, Tristan is no doubt going to come for me even harder. And I need protection. Which means that I need to prove to John that I’m worth his investment.

The metal door to Fighter’s World looms before me. I pause with my hand on the handle and draw in a bracing breath. I’m not a member of this gym, but this time, I’m at least dressed in my workout clothes so that I will blend in better. And I’m hoping that that, combined with a confident stride, will fool people into thinking that I belong here.

After giving myself a determined nod, I pull the door open and stride in as if I know exactly where I’m going.

My gaze sweeps across the room as I quickly take in the layout to figure out where it is, in fact, that I’m going.

The space before me is one massive room. A variety of punching bags and other equipment line the walls while the floor space in the middle is taken up by a whole bunch of fight cages. They’re round, or maybe octagonal, with walls made of chain-link fence. And the floor inside the cages appears to be made of a, at least somewhat, padded material.

Just as I guessed from the outside earlier, there is a type of one-way mirror film on the windows, because from in here, I can see through them clearly. Afternoon sunlight shines in, illuminating the room without the need for having the lights turned on.

I scan the people in the gym while I walk towards a random piece of equipment along the wall. I already know that Tristan isn’t here right now. It’s why I chose to come here now, after all. He would recognize me immediately, and I need to be able to discreetly check out this place to see if there is anything of interest that I can report to John.

My pulse flutters nervously when I finish scanning the room and realize that the only people in here are men. I quicken my step. Since I will stand out by being the only woman here, I will need to finish this before people start taking notice of me.

There are some rooms at the back of the gym. I set course towards them.

I keep my back straight and my chin raised as I stride across the room, but it is taking everything I have to fake that confidence right now. Because I still haven’t recovered from the surprise visit from my dad a few days ago.

Dread twists inside me at just the memory of it.

It’s insane how one person can have so much power.

In the past few weeks, I had finally started to feel strong and free in a way that I never had before. Even despite all the things that Tristan has done to me. Or rather, because of them. Because of him.

I never feel like I need to pretend with him. I never have to put on a mask of perfection. I can just be me. And I can handle all of the insane things he throws at me. These past weeks with him have pushed me so far out of my restrictive little box that I don’t think I will ever be able to fit inside it again.

I’m done pretending. I’m done being the mayor’s perfect daughter. I am my own person.

Or so I thought.

I was feeling so free and strong and determined… And all it took to shatter it was one visit from my dad.

One look at his disappointed face was enough to transform me back into my old self. The girl who is desperate to prove that she can live up to everyone’s expectations. The one who bends over backwards and twists herself into knots to fit into the restrictive mold created for her.

I’m sorry. I promise that I will do better from now on.

Fury streaks through me like lightning. I hate myself for saying those words. I shouldn’t have apologized. I should’ve told him to fuck off.

But when he looked at me like that, when he berated me like that, I suddenly felt like I was ten years old again and was being admonished for receiving my first B on a test. All I wanted to do was to burst into tears and then do everything I could to make him proud of me again.

It’s pathetic.

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