Stray (Shifters #1)(30)

I frowned as if I didn’t understand, but his point was frighteningly clear, and devastating to my argument. Alone in the free territory, I would be a living, breathing status symbol. A trophy for the biggest, fastest and strongest stray. Unless I was willing to fight every day of my life, I would have no life worth living. Not in the free territories, anyway.
But what about the south-central territory? I thought, a new plan rising from the ashes of its predecessor. Daddy had more land than he knew what to do with. I could live six hundred miles from the ranch and still be safe within the territorial boundaries.
“Fine.” I nodded in concession to his point. “You’re right. Leaving the territory isn’t the greatest idea I’ve ever had. But it’s a big territory, and I don’t have to leave to gain a little privacy and independence. I’ll go to Oklahoma. Or Kansas. I’d still be a member of the Pride—just living on my own. Like Michael.” I glanced across the rug at my oldest brother, hoping for his support. I should have known better. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, unwilling to take my side against our father.
Daddy shook his head slowly, but I could see him thinking…
“I’ll do holidays on the ranch. And my birthday. And Father’s Day.” Did that sound too desperate? “I was at school for five years, and everything was fine. This would be just like that.”
“The guys took shifts watching you for all five of those years,” he said, frowning as if I’d missed something really obvious.
“Yeah, but that was a total waste of resources.” My father’s color deepened to an angry red, and I decided to rephrase. “I was fine. And I will be fine. Because I’m going.” There. Decision made. And it wasn’t even unreasonable—at least in my not-so-humble opinion.
But my father clearly disagreed. He watched me intently now, his expression unreadable. There was no frustration, no more anger, and no glint of determination. Definitely not good. 
“Listen to me carefully,” Daddy said, his words as slow and deliberate as each measured step he took toward me. “Because what I’m about to say isn’t coming from a father to his daughter. It’s coming from an Alpha to his subordinate Pride member.” His voice was low and dangerous, almost a growl. I’d heard him take that tone with few other cats, all of whom had been repeat offenders, intruders being offered one last chance before he turned them over to Marc.
Surely that wasn’t his plan for me. I wasn’t breaking in; I was trying to break out.
He stared down at me, not quite three feet from where I sat. I’d never seen him this mad, and the worst part was knowing that there would be no wiggle room because his anger stemmed from concern for me. He wouldn’t compromise my safety for anything. Even if the danger was only theoretical.
“I absolutely forbid you to leave the ranch…”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he held up a hand to cut me off.
“…but I acknowledge that I can’t stop you if you’re determined to go. The choice is yours.” He took a breath deep enough to strain the buttons of his dress shirt, and dread made my heart thud in my chest. “However, if you choose to leave now, I will send every tomcat at my disposal to bring you back. You’ll be lucky to see daylight by your next birthday.”
I gaped at him, wide-eyed, my pulse racing. I’d turned twenty-three less than a month before; he was threatening to lock me up for nearly a year. I didn’t know whether to be angry or scared. Or pleased, because he was finally taking me seriously. My father had never threatened me before. Well, not as Alpha anyway.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, Faythe?”
“If I run, you’ll send the guys to drag me back by my hair and toss me into the cage.” I aimed for nonchalance in my expression, as if I were threatened by an Alpha every day. But my heart was skipping entire beats in an attempt to slow itself down, and I knew he could hear it.
He smiled his polite-company smile and returned to his armchair, smoothing his suit coat into place as he sat. “I prefer my manner of delivery to yours, but yes, that’s what I mean. Do you still intend to go?”
Did I? It wouldn’t do any good; he was right, I wasn’t really willing to hurt my brothers. And they would catch me, eventually. Daddy would use every resource he had to track me down, and I suspected that if I pushed him that far, my stay in the cage might stretch out long past the year he’d threatened.
My eyes found Michael, looking for his take on our father’s threats. He shrugged, apparently unsure whether or not to take Daddy seriously. But in my entire life, I couldn’t remember my father making an empty threat. Not once.
