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His words sting. They sting so bad. Like he’s beat me with them.
A smile tugs at his lips. “Did you think I didn’t know?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you know,” I grit through my teeth, reminding myself that all he’s trying to do is sway me, to anger me into submission.
“Do it. Ask me the questions I know have been weighing on your shoulders, Son.” My hand trembles. The gun feels heavier in my grasp now.
“Do it!” he demands, his voice booming. “Ask me, Andrew. Ask and you shall receive.”
Even though I shouldn’t, because I know it’ll lead me nowhere, I give in to the impulse to ask him the questions weighing on me. As badly as I want to end his life, I also desperately want to know what it is that I’ve done to deserve so much hate.
“Why? Why did you pretend I was your son for all these years? Is that why you hated me so much? Because I didn’t have Marshall blood running in my veins.” I keep my face blank. He might’ve pushed me into asking him, but I’m not that trapped little boy controlled by him anymore.
“I thought you figured it out years ago and were just too chickenshit to confront me about it. That or you didn’t give a shit. You being a bastard child might’ve been the obvious reason for my hate toward you, but it wasn’t the only reason. You were born with everything that I had to claw, cheat, and steal to get. I came from nothing, less than nothing, less than your little wallflower. You’ve been oblivious to that fact, always a spoiled, entitled brat all your life. One I raised, admittedly, so part of that is on me. I thought maybe a little discipline would help, and it only made you more arrogant. The harder I tried to get a rein on you, the worse you became. Soon, I realized that it wasn’t that I just didn't like you. I didn’t love you either. Not like a father should love his son. Those feelings never changed.”
I can’t hide the flinch that time, and I hate him even more for it. “I was only a child. How could you hate a child?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t want you. I didn’t want kids at all. Your mother was the one who made the decision to adopt you.”
My mother. My sweet… hanging on by a damn thread mother.
I don’t miss the way he glances in the direction of her sleeping body with a sneer. “Your mother, the useless fucking lump who does nothing. I never grasped how she could love you like you were her own. She wanted children so badly and refused to lay it to rest. It destroyed our marriage. I tried to give her what she wanted, but I failed. Nothing was ever good enough for her.”
Part of me is worried he is oversharing to stall, and another part of me wonders if he’s lying just to fuck with me. Could be both.
I wave my gun at his face. “If you hated me so much, then why didn’t you just leave? Why beat me? Why stick around for years?”
“It’s simple really. After a while, I came to the conclusion that there was no getting rid of you. I decided then that it was my responsibility to toughen you up. I couldn’t change that your mother wanted you, but I could make certain you turned out to be the man I needed to take over the family business when the time came. Unfortunately, you proved over and over again how useless and pathetic you were. I held out hope until that trashy little slut came into your life.” His gaze shifts to Bel, along with the muzzle of his gun. “Hopefully, your shot is as good as you think it is because if you don’t kill me with one bullet, I’ll make certain you get to experience firsthand the ways I plan to make her suffer.”
Bel’s entire body shudders beside me, and she wraps her arms around her middle like it’ll hold her together. I want to say something to comfort her, but doing so would only draw his attention to her further.
I shake my head. “No, you don’t want her. You want to kill me. Haven’t you been dreaming about that day as long as I have? It’s not just because I’m not your biological son.”
His gaze swings among Bel, Sebastian, and me. “Whose death would be the most impactful here?” He shifts his stance, one foot behind the other like an old-west gunslinger.
God, if he goes for Bel, this is over. I’ll have ruined both mine and Seb’s life, whether we walk out of here or not. I shift to match his position, inching closer to her so if he decides at the last second to shoot her I can try to jump between. I notice Seb doing the same, his knife somehow gone, two guns drawn now. One on either guard. When did he get so good at this?
I force air into my lungs and focus my attention on my father. This is my only chance. One shot to take him out and end this all for good. Inside, questions linger. I want more answers. To ask who my real parents are and find out why they put me up for adoption. And unfortunately, the only person with answers at the moment is the fucker standing in front of me.
“Well, are you going to pull the trigger?” my father snaps.
Seconds tick by. All I can hear is my own heartbeat in my ears. Why am I hesitating? I tighten my grip on the gun, the sweat clinging to my palm.
He lets out a long sigh when I don’t immediately take the shot. “Just like I expected. So fucking pathetic and weak. I think this is the real reason I always hated you, because you have no concept of what it takes to survive in this world.” He raises his gun and points it at my face. “Let me demonstrate.”
I don’t breathe.
I don’t blink.
In an instant, I’m assaulted by emotions that are soon drowned out by the deafening bang of the gun as the shot echoes through the room.
34
BEL
The bang of the gun is deafening, and my ears ring to the point that I lift my hands, placing them over my ears to eliminate the sound. Fear holds me frozen in place, and time ticks by slowly. What happened? A heaping dose of adrenaline fills my veins, and awareness trickles back into my body.
Drew’s been shot. He’s going to die.
