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He whistled. “You must have seriously pissed her off for her to scream the boarding school vote. Wow, you’ll be the first Denton at boarding school.”
Every single Denton man, his uncles included, had all gone to public school. It didn’t matter that his parents could afford an expensive school, or a boarding school. Public school was just as good, and it helped shape them into men.
Abel laughed. “You’ll be forced to wear a suit, and talk all posh.”
“Fuck off,” Landon said.
Maddox clipped the back of Landon’s head. In the Denton household there was a set of rules, which they all had to abide by. If they crossed the line, or were naughty, they got punished. Whatever they did deserved the punishment it earned. “That is the last I hear from you. You’ve put another boy in the hospital, Landon. Your temper is going to get you in serious trouble one of these days. Your mother has had enough of dealing with your troubles, and I don’t blame her. You think I want a fucking thug for a son, think again. I want a man with brains, who knows when to back down. None of your brothers have been to prison, and I’ve never had to bail them out of jail. You, son, are going to learn to pick your game up, or I’ll make sure you never see the inside of a ring, or the Denton family, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Landon said.
“Good, get in my fucking office. I want a three-thousand-word essay in the form of an apology.”
Landon groaned.
“Oh, I see, make it three thousand words. I want one for your mother, one for the boy, one for the parents of the boy, and one for the school.”
“That’s twelve thousand words!”
“Get writing, boy!”
Landon walked into the office.
“An essay? That’s it?” Oliver asked. “If it was one of us that sent Mom storming out, you’d have done worse.”
“You think Landon’s punishment is done? Oh, don’t worry, Oliver, I’m going to make sure he regrets ever crossing that line.”
His father knew how to punish his sons. Landon was in for a nightmare of a time. Abel couldn’t wait to watch, and to gloat.
****
“I don’t want to be here.”
Harper Mavis groaned as she looked around the glorious casino. It was like all other casinos, only bigger. Her friends, Lara and Betty, were trying to get over their recent breakups, so they wanted to come to a casino, which apparently had an awesome nightclub upstairs. Her friends had been before, but Harper didn’t like anything like this. She was more of a stay at home, study, and think about the future person. Gambling, partying, they damaged brain cells, and drinking, too. Alcohol was not good for the system. It made women lower their inhibitions, and teenage pregnancy was a huge issue. She wasn’t a teenager, but she also wasn’t twenty-one, either.
This was breaking so many rules, and as she glanced around at the bodyguards, she had to wonder why there were so many. It scared her a little. What was so good about this casino? Denton something-or-other.
“Oh, stop being a spoilsport, and have some fun. You know it’s going to be good.”
“I don’t know. It’s not really good, you know. You have given me a fake ID.” She was the only one out of all three of them who had one. Her friends were both twenty-one, and loved to rub it in her face all the wonderful things they could do. All they could do was drink. Harper didn’t see how exciting that was. She didn’t drink, nor did she smoke, or have sex of any kind. Yeah, she was a nerd, but that was more than fine with her.
“Sh, you want to get in, don’t you?” Lara said.
“What if I don’t get in?” Harper asked.
“I’ll give the bouncer a blowjob. It’ll be fine,” Betty said. “Show off your tits in that amazing outfit, and we’ll be fine.”
Harper glanced down at the dress they’d made her wear. She was a size sixteen on a good day. A bad day, a size eighteen, and in her dreams she was a size zero, but none of her dreams were ever going to come true. The dress was black, so it hid her added weight. She loved Lara and Betty as they were both happy for her to stay as she was. They were two women that believed beauty was deeper into the soul.
They had been friends since kindergarten, and while they were at college, they always looked out for each other, always.
Her feet were starting to hurt from the heels she was wearing. Who wore these kind of heels for fun, or even for sex? They were horrible, and each step she took she wanted to gasp out at the unfairness of her feet. When she got home tonight she was going to need a cold compress or something for her poor feet.
Ouch!
If she ever became someone of political power, she was banning heeled shoes. Walking into the elevator, she tried not to think of everything she was doing wrong. Her friends had a lot more guts about them.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said.
