Yeah. Pretty much. Fucking family, just not the way he means it. Mine could do with a bit of that loyalty.
King crosses his arms over his broad chest. With the way the stark shadows hit him, he's got the look of a dark angel, the kind they call in when the good guy tactic didn't work. I'm an idiot for finding that hot. “He's bluffing. When he realizes we won't budge, he'll negotiate.”
“Fuck yeah,” says Wild Child, back to flipping his knife. “We've got him by the balls.”
I'm not so sure, but as long as they are, they should keep me alive. I'm not going to argue against that. After that, there's really not much for me to do other than to sit down on my cot and wait.
Hero gets the duty of keeping an eye on me, and the way he keeps looking me up and down, you'd think he was checking me out at a club or a bar or something, not watching over a hostage. And to be honest, with his impressive physique, if we had been at a club, I wouldn't even mind. But here?
“Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer.”
“I like to look at pretty things. Deal with it.” He shrugs, like that's just the way things are. Like it's just for me to accept that he thinks of me as eye candy.
On one hand, that's infuriating. On the other, he thinks of me as eye candy. It's kind of nice to be appreciated after all the years of Dad's comments on my unsightly bulges and wanting reports on what my bathroom scale told me. It's a new feeling, but I like it.
It can't be more than a half hour before Wild Child storms back in with King in tow. He flashes me a sexy smile before looking at Hero. “We're on the news.” He holds up his phone, and the three of them gather around.
Dad's voice bursts from the speaker, chock full of fire and brimstone. “Our city is under siege. The motorcycle gangs are out of control. Larceny. Violence in the streets. Murders. Drugs. Human trafficking. The list has no end, and even still, they manage to make it longer. Now they have added kidnapping, and it’s my own poor daughter.”
Wow, he didn't waste any time, did he? I push off the bed and rush over to look. Hero and Wild Child give me some space, though Wild Child drops his hand to the small of my back as if to keep me there. Or claim me. I push his hand away once, but he puts it back, a little lower this time.
God, fine, as long as I can watch the press conference.
On the screen, Dad's lit up like he's in the middle of a lightning storm. Flashes are going off constantly as photographers take pictures and cameramen are vying for good angles. Journalists yell over each other for his attention. He points at one.
“Mr. Mayor, how will this change your approach against the motorcycle clubs?”
“It won't.” Dad holds the lectern and looks intently into the camera, not at the journalist. As always, he's putting on a show, which gives me a sinking feeling. That means I'm not going to like what he says next. “I do not negotiate with terrorists. And as much as I adore my family, I cannot put their safety before the city's. The anti-biker task force is going ahead, and the first place they're going is straight to the Screaming Eagles compound to bring back my daughter.”
“He can fucking try,” mumbles Wild Child. The other two grunt their agreement.
Dad points at another journalist and nods.
“Mr. Mayor, they may hurt your daughter. You can't possibly ignore that.”
His face tightens and he glances away for a moment. Unless you know, like I do, that the man is a master of expressions and wouldn't cry if you sprayed him with tear gas, you might think he is about to. “It pains me deeply to be separated from my lovely daughter. She is the light of my life. My reason for living.”
I nearly make gagging noises.
“But this city is everything, and I have been entrusted with a duty, one that I solemnly swore to uphold for as long as I am mayor, to protect it. To keep it safe from scum like the Screaming Eagles, so that everyone's daughters can live safely, not just my own. I have to put my own wants and needs aside, and think about what is best for us all. And on those grounds, I cannot give in to their demands. This is war.”
I knew what his answer would be. I totally did, but even still, my shoulders slump and my head drops at his words. All I am to him is a political point now, and I'm going to be stuck here for a long time.