Page 1 of Disobedient Pawn

NOVEMBER 3 - WEDNESDAY 2:15 PM (MDT)

Ren

My headphones were firmly in place as I stared at the priest’s mouth. I couldn’t hear a word he said. My father was pissed that I was wearing them, but I didn’t care. The last thread of my caring snapped the moment he said we were moving. My mum’s body wasn’t even in the ground, and we were leaving as if she had never mattered. Like the last seventeen years were being wiped away along with her illness and everything else that had happened. I still couldn’t think about that night without shaking.

How was I going to visit her from another country? Why did we have to leave our home where all my memories were, good and bad? I was leaving behind everything and everyone I knew.

Father hadn’t been around much after he took the new job five years ago, but once mum got sick, he disappeared like a fucking ghost. Maybe if he’d been home rather than pretending we no longer existed, then….

I blamed him for so much, and Mum’s death was at the top of the list. He wasn’t there that night, and I would never forgive him for that.

I closed my eyes, and a tear trickled down my cheek. I refused to cry like the blubbering vultures standing around Mum’s casket. Where were these people when she needed a friend? My mum gave her life to making others smile, but the moment she needed someone, it was too much effort. People were all the same. Selfish pricks and I hated every single one of them. If I never had to deal with another person in my life, I would be happy. Well, except for my best friend, Lizzy.

A strand of my white hair blew across my face. I tucked it behind my ear and snuggled into my dress coat, pulling the collar up to protect my neck from the sharp November wind. I didn’t mind winter like most of the other kids I knew. I could ski and skate, and the cold weather was refreshing. Mind you, February in Canada was terrible. If there were one month I could cut out of the calendar altogether, February would be it. I glanced around at the skiff of snow already making its mark and announcing that winter would be here soon.

My eyes lifted to where my father stood beside me, and I couldn’t bring myself to care that he had tears in his eyes. He was no better than the rest. I turned back to the priest and tapped my toe to the beat of his mouth moving. This entire day was a joke. My mum was spiritual, but she wasn’t Catholic. My father insisted, saying that it would be improper not to have a service.

He made a noise like he was breaking down as the priest finally stopped talking. I glanced at him and wanted to punch him in the face, but that wouldn’t do me any good.

He could cry all he wanted. He abandoned us when Mum needed him most. Sure, he had nurses living with us, and doctors paid weekly visits, but that didn’t stop the shadows in my mum’s eyes whenever she asked where my father was, and I’d have to tell her I didn’t know. I had a pretty good idea—none of it was good—but I would smile and say he was working. He never sat by her bedside as she slowly got sicker and sicker until she could hardly lift her head anymore. No, he left that to his daughter. I was twelve when she got sick and took over learning everything she did for the house and then looking after her medical care. I was seventeen now, and I felt like I’d aged fifty years overnight, even had the white hair to prove it.

The priest made the sign of the cross, and one by one, people stepped forward, laying a flower on my mum’s casket. I didn’t recognize half of their faces. Who were they? Did they even really know my mum, or were they just here for the food?

I spied a man making his way through the crowd as they slowly wandered back to the lineup of cars. I’d never seen him before, but he had a commanding and unnerving presence. He was tall and striking for someone my father’s age, what everyone called a silver fox. He reminded me of someone from a mafia movie with his black suit and intense stare. As his dark grey eyes met mine, I shivered, and my insides flipped, but not in a good way. My instincts told me I needed to say away from this man. He was dangerous.

I clicked off my music but left my earphones in so they wouldn’t know I was listening to their conversation as he stepped up beside my father. I returned my gaze to my mother’s coffin, but my ears were trained on the two men beside me.

They were talking with hushed voices, but I could still make out what they were saying.

“Are you and your daughter packed?”

My father nodded, and I could only assume this was someone from his work. “I wish we had a few more days. This is going to be a hard adjustment for my daughter,” my father said and glanced down at me, but I focused on the assortment of flowers that made the black coffin look almost beautiful.

My mum would’ve loved all the pretty colors but would’ve hated the fuss. She didn’t like it when Father took the fancy new position that came with the massive pay raise. We didn’t need the money. My mum had long ago made millions with her sculptures, but she preferred to donate most of it and said that we didn’t need for things. They didn’t bring real happiness.

Father had wanted to move us from the beautiful yet simple four-bedroom home we lived in, but Mum wouldn’t do it. She said all of her memories were here, and all the renovations were just the way she wanted. I could hear them arguing at night about appearances.

I agreed with Mum, fuck appearances. If someone judged me because of the house I lived in and my clothes, they weren’t people I wanted to spend time with. They didn’t deserve my friendship.

“The movers will be at your home to pack all the items you marked to come. I’m not rescheduling, especially when the jet is here and ready to go,” the man I didn’t know said, and my heart rate tripled. This had to be my father’s boss. Even though his voice was soft, there was a threatening undertone, and I instantly didn’t like him.

I’d never flown before, let alone on a private jet. On the surface, it seemed exciting, but the reason for leaving wasn’t.

“I understand. We will head home, grab our luggage and meet you at the airfield.”

I crossed my arms over the black coat I was wearing, my hand gripping the flower I was holding. I sucked in a sharp breath as one of the rose’s thorns stuck into my finger.

“Ouch,” I grumbled and shook my hand before putting my finger into my mouth.

“That looks like a nasty cut,” the man talking to my father said and stepped around him to stare down at me. “You really should be more careful. You don’t want that to scar.” He held out his hand, and I stared at it, confused as to what he wanted me to do. It was just a poke from a rose thorn, really not a big deal. When he continued to stare at me, I put my hand into his and immediately wanted to jerk it away, but he closed his hand around my wrist, trapping me in place.

I hated being short. At five foot even, I was considered just under average, but my world was filled with tall people. I felt like a freaking Smurf among giants. Even my mum had been tall and graceful, but I’d been cursed. I felt tinier as he lifted my hand and inspected my finger. For a moment, I thought he might try to kiss it and ‘make it better’ as he focused on the small droplet of blood that had formed.

“You a vampire or something,” I asked, and my father’s face paled so much I thought he would faint. That was it. I was going to think of him as Count Dick from now on.

Count Dick smirked. “Some have called me that, but not because I sucked their blood, just their life savings and souls along with it.” He smiled, and I tried to jerk my hand away, but he held on until I finally looked to my father for help. This man was creeping me out.

“My name is Lawrence Collier. It’s good to finally meet you, Ren,” he said. All he needed to do was hiss at the end to complete the whole Satan vibe.