Burnt Lies

Go To Hell

Alara

After bidding goodbye to Cameron and the rest of the gang, I had climbed into the spare car that Cameron had lent me the other day, and began to drive towards my childhood home. There were so many memories associated with that block of land, some joyous and some downright awful. Memories that I would continue to subdue until the day I died. There were some things that should be left unspoken and I would be damned if I let anything that had happened in that house got out. Let's just say my father wasn't all that he was made out to be. 

Once I had reached my old home, I stood at the door for a good five minutes, trying to school my breathing and the anger on my features. I didn't know how I would react when I saw him now that I knew yet again he had not considered how I would feel, he had been selfish, putting in the clause of the marriage contract that I would have to obey the Grayson's that I would have no autonomy, that everything I owned and held dear would be there's to manipulate. Theo was right, he was a bastard. And as much as I wanted to say that to his face, I needed to control my feelings. Nothing would come from an outburst of anger, no I needed to think about this rationally, keep my cool and get the information I needed.

I just needed to know why.

Taking a deep breath, I clasped a hand around the gold door knocker, and with three thumps against the oak wood door I let it rest. In a matter of moments, the door was swung open, not by my father but another familiar face, "Hey Bennet," I smiled somewhat brightly at my father's personal guard. 

I hadn't seen him in a while but it must be a new precaution after the numerous attacks on me, my father probably thought that he would also be on the target list if I was. 

He gave me a soft smile, he had always been a gentle giant but that didn't mean you should underestimate his abilities he had a  deadly shot, never missing his target, genuinely the best of the best. 

"Hey Alara, you're father's waiting for you in the dining room," he explained briefly to which I just nodded walking into the well lit corridor. 

"It was nice seeing you Bennet," I called out behind me as I made my way to the dinning room. 

"And you Alara."

The house was eerily quiet, as I made my past the kitchen I had seen that the window that had been smashed during the attack on me had been replaced, the glass looked thicker, probably due to it having been replaced with a bulletproof alternative. 

Soon I was at the doors of the dinning room, once again I paused at them, heavily debating how mad my father would be if I just decided to ditch this dinner and just go home. It felt odd to me that I no longer felt that this was my home, I was so far removed from it that being with Cameron felt more like home. And it took a lot to admit that not that I would tell him outright. 

But I decided against it, for the sole reason I needed answers. 

Pushing the heavy set doors open, to reveal my father sitting at the head of the table as he always did, he offered me a subdued smile that I quickly returned even though I didn't feel like it. 

"Alara dear, you don't know how good it is to see you," he spoke with an air of paternal love that was rare and only seemed to show its face when he wanted something. 

I couldn't bring myself to say the same to him, I was too angry about the bargain he had struck with Mr Grayson, my freedom for his gang. It was clear what he cared about more. 

So the only response I gave was a nod. 

He raised his brow at this a look of disapproval gracing his stark features, but he didn't press further than that. 

I took a seat on the other side of the table, as far away from him as possible but this wasn't too unexpected because this was the seat I usually took at family dinners. 

"You wanted to talk to me," I kept the edge off of my words, playing the ever dutiful daughter instead of the raging one that lay beneath the surface. 

"I did, I'm sure Mr Grayson has told you that the wedding will be moved up to be in two weeks time," at the mention of Cameron's father my hands clutched at the edges of my seat, doing all that was possible to make my anger subside. Just hearing him mentioned, reminded me of the deal he and my father had struck. Selling me off like I wasn't worth anything at all. That my opinion didn't matter that freedom was just a fictitious thing that shouldn't exist in my life. 

"Yes he told me," my response was curt and devoid of any other emotion. 

He gave me a pointed look but didn't press further, "And how do you feel about it?"

The question was an empty to one, I knew for a fact he didn't care about what I thought at all. The question was a mere formality. 

"It is what it is, it's not like I have a choice," my tone slipped, giving in to the anger and my father noticed it immediately. 

"And what do you mean by that Alara?"

I hated the way he spoke to me, like he didn't know what he had done to me. Like I wasn't smart enough to figure it out. 

The barrier between anger and civility had been broken in an instant and the snarky comments were rearing their head, "I think you know exactly what I mean."

His eyes bored into mine challenging me to speak further to blame him, he always had that air of power around him and today was my chance to break that down, "When were you going to tell me that you sold my freedom to the Grayson's,"

"Alara-"

"Don't Alara, me, answer the damn question."

"That is no way to talk to your father," his voice wavered with vexation. 

"Some father you are," I rose from my seat bracing myself against the table and trying to even my breathing but nothing could quell my rage in this moment. 

Following suit, my father also stood, his stance domineering and the picture of patriarchal power. 

"You have no right to talk to me like that, after I have raised you."

"That is the bear minimum, and it's a lie. You were never there, ever, only when you needed something. Theo and Ma raised me not you, and thank God, I can't imagine what I would have turned out to be if I were raised by you,"

His face turned a deeper shade of red, a muscle in his jaw feathering, "Alara Genevieve Mortello, you will show me respect."

"Like you respected my freedom? What am I to you, that you would so happily give away something that is mine, and mine alone."

"You are my daughter and I will do whatever the hell I want. Don't be fooled about who gave you the freedom in the first place, and I have every right to take it away."

"Go to hell." I yelled before turning on my heel. 

He shouted after me but I blocked out the sounds. Hot tears trailing from my eyes and leaving a searing trail down my face. 

Bennet tried to ask if I was ok but I had no energy to speak to anyone. I walked straight passed him and flung myself into the car. 

Once in the car, I gunned the engine and drove as fast as I could, my mind racing and which each angry tear my speed went up. I wanted to feel something other than anger, and for now adrenaline would have to do.