"You can't leave." He sits back in his chair with a sigh. "It simply isn't safe."
"Okay," I start tentatively, but evenIcan hear the note of annoyance and frustration in my tone. "I understand your concerns, but?—"
My voice is rising and I stop to try to get control of it.
He's been so pushy about trying to convince me to stay or move to one of his more private properties in the States. I should have anticipated this. But to blatantly act like there wasn't a concrete plan for me to fly home today is on another level, and anyone, even perfect Delilah De La Rosa, would be angry about it.
"Like I said," I start again, more slowly, more calmly. "I'm not willing to completely abandon my life. I have classes. Friends. A job."
"Trivial things compared to family, don't you think?"
He's being completely serious, I can see it in his eyes. He's already decided.
And that's what's different about him. It's not something physical at all. It's the bad feeling in my stomach and the way I'm mentally mapping the exits.
He may look the same on the outside, but something has shifted on the inside. He isn't playing Daddy Warbucks anymore. He's someone else, and I should've fucking seen him coming.
I wet my dry lips and swallow. I need to be certain here about what's going on—whyhe's doing this.
"So we're clear, there is no return trip home?"
He levels me with an unwavering stare, leaning over the table. "You are home,Delilah.And I intend to keep you close."
I stand up and turn for the door, but there are two men in front of it. They're in full tac gear, armed, and stone-faced. I recognize one from the files in Ambrose's cabinet. He's ex-military. They call him Coyote.
I back up and scan the office, but the only other exit point is a window behind Ambrose's desk, and the only place it leads is a hundred feet down into craggy rock and sea.
Think, Aurora.Think.
But I can't make sense of this. Why? Why is he doing this?
Behind me, Ambrose's chair scrapes backward. "I know you must be feeling…a certain wayat the moment, but there's no reason to be upset. I'm only trying to do what's best for you as your father. You understand, don't you?"
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as he crowds me from behind.
When I turn to face him, I stand as tall as I'm able to and sling my pack over my shoulder. "Tell them to move."
For three heartbeats, he looks down his nose at me, composed and sure, and on the fourth, his lips split into something that's not quite a smile, but more a mimicry of one.
Alarm bells ring in my ears, and I lurch back as the sound leaves his mouth. It comes all at once. Loud and echoing in the silence of his office. Ambroselaughsat me.Laughsso hard his face turns red, and he can barely breathe as he holds his sides like the force of it physically pains him.
My teeth creak from the pressure of clamping them so tightly together.
What the fuck is happening right now? I've seen mental breakdowns—I've fucking had one or two myself—but this?
This doesn't seem like that.
This isn't a breakdown, it'shim…breaking free.
The sound of his laughter quiets, but it's already burrowed into my chest and made a nest of dread there.
"Oh god," he pants, wiping a tear from his eye. "Aurora…"
He gives me a dubious look while I calculate my odds of survival if I jump out that fucking window. Or my chances of outrunning two men over six feet tallifI can get past them.
"My sweet, innocent,lyingdaughter."
I freeze.
