GOLDEN REBEL HEART

Chapter 27

Taylor is playing with the dirt on the ground when suddenly, she hears his voice, calling her name. She gets up so fast that she wonders where she has gotten that energy from, since she's exhausted. Yet another week has passed, and the first day of November, Pagan Min makes his way through the narrow streets of the outpost Taylor's been segregated in. The old men and women working in the field stop what they're doing as they watch the scene unfold a few feet away from them.

"Oh, Taylor — you're here, sweetheart!" his voice drips with honey, and she hates the sound as it fills her ears. Her fingers are covered in dirt, and her once shining golden blonde hair is ruffled and greasy, in desperate need of a trim. Her hands close into fists and her jaw clenches, as the polished figure of her supposed father stands in front of her. Taylor despises the way his pink suit fights with the dead colors of the outpost, how alive he seems compared to everything else. Even his eyes sparkle as they slide along Taylor's slim and overworked body.

"What do you want," she mutters as quietly as possible. She wants to punch him in the face, wipe away that stupid grin that overcomes his thin lips, but something holds her back.

Pagan tilts his head to the side and sighs, and eyes the two soldiers standing beside them. "Can't a father see his daughter, every now and then?"

Taylor feels the urge to gag and throw up scratch the back of her throat. She says nothing, knowing that an angry outburst is all he wants out of her.

"Cat got your tongue, darling?"

"No."

"Then why aren't you speaking?"

Taylor never averts her eyes. "I'm exhausted, and I don't want to speak with you."

Pagan looks at her with an impassible look on his face. Then he sighs, closes his eyes, and says, "Come on, come talk to me—," he grazes her shoulder, but Taylor avoids his touch with a hiss.

"Don't touch me."

The King groans. "Just—hear me out, alright?" he says, annoyed. "You're the only one that can make these monkeys reason, and—,"

"Don't call them that. They're not monkeys," Taylor is starting to get angry, the rage inside of her body flaming.

"Anyway," he dismisses her with a wave of the hand. "You're the only one that can put some reason into their minds, and you need to speak with their leader. Tell her that she needs to stop all of this thing about rebellions, alright? If they want me to stop this, they need to calm down and put an end to all of this show. Am I clear?"

Taylor grits her teeth, the proposal unexpected, but rather advantaging for her. Her anger simmers down, and she unclenches her jaw. If she is given a chance to speak with the leader of the Golden Path — with Karlie — she could ask to speak privately with her.

"Yes," she says. She raises her chin, bravely, and adds, "But at one condition,"

Pagan rolls his eyes, and replies, "What is it?"

"I will speak with the leader alone."

"What? No way—,"

"If you really are my father—," she tries not to cringe as the word slips out of her mouth. "—then let me do this my way. I promise that they will hear me out if you're not there breathing down on their necks."

Pagan Min is the one to look distressed now, as he puckers his lips in a pensive frown. He glances at his soldiers, shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and takes a deep breath. "You make sure you do a good job."