And if my timeline is correct, I only have a couple days to do it before Aislyn is shipped off to wherever they’ve promised someone a girl.
Right.That means I don’t have time to be sitting out here playing the guessing game.I leave the bike where it is and walk to the gates, pushing them open like I still own the place.I know how I look as I’m walking up the driveway: like I know exactly what I’m doing, and like I don’t have a doubt in the world.
It’s not true.But no one else needs to know that.The only thing they need to know is that I’m back, and I want back in.Actually, I only need one person to think that.
My father.
Because if I can go in there and convince him that I’m on his side–that I’m home and want to come back into the family–I might be able to get information the easy way.And that will mean getting to Aislyn more quickly.
I can do it, I assure myself.I can act like his friend for an hour.Maybe two.Especially if it means getting what I want.
And then afterward, I’ll do the other thing I came down here for.
Mission 1: Save the girls.
Mission 2: Take my father down, and bury him in a grave no one will ever fucking find.
***
He’s waiting for me at the top of the steps that lead up to the front door, a smirk on his mouth and his shirt unbuttoned at the top, like he was just sitting down for dinner.All casual and relaxed, his hands hanging open at his sides and his stance easy.
All a lie.
But I force my shoulders down and a smile onto my face, to match his attitude.I even make that smile as friendly as possible.I can do this.I can play nice.For a little.
“Dad,” I say, reaching for bashful and charming.
“Daughter.”The word is friendly but cautious, as if he’s not sure he can believe what his eyes are telling him right now.
Smart.
“Did you walk here?Because I would have sent a car for you.”
It takes me no time flat to see that statement for what it is.Bait.He wants to know why I’m in town and whether I’m here with anyone else.Where I’m staying.Whose side I’m on.
“I’ve got a bike at the front gate,” I say, stepping up the stairs and coming to a stop facing him.“But I wanted a walk before I saw you.”
His face grows even more cautious.“Why?”
Time to lie, Brooks.
“Because the last time I saw you it didn’t go well, and I wanted to make sure this time was better.”I say it without my voice cracking, which is a feat of strength unto itself, and without rolling my eyes at the lie.
Also a miracle.
He considers that for a moment, staring into my eyes and waiting for me to break, and I hold eye contact and tip my chin up, daring him to question my motives.I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn’t know how long I’ve been in town or why I’m here.If he did, he’d already be so angry he wouldn’t speak to me.
Thank you, Lucien,I think, glad for the first time that he’s able to move through the city like smoke, leaving very little evidence behind him.Evidently when I’m with him, I’m hidden in that smoke, and that almost makes being around him worthwhile.
Almost.
“Dinner?”he suddenly asks.“I was just sitting down for steak.”
I almost laugh.That was a whole lot easier than I expected it to be.The fact that he didn’t take one look at me and kick me out is a miracle.After all, the last time we were here I told him I was going to kill him.
To be fair, he’d just refused to give me men to save my friends, so I had a good reason.It was why I went to Lucien in the first place–though ‘going’ to Lucien wasn’t exactly how it happened.I’d been on my way there, sure, but I was kidnapped first, by Lucien’s second-in-command and at Lucien’s bidding.Camille and I found ourselves in the catacombs, trapped with a group of Boudreaux men, when a group of Landry men attacked us.
I never found out why they attacked, and suddenly I’m not so sure of my father’s welcome.The men who came after us in the catacombs worked for my father, and if Lucien and his men hadn’t protected us, Camille and I would both be dead right now.
