CHAPTER 75:

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Rebecca

I look at him intently, keeping a strong poker face to keep him away from seeing any signs of fear in my body.

He looked exactly as he did when I was held in that jail cell a year ago.

The only difference was his beard was grown out slightly and he had a purple hue under his eye.

My lips curve into a wicked smile as his slowly diminishes, then I spit in his face.

He falls back onto his palms and wipes his face in disgust, soon turning to anger. He rocks back on his palms and returns to the once crouched position he was in before, then standing up fully, my eyes following him.

He clenched both his fists and narrowed his eyes at me.

I could tell from the look he was giving me that he was pissed beyond control. I knew I had made a mistake when he started to swing his fist back.

He mutters, "you little bitch," and then starts to swing his arm forward.

I shut my eyes and cringed awaiting a sharp blow, but it never came.

I opened my eyes and saw Leon's arm caught by Xander, who was even angrier than Leon was.

"Don't even try that shit," Xander growled as Leon kept his composure the same.

There was a silence then; the two men challenging each other without words, and neither backing down.

I felt intimidated on the ground, so vulnerable, as they towered over my little body with low growls escaping their throats.

"Enough boys," a deep bass voice echoed through the shadows of the park's forest, wickedly, causing a shiver to crawl up my spine.

I couldn't see the man who spoke so sinisterly, but ever since he kidnapped me, I immediately recognized his voice.

I see you've made quite the impression on Leon," Lachlan emerged from the shadows behind Xander and Leon.

He was wearing a dark gray shirt that defined his broad but lean chest, black skinny jeans with holes just at the knee, and flat, beaten brown boots which had scuffs on both the tips of them.

As dangerous as he was made out to be, he certainly didn't look it right away. He almost looked, well, too mundane for the gang world; too average. But as he stepped closer to me, I grew tense, starting to feel like his presence was intolerable, and it made me feel uneasy.

Even though I've met the man before, somehow I was afraid. More afraid of someone than I've ever been before.

And the man that I was so afraid of was my father.

"You cut your hair," he casually spoke as he stroked my hair.

He placed his hands on his knees and looked at me more clearly than ever.

"Your resemblance to her is uncanny," he breathed out in awe, making me shiver.

My jaw was tense, and I almost forgot to breathe. I felt like a baby deer in the clutches of well—a lion.

The silence dragged on and I refused to say a word.

"Oh right, I totally forgot why you came here," he chuckles wickedly to himself.

He turns around in a full circle, muttering something to himself before he faces me once again. He leans down to my level and I analyze him as he does me.

He looked the same as he did before. Long, blonde straight hair that goes to about his shoulders, all held together in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck, dazzling emerald green eyes, high cheekbones, and a perfectly chiseled nose.

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