Elsker

30. The Truth

"You talk from experience," I say worriedly.

He nods. "I know you have dealt with Allison's issues. Her father, her fears, her clumsiness. For Sara its her stubborness. She gets mad whenever I tell her to do something and she argues with me about worrying about her."

"Sara. All I have is the first name of the girl, nothing else. We're best friends Malcolm, I should at least know her let alone her full name," I say a little frustratedly I might add.

"Sara Anthony," Malcolm says with a sigh.

I can't contain my laughter. The bastard had fallen for a college friend's daughter. Malcolm was truly fucked and I could only laugh about it at that moment. My laughter ends however as soon as I realize Sara's age.

"She's like twenty-years-old! Malcolm, Jesus Christ!"

"Please! How old was Allison when you two started your affair?" He argues angrily.

He was right and shamefully I look away from him and quietly answer.

"Twenty-One...."

He laughs. "We're both sick, I guess."

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Arriving at Allison's parents townhouse caused a spike in my blood pressure. I was angry just thinking about what had occured in this home. How many times had Allison been pushed down the stairs? How many times had she trembled just at the front door, not wanting to walk in?

I needed to remind myself that she is safe. She is fine. She is okay. She is away from them.

"You good?" Malcolm asks taking his seatbelt off.

"Just give me a minute, I need to call Allison."

He nods and pushes his door open giving me pricacy to talk to my girl.

I pull my phone out, her number is saved on my home screen, ready in case of emergencies.

The phone rings and rings, by the third time I begin to worry but she answers giving me a wave of relief.

"I was just thinking about calling you," she answers with the sweetest voice.

"Whys that?" I chuckle even though I was slightly worried about why she would need to call me.

"I was just going to ask if I could go to lunch with a friend of mine."

"Why would you ask?" I am taken back, completely confused as to why she needed permission.

"I know its a bad idea, never-"

"No! No, its just... you dont need permission to go to lunch with a friend. I would like you to text me that you're going though. You dont ever have to ask to do anything, Allison, you know that right?"

"I guess... I was just making sure. I didn't want to go and have you get all worked up about me leaving the penthouse," she explains.

"No, I wouldn't unless you didnt tell me and just dissapeared for a few hours. I just like knowing where you are and what you're doing... all the time."

She laughs her beautiful melodic laugh. The laugh sends a jolt of eletricity through me causing me to close my eyes tight and just indulge in her voice.

"You're crazy, you know that?" She laughs.

"Just about you, elsker."

After ending my call with Allison, I exit the vehicle and walk to the stoop alongside Malcolm.

"You can't force them to let you in, remember that," Malcolm warns.

"You think I'm going to barge in and demand answers?"

Malcolm gives me a look, a raised eyebrow and a nudge of his shoulder.

At the door, I knock a couple times and then we wait. I hear the sound of footsteps then the door opens.

I did not expect Travis Bowen to be home but here he is standing in the doorway. He wears a wrinkled button down with messy bunched up sleeves and wrinkled slacks. He has a stuble forming and his eyes are dark and baggy. He probably hadn't slept for days and a part of me wonders if his conscience ever kept him up at night.

"What do you want?" Travis chuckles.

"We came to talk about Allison, we have questions," Malcolm answers for me but Travis and I just stare eachother down.

Travis chuckles. "Theres no return policy on the whore."

Malcolm could already tell I was ready to lunge so like instinct he moves between me and Allison's father preventing chaos.

"We have questions about what you've done to her... we know." Malcolm says sternly.

Travis surprisingly moves aside, allowing us in. For a moment I thought he'd insult my wife yet again and slam the door.

Malcolm and I want into the house. It is pristine, clean, nicely furnished. He probably threatens his wife to clean the house spotless.

Travis leads us to the sitting room and like I expected he aims for the liquour cabinet.

"If you dont want her anymore give her to Josh Wrens. He's taken everything else from me," Travis says pouring a glass of scotch.

"He's taken everything from you? Wasn't it you who sold Allison to him?" Malcolm questions.

Travis scoffs. "Like I had a choice. That bastard has more clout than me, more money, and he has a lot of people willing to break my legs for a check," Travis explains downing the scotch. "Now, what is it about my daughter that you wish to know?"

I let the words come out fast, blunt and stern almost like a warning.

"She is not your daughter."

Travis just scoffs and pours another drink.

"She was at one point."

I shake my head. Malcolm gives me a look to warn me.

"Real parents dont groom their daughter," I snap.

Travis chokes on his scotch. He takes a minute to recover, setting his drink down hard on the table and turning to me.

"I never groomed her. I'll admit it, I hit her, a lot. I told her things, I called her names, and sure I made her wear skimpy clothes to dinner parties. I did not groom her. The "selling" of her was just a dowry, its normal in many cultures. I did not train her to be a submissive whore," Travis snaps at me like a fucking pissed off turtle.

Travis becoming defensive only made me angrier and soon I found myself yelling.

"So you didn't train her to ask for permission for everything! You didn't train her to take every single hit like its nothing! You didnt train her to apologize for every single thing that happens even if it isn't her fault!"

"No! I didn't! Her mother did!"

Silence encompassed the room. The truth was out but there wasn't a relief of weight, it only made my shoulders feel heavier.