Severed Ties

Needle in a Haystack

Cameron

It had been hours since I had been pulled from Alara's cell, and I had been shoved into a room that wasn't the one that I had woken up in, this one was furnished and looked like a genuine bedroom, but I didn't miss how everything was bolted to the ground, to ensure that I couldn't use any of them as a weapon.

Smart.

They knew how deadly I could be even with a scarp of loose wood, and they weren't going to take any chances. 

Dane had thrown a plastic coated suit at me, with a pair of dress shoes, I recognised the suit immediately. It was my father's, a deep onyx black that shone, it wasn't a matt material more of an undulating colour when it caught the light like it was alive, an oil spill rather than the night sky sort of black. 

I had seen pictures, of my parent's wedding, he wore this very suit, with a white pocket square the only difference in what had been given to me was that the pocket square was red, a deep blood red. And I laughed at the irony, it was no mere coincidence I guess my father just wanted to make sure I knew exactly what this marriage was built upon, blood and diamonds.

I thought of my mother, whether she knew about anything that was happening, I had deluded myself into believing that my father loved my mother, it was merely a transaction to him, but I knew she had fallen in love with him, after so long being trapped in a relationship it was only natural to warm to that person. And there were times when I could trick myself into thinking that father had glanced at mother with a little less malice than he usually did. There was no denying that my mother was a beautiful woman and even if my father did not love her, there was lust in his eyes during the wedding photos and videos. And I knew that tiny bit of emotion directed to my mother made her stay, made her convince herself that maybe one day he could love her, but that certain type of emotion and transform it into something pure. 

That's why when I was told about my marriage to Alara, I vowed to myself I would never treat her how my father treated my mother, even if I could not love her, I would make clear to her that I would protect her, that I wouldn't mistreat her, that she would be safe. And a whole lot of good that plan was. It ended with me falling hard and fast for her, for wanting to do more than just protect her, I wanted her to be the happiest person in the world, and have all the freedoms that I knew as a kid growing up in the gang world she would have been deprived of in her childhood. 

I wanted to give her the perfect everything, before everything went to shit I had talked to Leo about how I could propose again, in a better way, maybe even actually getting down on one knee for my tune had changed from the arrogance of I bend for no one.

As I pulled on the suit I noticed another difference between my father's wedding suit and this one, the shirt wasn't white like his, it was black. And strangely unlike the rest of the suit it hadn't been pressed or ironed properly, that was when I realised that not only was there a black shirt there was a white one. The white one was pressed and clearly went with the suit, it was by the same manufacturer and was definitely my father's, the black one on the other hand tucked beneath the blazer and waistcoat, was crumpled and torn, it was then I realised that it was the very same shirt I had worn on the day of the Wolfsbane ball, the shirt that Alara had chosen for me. 

But how was it here?

And importantly why was it here?

I only had a limited amount of time to change before Dane barged his way in, I needed to hide this shirt, so as quickly as possibly I shucked off my clothing and slipped into the suit, wearing the white shirt instead of the black one, and expertly tying my tie and pressing the pocket square into it's designated place.