Page 7 of His Collateral Wife

When I look into my father's eyes again, the only thing I see all of a sudden are my cats, but it isn't God who's making me remember them.

(Don't do it, Eden.)

The spirit is willing, but my flesh is just too weak, and even then---

Even then I knew a day would come when I'd regret what I was about to do---

But even so, I still hear myself whisper, "No."

Because I, too, wanted vengeance.

"I can't do it."

And I have it the moment the penny drops.

No, I won't kill his enemy for him.

I turn away just as my father starts shaking in impotent rage.

I can feel him staring at my back as his enemy's men lead me out of his room, and I know he's already furiously busy thinking up ways to torture and kill me, for daring to disobey him.

But because my father is no idiot...

I know he'll bide his time and hope that I change my mind.

It's why he's survived this long.

He has never lacked patience. He's always been the type to stand back and watch, and most times, it works. Fear would get the better of his prey, and they'd end up doing whatever he wanted.

Not this time, though.

Or ever again.

Because even if he does make good on his threat, so what?

I'm more than ready to meet my God, and death is the only thing that's standing in my way.

So feel free to do your worst, Father.

But for now, I need to live.

Why though, God?

The reason I'm alive still escapes me, but the thought of questioning His decision doesn't even cross my mind. There's still something I have to do in this world apparently, and whatever it is requires swapping one prison for another.

The men in front of me come to a stop when we reach the front door. All of them have balaclavas over their faces to hide their identities, but figuring out who's in charge is a no-brainer.

I've seen him in action earlier. All he does is nod or gesture, and the rest of them follow like clockwork. And so when Mr. Stranger-in-Charge turns to me, I have to resist the oddest urge to click my heels and salute.

Sir, yes, sir!

"Is there anything you'd like to take with you before we leave?"

The question completely catches me off guard, and my mood instantly switches from hysterically playful to uneasy and wary.

"Or perhaps you have someone whom you would like to go with you?"

Yeah, right.

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