𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗 𝙾𝚏 𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚃. 𝙾𝚝𝚝𝚘 𐂃

Chapter 17

THAP. THAP. THAP.

After three consecutive knocks, the sound paused making Cristine looked up at her door with a deep seated frown. She just finished speaking with her highly emotional father and Hailey and needed to convince them nothing worse than the beating had happened. Hailey whoever had this look in her eyes that said she'd stop by later to hear the full truth. Her family were the last ones Cristine wanted to know what conspired. However, her clear cut explanation on how she dealt with them had strangely calmed her father. She expected him to be angry, blame himself and tell her not to ever set foot outside if it wasn't necessary; the same way he coddled Hailey. He didn't do any of that, but the sharpness in his blue eyes was chilling it startled Cristine. 

"It's me." Cristine bit her lip in frustration, she completely forgot that she would go to the pantry for a debrief. "Got you some pain killers," he said.

"I already have some," Cristine answered rather skeptical from the unexpected deceny. She had to get used to the fact that Troy and the guys saw her part of their people now. Cristine would move on, but she wouldn't forget. She'd probably never forget.

"We need to talk." Cristine hesitated to open, but then again it wouldn't last long if she tried to avoid Troy. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, mentally preparing her words of defense. While taxing to always be on guard what had happened in the woods refreshed Cristine's mental guard. She made a mistake out there; the Ranch and its walls had made her weak. But not anymore.

Several seconds later, Cristine's footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. While she walked, she slid her knife into its leather sheath and onto the back of her pants. The well-known door handle, which always frustrated her father when it didn't properly opened, turned as stiffly as ever. Cristine opened the door and promptly caught his eyes. The icy blueness generated a feeling like she was being pulled into a frozen lake. She could tell by his rigid body language that he was displeased, and those narrowing orbs confirmed her thoughts.

"It's about Willy." Troy watched her blink. He breathed a sigh, wondering how one person could step on so naturally on other people's toes to make them want to raze her place. The worst thing was Cristine didn't even bother faking she was unbothered. There was this permanent hostile air between her and Willy. Now Blake and Willy had issues with her in the middle. It was something Troy wasn't able to deal with immediately with the threat of Ben still in the air. But now he could and he wanted this wrinkle stripped from of his militia. The rules were here for a purpose and he couldn't have his men forget that purpose with petty fights.

"I already said my piece. You said you would handle it once we got back," Cristine said and leaned against the doorframe. "We're back. So handle it," she nonchalantly muttered the last part.

"That's not what he told me... so someone's story is not adding up." Troy's eyes squinted into beads.

"You saying that someone is me?" Cristine pulled up her nose.

"Watch it," Troy warned as he didn't like the accusing tone.

Troy and Cristine were at a deadlock... again.. and the way she looked at him, black eyes drilling into his. Troy couldn't help but think – he'd never seen such dark eyes with so much light inside them. Staring into them, he was surprised to see coldness. It was like looking into a depth of a never-ending darkness of a small portal of hell waiting to swallow everyone against her with its imminent ruin. Her glower radiated pure violence and self-destruction and that look was usually reserved when she was ready to fight for her life. 

"You know," Cristine chuckled in exasperation, tired to have to defend her right to breathe in the same vicinity as the rest. "It doesn't matter." She cut back the sigh and fought the urge of slamming the door in his face for wasting her resting time. Troy watched her frown slacken and tilt her head to the side, exposing the dark purple around her neck. The same black purple welts were scattered across her face like a disease. It looked like it hurt to breath and he wondered how bad the damage was. "You didn't come here to talk Troy. So make your point, spew out all that bottled up ignorance same as Willy, enjoy the power trip and leave."