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“I said get your fucking hands off me!” Reese bit out. He began fighting me, which I knew was only causing him pain.
“Knock it off, Reese,” I barked. “There’s glass everywhere!”
“What happened?” I heard Gage call as he entered the kitchen, flipping on the overhead lights as he did so. “Shit,” he said when he saw us. He was by my side instantly. Nash, too.
“Help me lift him,” I said to Gage as Nash grabbed the wheelchair to steady it.
Between the three of us, we easily got Reese back into the chair, but the second I went to try and clean some chunks of food off him, he struck out at me.
“I told you not to touch me!”
“Hey!” Nash snapped.
I put my hand out to stop Nash from interfering and I did the same to Gage. Ignoring the potential danger I was putting myself into by getting so close to Reese, I put my hands on each armrest, which, in effect, caged Reese in. I got in his face and said, “I know you hate me, Reese. I know you don’t want anything to do with me. But don’t fucking ask me to stand by and do nothing when you’re at risk of getting hurt. Whether it’s a little bit of broken glass or a car barreling down on you, I will always, always, protect you. Do you hear me?”
My son stared at me with brittle eyes. “Is that before or after you fuck another one of my bosses?”
I shook my head at him. “I don’t deserve that,” I murmured.
“Let’s ask my mother what you deserve,” Reese said coldly. “Oh wait…” he added snidely. He leaned forward so we were practically nose to nose. “You’ve got your work cut out for you with Ronan, Dad,” he sneered. “Because unlike you, he actually believes in the marriage vows he spoke. Not to mention that he wouldn’t break up his family for a couple of quick, secret fucks… not even for you.”
“That’s enough,” Gage snapped. He took my arm and gently pulled me aside. “I’ve respected your wishes to keep him away from you, Reese, but you don’t talk to anyone like that in my home. I don’t care what shit went down between you two.”
I could see it was on the tip of Reese’s tongue to say something out of sheer pride, so I quickly said, “It’s fine, Gage. Tell Charlie I’m sorry, but I’m pretty tired, so I need to skip the game tonight.”
I didn’t wait for Gage to respond. I just turned and hurried from the room. I knew Nash wasn’t far behind me, but I didn’t wait for him to catch up.
“Everett,” he called, but I just quickened my pace. No way was I going to let him see me cry. “Everett, wait,” he said, then he easily caught up to me and grabbed my arm. “Why do you let him talk to you like that?”
All the rage I couldn’t take out on Reese, I took out on Nash instead. “What would you have me do?” I snapped. “He’s hurt and scared and so fucking angry… how do you get through to someone dealing with all that? And you know what? He deserves to feel that way. You have no fucking clue what it was like for him as a kid.”
“Fine, then tell me,” Nash said.
I wasn’t expecting the response. His willingness to listen deflated some of my anger. I shook my head and began walking toward the house. “He grew up in the spotlight. He was only nine when I was asked to run for vice president, ten when we won. Even though it’s standard for reporters not to report on the kids of candidates, a few did here and there and Reese would see the comments in the newspaper. His friends would tease him.”
“What kind of comments?” Nash asked.
“Cruel ones. Reese was a small kid, kind of awkward socially. He hated having the cameras on him and you could tell. Sometimes a reporter would make a comment about how Reese would never be able to follow in his father’s footsteps if he couldn’t even smile once in a while. Reese took comments like those to heart and then he’d try even harder to make a good impression – like he thought maybe I actually agreed with that shit. He asked me once a few months after I was elected why those people didn’t like him. He never understood that they were going after him to try and rattle me… to get a reaction out of me.”
“Fuck,” Nash muttered.
“He pushed himself so hard after that. Got perfect grades, always made sure he looked his best whenever we were in front of the cameras, tried to smile more, made friends with kids he thought others would approve of, even though they weren’t the types of kids he would have hung out with otherwise.” I shook my head. “My boy would have been happier just hiding out in his room for eight years reading. Sometimes I think he only joined the military because he knew he’d blend in easier with other soldiers than he would on a college campus somewhere.”
