Page 78 of Something Borrowed

I turn to face the guard who dared to hit me. I’m waiting for my father to tell him he’s fired. To kick him out. To tell him he’s done for daring to touch me.

“Don’t speak to your father like that.” He says, his eyes tracing over my body.

I look him up and down, furious at the audacity of this man.

“Who the hell do you think?—”

“Thank you, Roger.” My father says, grateful because this random asshole just slapped me through the face.

I spin towards my father with an expression of shock on my face.

“If you don’t care what happens to me, then justlet me go.” I demand.

He shakes his head. “You’re wrong sweetheart. I care. I care about how your behavior affects the family name. I care about what people think when they look at you and know that you carry my blood in your veins.”

I am finally beginning to understand.

My father never cared about me as his daughter. Only for what I represented in the public eye. It’s the reason he never accepted me.

It’s the reason he fought me on everything. I am supposed to be a replica of him. A mirror image of his choices and his life.

He will never let me free.

He will never allow me to live my life the way I want to.

Desperation seeps into my pores. I am an animal in a cage, and he is the ring master. Poking me with a stick and demanding I do the tricks he wants to see.

Genuine panic floods me. I can’t stay here. I will never see the light of day again.

Without thinking it through I run.

There is no proper plan to get out of here, but I have to try.

I bolt straight for the open door I dodge the outreached hand of the guard standing closest to me.

Someone behind me cocks their gun.

“Don’t fucking shoot her your idiot.” My father snaps. “Bring her back.”

I hear nothing else because I am half way to the elevator already.

I’ve never run this fast in my life.

My lungs are burning when I reach the silver doors.

Gratitude overwhelms me when I see the elevator is waiting there. I skid into it and slam my hand repeatedly against the G button.

“Close dammit. Please close.” I yell at the doors.

They’re getting closer. Their heavy black boots are loud down the enclosed hallway.

The doors close.

I hold my breath.

Just as the doors slide the last few inches closed their angry faces appear in the gap. But they were too slow. And now I’m free.

I grin as the elevator carries me down to the parking garage again.

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