This time was different. I barely said anything. He doesn’t even seem that angry, and yet he still hit me. And it wasn’t just a slap of the hand. He used a weapon, and he used it with as much force as he could, knowing it would injure me.
“Did you hear me?” he yells.
“Yes.” I stare into his dark eyes, wondering why he did this. Is he just trying to remind me who’s in control, or is there something else going on?
“Tomorrow at nine.” He turns and walks to the door. “We’ll meet in the entry. Goodnight, Briggs.”
When he’s gone, I slam my door shut and lock it.
Fucking bastard. He didn’t even show any remorse. It’s like he enjoyed hitting me. Part of me wants to call my mom and tell her what he did. She’d be angry that he hurt me, but there’s nothing she could do. I doubt she’d even come back here to check on me. Maybe this is why she left. Maybe he hit her, too. But if she knew he was abusive, why would she leave me with him?
* * *
The next morning, I go to the office with my father, wearing my suit like a good little boy. I sit across from him at the long, walnut table in the conference room, staring at charts and spreadsheets on the laptop he gave me. I couldn’t care less about any of it. It doesn’t even make sense.
I didn’t sleep last night, and I’m exhausted. Even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about as he goes through the spreadsheets. I think if I were interested, I’d understand it. I’m not stupid, and I easily pick up on stuff, but it’s almost like my mind’s defying him, refusing to comprehend what he’s teaching me.
“Any questions?” he asks.
“No, I’ve got it.”
I don’t, but it’s almost noon, and I want to get the hell out of here. I need to talk to Finn and Parker and see how much damage they’ve done. I’m sure they’ve been texting me all morning, but I haven’t seen the texts because my father took my phone, saying he needed to eliminate all distractions. I wantedto tell him that I’m distracted by the throbbing pain in my cheekbone from him hitting me last night, but I decided against that, noticing he’s still in a bad mood that seemed to get worse when we got to the office.
My father’s phone rings. It’s sitting right next to him, and he’s been checking it all morning because apparently the phone is only a distraction for me, not him.
He answers it, smiling. “Hello, Phil. How are you this Sunday afternoon?”
From his cheery tone, you’d never guess he was in a bad mood. He’s a master at being on when he needs to, then shutting it off just as fast.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, nodding. “Perhaps now you’ll trust me with another hundred million.” He laughs. “Sure. What time are you thinking?” He checks the clock on the wall. “I could make that work. I’m at the office with my son. I’ll run home and drop him off and meet you at the club. See you soon.”
“We’re leaving?” I ask as he gets up.
“Yes, and we need to hurry. Phil has a one-thirty tee time.”
I close the laptop and get up, secretly thanking whoever this Phil guy is for saving me from an afternoon of torture. My father always accepts golf invites because it usually leads to getting more business. Then, after golfing, my father will insist on taking the guy to dinner, which will be another chance to talk the guy into investing more of his money with us.
We get home, and my dad races in the house to change. This is awesome. He’ll be gone in a few minutes, and I won’t have to see him until tonight. Or maybe I can hide in my room and pretend to be asleep so I won’t have to see him at all.
This is why I hate weekends. It’s too much time at home, too much risk of running into my dad. During the week, I’m at school all day, then have rugby, followed by hours at the gym.I’m usually out until eight or nine, and when I get home, I tell my dad I have to study, so he leaves me alone.
When I’m back in my room, I take off my suit and put on jeans and a t-shirt. I felt like I couldn’t breathe in that suit. I couldn’t wait to take it off.
I look at my phone and see a string of texts from both Parker and Finn. I also see one from Ella. I look at that one first.
Working for my dad until noon,she texts.If we’re meeting I need a ride, and I have to be home by 4.
Why did she have to be involved in this? I had her in the palm of my hand, ready to give up the valedictorian title, and then this happens. I could still try to threaten her to do what I want, but I don’t know if she’ll go along with it now that we’re stuck sharing this secret. She could threaten to tell, although I don’t think she would, knowing that turning us in could get her in trouble.
Going through Finn’s texts, not a single one makes sense. They’re all drunk texts, or maybe he was high. He handles stress by drinking or smoking weed.
As I’m looking through Parker’s texts, he calls.
“What’s going on?” I say.
“You still at the office?”
“No, I’m home. I was going through your texts.”
