Mission Impossible

Chapter 25

  "Do you want some water? Soda?" The man in front of me asked. I kept my mouth shut and said nothing. I didn't move a single muscle.

  "Alright then," he sighed.

  After a few minutes of silence the man opened his mouth to talk again, but then shut it. He opened it again and this time said something. "You know your father cares about you, right? He doesn't want you getting involved with people like that."

  "My father doesn't give two fucks about me," I snapped.

  "Why do you say that?" the man asked.

  "It's none of your business," I said, crossing my arms aver my chest.

  The man sighed. He extended a hand in my direction and said, "I'm Ray Daniels."

  "Good for you," I said. I stared at his hand, but didn't move to shake his hand.

  When Ray noticed that I wasn't going to shake his hand, he awkwardly pulled his hand away from me.

  The door opened and in came my father. "You can go now, Ray," he spoke.

  Ray rushed out of the room.

  "What'd you do to the poor guy?" my dad asked.

  "Nothing," I whispered.

  "Okay. Let's get straight to business-"

  "Business? We aren't making a deal, father," I remarked.

  "Okay, okay," my father sighed. "Why'd you do it? I thought you were loyal to us, Elizabeth. What happened?"

  "They treated me better than you ever had," I said.

  "You've only known these boys for about a week!" My father exclaimed.

  "And I've lived with you for five years, but they've treated me ten timed better than you ever had." I crossed my arms.

  "How do you know they weren't trying to be nice to just get in your pants?" my father asked.

  I stayed silent. That couldn't have been it. Can it? I mean, I had sex with Niall and he still treated me like a princess. But he did get mad when I said it was over. Maybe my father is right.

  "I don't care anymore. You caught us. It's over," I sighed.

  "I know you better than you think I do and I know you don't just give up and surrender. You are a fighter. Just like your mother," he said calmly. He smiled at me. He knew I didn't like it when he spoke of my mother.

  "I thought I was adopted," I spoke.

  "Who told you such a thing?" My father frowned.

  "Take a guess," I said.

  "If it was one of those-"

  "No. Try again," I cut in.

  "Was it... you know? Why? Is that why he...?" My father trailed off. 

  I hate him so much, but I oddly like our relationship. My father can be an annoying asshat most of the time, but he can also be pretty caring. This always heppans when we have conversations. We argue about things until one of us brings up a touchy subject and we start caring for each other. It's quite frustrating, but it feels right.

  "Yeah. It was, uh, it was Lawrence," I whispered.

  "I'm gonna kill him," my dad said.

  "He's your son, you can't ju-"