“Pardon?”
I take in a deep breath, then step back, looking at him through thinly veiled hatred in my eyes. My hand shakes a little, then I force myself to straighten up, holding the gun tightly in my hand.
“I’m not here to ask you to explain yourself.”
He blinks, taken aback. “You’re not?”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. There’s not a single explanation that’s even half-good to justify what you’ve done to me. So, no. I don’t care about closure, that would be more for you than for me. What I care about is revenge, daddy dearest. And I’m starting with you. Nelson is Noelle’s to kill, but once I’m done with you, I’ll gostraight to Paul.”
“You can’t kill Paul.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Who said anything about killing him? My plans for him are too great. Killing him wouldn’t bring me the satisfaction of seeing him crumble, to be reduced down to a fucking pest, because that’s what he deserves.”
“What are you going to do?”
Genuine panic is in his voice, and that angers me even more. Where was all of that for me? Where was all of that when I was in prison, struggling to survive? Where was any single emotion, worry, concern, or even pity when I was abused by his friends, all because he delivered me on a silver platter to them?
“That’s none of your concern now, is it?”
“Wait, Blair—”
“Do not say my name,” I cut him off, my voice loud. “You do not have the privilege of addressing me at all. I’ll do all the talking. I’ll start with you, Alexander. Then, I’ll go after your wife, then after your son.”
His eyes widen, face paling. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“That wouldn’t make you any better than me.”
“I never claimed to be better than you, anyway. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, does it? But I would like to think I’m not as evil as you. When I kill your wife, I will do it quickly. She won’t suffer much.”
He swallows, then his mouth opens, but I speak before he gets the chance to.
“I’m giving you one chance to tell me what you intended to do with Daisy.”
“How do you—”
“Answer me!”
He flinches when I yell, and I raise the gun, aiming to hit him between his eyes. He struggles against the chains that arewrapped around his body, but it’s useless. Arlo tied them tightly enough that he barely gets any air in.
“Paul wanted to keep her to himself. He was going to wait until she was a bit older.”
The nauseating feeling resurfaces, and I swallow down bile. I’m grateful to whatever God may exist that they haven’t touched the child yet, but knowing that they were going to take her, then likely keep her isolated until they can do all of the things they’ve done to me, makes me sick to my stomach.
“Why this girl specifically?”
“Her parents died in a car crash. They had something on Paul, and that would’ve been his last revenge on them, ruining their precious daughter.”
“Good thing I won’t let any of you touch her.”
He laughs. “How will you stop it, though? You couldn’t even stop him from doing it to you.”
My body’s quicker than my mind. My hand rises, and I backhand him with all my might. His head snaps to the side; the sound of my hand connecting to his cheek echoes in the room. My breathing is heavy, eyes filled with rage.
“You know, I’m no expert in torture.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d be.”
