Page 44 of The Good Girl

Randolph Montgomery stands with his arms crossed, face twisted in anger, and I see where Lena gets her temper from. The man is normally the pinnacle of politeness, smiles, and goes around kissing cute little babies, but here he was, looking like...well, looking like I had my fingers in his daughter.

Lena turns a shade of red I have never seen before and climbs off my lap, smoothing down her dress. “Father…”

“Where the fuck were you?” he spits, his eyes blazing. “You made me look like a fool out there! I told them you were going to play your violin for us, and lo and behold—you vanished.”

He strides up to her and grabs her wrist roughly, yanking her to his side. Standing, I glare at him, the man makes me fucking sick, but he was her father, and I needed to wait. I needed to see how she would handle herself. If she would finally stand up to him.

“My violin, the strings…” Lena tries to explain weakly, and I hate how she seems to have shrunk in on herself. It's like Randolph takes up all the space in the room, forcing her to retreat to the shadows, and that kills me.

“I don't care what happened,” he growls, and I clench my fists as the tone of his voice grates on me. “You should have come out and played the piano in that case! You humiliated me!”

Did he even hear himself? It was always about him. Selfish fucker. I wanted to choke him in that moment, how could he not see how Lena gave him everything?Everything.

Lena's hands begin to tremble as she looks up. “But I can't play the piano…”

Her voice is barely more than a whisper, but I can hear the confusion and hurt. Didn't he know what she was capable of? Did he realize how hard she worked? Didn't he understand his only child at all? She broke herself, forced herself to be a perfect little doll for him, and he didn’t even understand a damn thing about her.

“Another inadequacy!” he snaps as he runs his free hand through his hair. “We'll rectify that immediately. I am so disappointed in you, Elena.”

“You will have to fix your hair and get back out there.” Tugging on her wrist, he tries to drag her towards the exit. The force he uses makes me flinch, and I step forward as he grunts, “Maybe if you sing something, it will recover a little of my pride.”

It’s like something inside my chest snaps. I’ve stood by and waited, I’ve watched him hurt her for years.

“She can't sing either,” I call out. “She's tone-fucking-deaf.” Standing with my arms crossed, I give him a smug grin and relish the way his lip curls up in disgust.

“Tris…” Lena warns, and I can see the conflict on her face as she wrestles with trying to be a 'good girl' for her father and wanting to be herself. He really has done a number on her, conditioning her to need his approval, to bend herself in order to be perfect for him.

“What did you say, boy?” He seethes as he drops Lena's arm and storms over to me, stopping when our toes touch, his face inches away from mine. It's an intimidation tactic, but Randolph can't touch me without backlash from my father, not because my father cares about me but because it would be a matter of honor within The Society. If he so much as spat on my shoe, my father would demand retribution. “Don't you start interfering. This is nothing to do with you.”

I straighten my shoulders, at full height I'm four inches taller than the smarmy politician. “Lena is my fiancée, it has everything to do with me.”

With our eyes locked, I reach up the small space between us and lick my index and middle finger slowly, throwing it in his face that they were just buried knuckle deep inside the woman he is trying to control.

Grabbing my jacket, Randolph pulls back his first to swing for me, but Lena throws herself on his arm instead. There's a loud crack as he turns and slaps her, the sharp noise echoing around the marble room.

“You'll pay for that,” I snarl, furious that he’d laid a hand on her.

“I'm not afraid of you, boy,” he sneers, ignoring Lena, who is turned away from us, clenching her cheek.

“It's not me you need to be afraid of,” I say with a half-smile.

Lena turns to look at him, and it's almost like slow motion as her tongue flicks out to taste the blood droplet that has formed on her lip. On one of the stands, up for auction, is a jeweled dagger, with several blood-red rubies encrusted on the hilt, glinting in the low lighting. Lena doesn't even pause as she grabs it and unsheathes the blade. This is why Lena had to be the one to stand up to her father. He needed to see what she was truly capable of. How she was so fucking perfect for The Society and me.

“I am quitting the cheerleading squad.” Her voice is steady as she takes a step towards him. It was like this with Sam. And Serena. She's calm and collected when she embraces her monstrous side, it's like a switch has been flipped inside her, and I love it. I love her.

“Like hell, you will not shame this family.” Randolph doesn't flinch, but his nostrils flare ever so slightly. He isn't used to being defied. Years of sitting on top of a throne you didn’t earn will do that to a man. He only has power through his wife and his lineage, as a man in his own right he is nothing. Especially not compared to his daughter.

“I am never going to play the violin again.” Another step closer.

“You will learn to behave, young lady!" Spittle flies from his mouth as his body begins to tremble, but it isn't fear. It's the anger. It's her defiance that's making Randolph come unstuck, like a shitty glue.

“And I will be going to college.” She brings the blade up to her father's neck.

He scoffs, but I can see the way his eyes flit around the room as he thinks of an exit strategy. “If you think you're going anywhere after this stunt—you are sorely mistaken.”

“You have no power over me,” she growls as she forces her father to his knees. “Listen carefully, if you lay another finger on me, or if you threaten Tristan again—I will destroy you. I am not a child. I am not a doll, and I will not be your show pony.”

He opens his mouth to chastise her, but she pushes the blade in deeper. A bead of blood begins to form, and we all watch, mesmerized as it runs down the blade, and I can see why the creator chose the ruby handle. There's something beautiful about the color of crimson as it glimmers.

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