I inched forward to the edge of the couch, hoping that would make me look confident and alert rather than like I might bolt at any minute. “I assume if I say yes, you’ll lock me up.”
He nodded, his hands clasped in his lap. But his thumbs were twitching. That meant something. It didn’t mean he was bluffing; I couldn’t get that lucky. But it might mean he wasn’t as confident as he seemed to be in his ability to find me if I took off. I was a kid the last time I ran away, and I’d accumulated several more years of real-world experience since then. Or at least several years of college campus experience.
I held my breath, thinking. “What if I say no?”
“If I think you’re sincere, I’ll settle for twenty-four-hour supervision until you’ve proven yourself trustworthy.”
If, I thought, finally onto something. We’re both speaking hypothetically… A smile blossomed on my face, slow and sweet. “Are you willing to negotiate?”He arched one eyebrow, and I knew I’d said the magic word. My father loved to negotiate. He enjoyed the process of begrudging give-and-take the way most cats enjoyed the thrill of a good chase, and he considered himself very tough to bargain with. He was right. However, if I’d judged correctly, he would go easy on me because he’d view a request to negotiate as a sign that I was coming closer to accepting my place in the Pride. But that was his mistake, not mine.
“What did you have in mind?” My father leaned forward in his chair, eyes glinting in anticipation.
I fiddled with my watch, buying a little time to think. He would see through that, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was playing his favorite game. “I’ll agree to defer my decision about leaving until Sara and Abby are found, if you’ll forget about the round-the-clock supervision until we revisit the issue of me moving out at a later date. How’s that sound?”
He smiled. “Nice try, but you’ll have to be more specific than that.”
My hope faltered, and I shifted on the sofa, leaning forward to mirror his pose. “Meaning what?”
“Name the later date.”
“But I don’t know when we’ll find them. Soon, hopefully, but I’m not psychic, Daddy.”
Michael chuckled, and I glanced away from Daddy long enough to glare at him.
“You don’t have to be psychic,” my father said. “You just have to be explicit. The key to negotiation lies in stipulating the details.”
I barely resisted rolling my eyes. I’d heard that line at least a dozen times since my twelfth birthday, but I merely nodded, playing the part I’d signed on for.
“Let’s set the date of your decision for the day after the last missing girl is found, in case Sara and Abby are found separately or someone else disappears between now and then. And if we find the girls before we catch the jungle stray, you have to put off your decision until he can be found and disposed of.”
“Fine.” I had no problem with that because I agreed with Marc’s theory that the jungle cat was involved in the abductions. “So—for the record—if I agree to wait until the abductors and the trespasser are caught and disposed of, you’ll forgo the twenty-four-hour babysitting?”
He sat back in his chair, considering, and for a moment I thought I’d won. Then he spoke and I realized what a fool I’d been to think he’d go easy on me. “Your agreement to put off your decision is good enough to keep you out of the cage, but the chaperone is nonnegotiable.”
My jaw dropped, anger blazing through me. “Then you haven’t conceded anything! You would have caged me even if I hadn’t agreed to put off my decision.” 
“You’re right.” His voice took on an instructional quality, as if he were addressing a class full of students instead of one very angry daughter. “Another important principle of negotiation is knowing when you have the upper hand and when your opponent has it. And right now, I have the upper hand.”
I shrugged. “So there’s no reason for me to wait.”
“How about this.” He couldn’t keep satisfaction from his face. He loved putting me through hell! “Round-the-clock supervision, with restroom privacy on a trial basis?”
“No way. That’s bullshit,” I cried, pounding on the arm of the couch. I hadn’t even realized bathroom privacy was an issue, and I certainly wasn’t going to use it as a bargaining chip. He had no right to, either.
Michael started to object to my tone, because whether he was acting as my father or my Alpha, no one got away with cussing at Greg Sanders. But Daddy held his palm up for silence, cutting off Michael’s protest without a word.