Indomitable

t h i r t y - f o u r

Remi's father certainly knew how to make an entrance.

He was running across the yard with something large and hairy tucked under his arm, his eyes narrowed and on the look out for something.

When his eyes found Remi's, a sheepish grin instantly appeared. He hid whatever he was holding behind his back.

Remi glanced at Killure's cat-like eyes and then allowed her gaze to drop.

The bulging tent in his pants was large and easily noticeable.

Without thinking, Remi backed up against Killure to hide it from her approaching father.

Remi's plastered smile stiffened when she felt Killure's hardness hit her. The strained laugh he gave her only made everything worse. Every sound he made was silky and musical, and turned her on.

If only they were alone . . .

She quickly took a step forward.

"Father," she called, because he was already approaching them. "What are you doing?"

He'd been sneaking around like some sort of spy, but hadn't been doing a very good job of it.

"Ha ha!" he blurted awkwardly. "Nothing!"

"The thing you're very obviously trying to hide behind your back says otherwise."

Her father glanced behind him and winced. His eyes darted back to his daughter, and for a moment he froze.

And then he turned around and began running.

With a severed man's head in his hands. It was still dripping blood.

Oh great, another brain experiment.

Remi let out a haggard sigh, before taking off after him. "Dad, where did you get that head?" she yelled.

He only picked up his pace, running even faster now. "Ha ha!"

"You have to put it back," Remi warned, gaining on him. Her bare feet slapped against the grass as she rounded the back of her house. "Dad!"

A pointy twig stabbed at her toe, and sharp rocks pricked at the bottoms of her feet, but she paid them no heed.

Remi stopped suddenly. She spun around and ran around the other side of the house, then crouched behind a perfectly groomed bush and waited.

A few seconds later, her father darted in front of her.

The triumphant grin on his face fell as though it was made from concrete went he saw her leap from the bush and pounce on him, knocking him to the ground. The lifeless head flew from his hands, and went tumbling across the grass.

Remi stood to her feet and put a foot on his chest. He glared up at her from the ground, his arms crossed.

"Dad, where did you get the head from?" Remi raised her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

Her father tried to laugh it off, but his shaky demeanour soon crumbled at the sight of her glare.

"Fine, fine! It's off of a guy in the streets. He'd been stabbed and was practically dead, so I just took it," he huffed, standing up and crossing his arms when Remi moved back.

There were grass stains across his suit, and broken blades of grass were stuck in his hair. He was pouting.

"But was he dead before you killed him?" Remi persisted, annoyed at having to act as the conscience her father didn't have.