𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐄

─ ❝ act xli ❞

⎡ act xli - kidnapping ⎦

┊❝ You suffered the most, (Y/N) ❞┊

── (Y/N)'s father, when he came home that evening, didn't think much of her silence since that was all he really gave her in return, no matter what she spoke to him about. That, or complete and utter rejection since he couldn't even stand to look at her face which reminded him so much of her mother—her mother whom he both abhorred yet still loved with his entire being.

Throwing his briefcase and keys on the counter after hanging up his coat and slipping off his shoes, he loosened his tie as he traversed into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he frowned when noticing how bare it looked, having always left grocery shopping to (Y/N) by transferring her money to her card to do so since he was so busy. It was odd to him seeing that she hadn't done so yet, but he ignored the questions arising in his mind to instead pull out some old leftovers to heat up and eat.

Sitting down at the table to work on his computer and have dinner simultaneously, the hours soon began to bleed together.

He didn't even notice (Y/N)'s absence.

After finishing his work, he closed his computer, loaded his dishes in the dishwasher and ascended the stairs up to his room without even glancing in the direction of (Y/N)'s door. Running a hand through his hair in exhaustion, he quickly stripped of his clothes to take a long shower after the rather stressful day that he had, staring mutely down at the grey tile as he let the warm water run down the contours of his back.

After stepping out the shower, drying himself off, and dressing in his night clothes, he was hung his chair when he happened to glance upon the photo of himself, his wife, and (Y/N).

In the photo, they were happy.

It left a bitter feeling spreading within his heart.

Letting out a sigh, he finally stepped out of his room to silently check on his daughter. He didn't see any light underneath the crack of her door, so he assumed she was asleep, staying quiet as he stepped inside. Much to his surprise, even in the dark, he could see that her bed was perfectly made. Flicking on the light at that point, his eye twitched in vexation when seeing her room bare.

In that moment, he theorized (Y/N) could have been out getting groceries, but it was far too late for such errands. Therefore, there was only one possibility: she had once again disobeyed him.

Scowling in both rage and disbelief, he left his daughter's room to storm down the stairs and outside to his care whereupon he promptly slammed the door shut behind him. Taking out his phone and looking at the location of (Y/N)'s phone, he faltered when seeing that she was only a few blocks away. With his eyes narrowing in suspicion, he drove towards where the small dot on a map said she was. When he arrived at the small, inconspicuous park, all he found after a few minutes of searching was (Y/N)'s broken phone.

He stared down at the device for a solid minute, as if he were sure of what to do.

What was he supposed to do?

(Y/N) had to be there, yet she wasn't.

So, where was she?

Picking up his daughter's phone and upon pressing his thumb against the screen, he found that it still turned on, yet required a password. He didn't even know where to begin.

She's gone.

The words were like a gunshot in his mind, yet in his mind nonetheless.

Numbly, he returned back to his car and drove back to his house, entering the space and finding that it seemed much more empty, and much colder than he thought. Tossing (Y/N)'s broken phone onto the counter and running a hand down his face as he used the other to lean against the edge of the table, he couldn't form a single coherent thought without another one interrupting and ramming into the other like a barreling train.

Had (Y/N) run?

Or had she been taken?

It was true that she had been acting far more reserved and far more tense than usual, but that had to be a coincidence, right?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure of what to even think. He wanted to believe that (Y/N) had just disobeyed him once more, and she would walk through the door like she had last time in shame. She would be there all the same though, safe, without a single scratch. Yet, no matter how long nor how hard he stared at the front door, his daughter never appeared.

It was as if her very presence had been nothing but a faint memory.

It made his hands tremble.

Was he feeling scared?

Now?

After everything?

Did he have any right to?

No.

He didn't.

"Fuck," he muttered as he slung his glasses off and pressed his hands flat onto the counter, his eyes closed right whilst his eyes fluttered erratically under his eyelids, trying to think where (Y/N) could possibly be without her phone. "Fuck... fuck, fuck fuck!"

Collapsing onto a chair, he knew.

"Did I do this to you, (Y/N)?" He questioned as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Is this my fault? For failing you as a father, is this some twisted karmic retribution for my actions? I don't get it, (Y/N)... I really don't." His eyes fell as his entire expression crumbled, the only real emotion he felt in so long other than utter detachment as he whispered, "But, it's true. You suffered the most, (Y/N). Because of me."

He let out a tired sigh, once more dragging a hand down his face before replacing his glasses on his nose and picking up his phone. Dialing a number, he placed the device to his ear.

"Hello," he spoke with a sharp edge to his voice. "I'd like to file a missing persons report."

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To be continued...