Steal the Stars [REWRITING]

Nicole - My Fault

TW for this chapter. PM me for details/a summery of this chapter. 

I'd spent two years running from the person who now stood directly in front of me, as calmly as anything. He was even smiling, like this was a happy reunion, like he wanted to see me. After making it perfectly clear to me that I was worthless for years, I didn't exactly believe that was the case.

He stepped closer to me, and I tried to resist the urge to shrink back. "You're bleeding," he said, reaching toward me as if to wipe it away. Almost like he cared.

I jerked back. "Don't touch me."

Before I could blink, he'd smacked me across the face, hard. I spit out a mouthful of blood, gasping for breath as I stumbled backwards. I shouldn't have said anything. I was an idiot. I knew how he worked. I should have kept my mouth shut, should have let him say whatever he wanted to say, get all his anger out on me, whatever, shouldn't have reacted.

"Don't you ever speak that way again to me, girl," he snapped. "Shows what being out there has taught you. You should have left. Look at you now–bleeding, after climbing up here like a crazy person. I'll bet you anything that boy outside had something to do with this."

My heart stopped.

"Who?"

His smile crept over his face like a snake, then, the same oily smile he always gave me when he knew he had me. "So, that interests you, does it? Maybe he was nobody...unfortunate if he was, though. I'm afraid that would mean I left some poor serving boy in bad shape. It's just like you, though, to pick someone like him up. Little slut."

No, no, no.

He looked back at me. "But I don't think that's the case, do you, Nicole? For one, he was quite handy with that sword of his. It's a pity I caught him by surprise–I'm afraid it'll leave a scar. Quite a nasty one, across his back."

"No," I whispered.

Hearing me, my father smiled. "Oh, yes. I can only assume it's your fault he was up here, which isn't much of a surprise. You always made a mess of things. But don't worry–really, you should be grateful to me. I left him alive."

My fault.

My father grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Do you want him to live, Nicole? Or should I go out and finish him right now? It's up to you."

"Please." He let go of me, shoving me hard to the floor as he did.

I didn't get back up. What was the point? I'd only wind up on the ground again. This was easier. Especially because, if I did, he might decide he was bored of keeping Leo alive. And it would be all my fault. It was my fault he was here, and it would be my fault if he died.

"Good, then. Let's have a chat."

I didn't say anything.

"I'll start. First question: what are you doing here?"

I stayed silent.

"I said, what are you doing here?" He slammed me backwards into the wall, the back of my skull cracking against it. Pain flashed through my head, and I fought to push tears down. "Worthless girl! When you're asked a question, you answer it, do you hear me?" I opened my mouth to try and respond, but I wasn't fast enough. He shoved me into the wall again. "Answer me! Do you hear me?"

"Yes!" I cried out. "I hear you!"

He released me, and I crumpled against the wall. "Now," he snarled, "answer the question."

"Nothing," I lied. "A joke–a prank. That's all it was. A dare. I'm not doing anything!"

"Liar!" This time it was his foot, catching me in the chest. "When I ask you a question, I want the truth. Do you want to try again, or should I go right out and take care of that boy in the hallway?"

"No. Please. I'm sorry. I'll answer, I'm sorry!"

I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry–

"Try that again, then."

I couldn't think of anything. My head was spinning, everything hurt, the world may have well as been ending. It was for me, anyway. I couldn't tell him the truth, I couldn't lie, it was my fault, Leo was going to die and it was my fault–

"It was," I began, knowing it was never going to work, "it was a dare. From kids I met when I ran...they bet I couldn't. And–and they had money. They said they'd pay me...I was stupid, I know, I shouldn't have, I'm sorry–"

He grabbed me by my arms, lifting me easily and slamming me into the window. I screamed as he forced my arms back through, glass shattering and embedding itself in my skin. My eyes were beginning to fill with tears, and I blinked desperately. He hated crying. He hated crying and he hated me, and he should. Because he was right about everything.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He dropped me to the floor, pieces of glass in my arms, blood pooling around me. "Don't try to be smart," he snapped, "because you're not. You are nothing–you will never be anything. That boy outside this door? If he lives, he will come to hate you. He'll realise, and he'll leave you. Because you're not worth the effort to stay with."

He bent down to me. My daggers were forgotten, still sheathed away. "Do you understand me, Nicole? He and everyone else will leave you, because they will all, at some point, realise what I know: you amount to nothing. You are worthless, and no matter how hard you try to lie to yourself and others, that's what you will always be. You will always run, you will always decide it's easier than staying and fighting, because you are a coward. You will run, and you will leave destruction in your wake, and people will know. They will know that, despite the image you paint for yourself, you are nothing but worthless trash."

I didn't move. I didn't disagree. Because he was right. And I knew it.

He leaned back away from me. "If you won't talk, fine. I'll see you in a moment–I guess you'll just have to deal with the aftermath. I'm sure he's already regretting ever meeting you, but it's unfortunate he'll never have the chance to tell you. Not if he's dead."

I tried to push myself up, crying out, "No!" I gasped for air. My head kept spinning. "Please. Don't hurt him. I'm sorry."

He turned. "Are you ready to talk, then?"

"Yes. Just, please, leave him alone."

He smiled, and I wanted to hit him. "Depends on whether or not you can convince me. Remember, this rides on you, Nicole."

"I know," I whispered. My mouth was dry.

And then I told him. I told him why I was here, about the jewels, why I had climbed the tower, why I could climb the tower. I skipped over Annabelle and James. I had hurt enough people tonight; they didn't need to be hurt, too. I told him Leo was working with me, that he'd been standing guard–even though he hadn't. I didn't know why he'd been outside, but I knew it was because of me, somehow. That I had as good as killed him.

I told him because I was a coward, because I couldn't save Leo, much less myself.

He was right. About everything.

"But you couldn't even do that, could you, Nicole?" he asked, his voice soft. I hated when he spoke like that, even more than when he flew into a rage. "Figures." He turned towards the jewels, which were in the center of the room. "How much do you value that boy's life?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. He knew, anyway. That had been my mistake. One out of many.

"Get up."

I tried to force myself to my feet, crying out as I stumbled and glass bit into my arm. I pushed myself up again, stumbling to my feet. My head spun.

"You're going to get those jewels for me, and you're not going to ask questions. Do as you're told, keep your mouth shut, and maybe I'll do you a favour and let the boy live. Do you understand me?"

I nodded.

It wasn't like I had much of a choice, anyway.

Leo wasn't ever going to forgive me, but at least I could try. Maybe, somehow, he could make it back to Annabelle and James. It would be without me, but it didn't matter. I'd be dead.

Word Count: 1,458