Having Fayth

living my best life

Fayth

The stench of expensive cigars and whiskey hang in the air as the heavy wooden door shuts with a soft click behind us. Axel's father sits behind his desk looking every bit the tyrannical leader he is. His fingers tented together under his chin; elbows perched upon his desk. The look in his eyes while they glide over my body, and he openly assesses my value has my stomach revolting in disgust.

A younger version of myself would hide quaking in her boots at the grotesque way he appraises me, however that girl is nowhere to be found. For the millionth time, it seems, I'm unsure if I should be happy or scared of that fact. Do I have no drive for self-perseverance? Do I no longer value the breath that fills my lungs? The answer to that depends on the day, the moment really. It seems more and more I fine my thoughts on the topic to be warring inside my head. One part would welcome death, but the other chants and screams that death is not acceptable until my soul is blackened, and hands soaked in crimson. Only then may the devil drag me happily down to hell.

Squaring my shoulders as Axel opens his mouth to address his father, I pull as much of my control to my center as I can. My nails bite into the palms of my hands while I steady my breath. Mr. Vaughn gives me the same feeling a trail of ants marching along your flesh may. It's annoying as fuck and never fails to piss me off even in our very limited interactions.

His hand shoots up before a sound escapes Axel's lips telling us both silently to hold our tongues or he would very possibly rip them from our mouths. The action further sparks the embers in my blood. Though, it's not at all surprising to me anymore. Everything appears to get under my skin these days. Disrespectful abusive fathers, just happen to do it the best, when my loving angel of a father lies in the ground feeding the worms and insects.

"Sit," he indicated toward the chair in front of his desk closer to me. Grinding my teeth at his tone, I turn to find my spot and watch as Axel is paused in his tracks by a grumbled sound in the back of his father's throat. "I do not believe you were requested for this meeting," Mr. Vaughn's voice comes out a sinister hiss that creeps through my ears and slithers down my spine wrapping around the base and threatens to squeeze the last drop of fear I have residing somewhere deep in the marrow of my bones. Funnily enough, I don't think that drop even survived. For all I know, it was expelled with the countless days of crying and repeated retching into the porcelain bowl.

"Father,-" He started but again was halted by the razorblades that dripped from the forked tongue of the serpent before him. "I did not studder, boy. Your plaything will be just fine without your presence. If not, she wasn't worth it in the first place. Now scram before I make a snap judgment at the base of her throat and have you clean up what will remain of her body."

I can't even bring myself to flinch at his threats. Half of my days I wish he would. The other half I'm left feeling somewhere between empty and rage. His threat sounds like it could be the answer to a prayer, if I still prayed to anyone. It's kind of hard to believe in heaven when you're living in hell. Murky at best to have faith in a higher being when you plan to do something that would surely have you deemed too stained to be within his presents in the first place. I have to fight the urge to giggle at my internal thoughts. I surely must have lost it. Who in their right mind would find amusement in the loss of their faith and promised damnation? That's it. I'm insane, I reason with myself.

Axel swallowed hard staring back into the cold dead eyes of his sire. The growl that accompanied his voice is one of deadly promise. "Not one hair will be harmed on her head, father or it will be your throat that bleeds at her feet. I promise you that."

Wow, did Axel grow a pair? A faint smirk lines my lips as I look between the two men. I don't know the full extent of the abuse his father has inflicted on him, but I've seen the scars and heard enough to piece together that Mr. Vaughn is nothing short of a sadistic, cruel man. And Axel has always wanted his approval. Well, maybe not so much now. I've seen him pulling further away from the man lately. I don't know what has pushed him to this state, but it brings me a secret bit of joy to watch him stand up to his father, even if it is for a needless reason. No one would care if something happened to me, but it's a nice thought that maybe he would think about avenging my loss.

Father and son stand frozen, fixated on each other as my heart warns to gallop out of my chest. Sick and twisted is the only way to describe what I feel in the midst of the tension exuding from this room. It flows over my body like a warm winters coat and bathes me in a rush of anticipation. I have to fight to remove my nails from the arm rest and fold them neatly upon my lap.

Clearing my throat, I make a show of sitting back calmly, crossing one leg over the other and relax my arms to once again rest upon the arms of the chair. "I'll be fine, Ax. You worry too much. Your father will not touch me. Isn't that right Mr. Vaughn?" Both set of eyes turn toward me. One looks on incredulously the other with open curiosity.

With a nod from his father, Axel grips my jaw tipping my head back and lays a bruising kiss upon my lips. "I'll be just outside if you need me," he said before pulling away. "I won't," I respond with a smirk he returned. He knows I'll be fine. I don't understand why he worries so much.

His father sits back in his chair almost a mirror image of my position which begs for a giggle to come forth, but I swallow it before it can make an appearance. No need to be a twat just because the dog has agreed not to bite. An image of a mad mange riddled dog frothing at the mouth crosses my mind and somehow it seems fitting for the man I'm seated before.

"Are you not scared?" he questions in a curious tone.

I gaze into his eyes while they shine with mirth and feel my back straighten as I exude the power I have learned is deep within me. I will not show him the broken girl who cries for her father. Not the quiet kindness I once showed others. No, he will only see what I want him to, the rage and determination of a monster. A future queen that is dying to set the scales back to balance and rip apart the corruption with her bare teeth.

"Why would I fear a man who has shown me every kindness since my father's passing?" I ask forcing the sweet serenity that once came so easily in the lit of my voice and watch while something short of pure giddiness flashes behind his eyes. The look unsettling and I find myself having to switch tactics. "What was it you needed to see me for?"

His smile takes on a wicked curve causing me to worry what I may have just done by asking a simple question.

"You have heard of the trials you must be put through, I'm sure." He states as if he's waiting for me to flinch, but the joke is on him. I haven't felt much since my father passed. Whatever he has up his sleeve, I'm ready for it.

Glancing down at my nails in a bord fashion, I respond on a sigh "I have."

His smile deepens before he speaks again, "Good. I hope you are up to the tasks at hand. I wouldn't want to have to put a bullet in your head, or worse, end my only son." His chuckle at the end is dark and creeps through my blood causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end.

I quark an eyebrow as he gains my attention. Smiling back, I give a shake of my head "That would be quite a shame. And here I was living my best life." My tone must not have matched my smile as he raised a brow and studied me harder.

"I assure you" I start leaning forward, "your son will not meet his end by your hands and my last breath, should it come from your word, will be one of welcomed circumstance." The truth bled from every word as if I had etched them in my very own skin for him to read aloud.

We gaze into each other for a long while before a roaring full belly laugh rumbles from his chest and I lean back in my chair with a smile of my own.

A tapping at the door is ignored before Axel comes walking in looking at both of us as if he was witnessing the oddest production of My Fair Lady he had ever seen.

"I like her," Mr. Vaughn chuckles while Axel continues to gape at us looking like a fish out of water gasping for breath.

I rise from my chair, tapping the bottom of his chin with two fingers to close his jaw. I kiss his full pout and whisper against his lips, "Close your mouth, babe. That's not dignified." Then I lead him from the room closing the door behind us and nearly collapse on the floor the moment the door clicks shut.