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No, this fucker doesn’t get to change his mind about me twenty-four years later. That’s not what happens in the real world. Although for Sutherland Reign, maybe it does, because my dad always gets what he wants. No one says no to him. I learned that the hard way.
But I say no. I will continue to do so until the day he dies.
“I was hoping we could go out for a drink,” he says, and my eyebrows meet. Because, what the actual fuck is happening?
“I’m busy.”
He nods and looks away and then moves toward me and I start to panic. Guess that’s what happens when you’re mentally beaten down by your own dad for most of your life.
I’ve been a disappointment to him from the moment he found out about me and I haven’t been able to live up to his expectations, no matter how hard I tried. So, I stopped trying when I was eighteen and moved away from any kind of influence he may have over me.
I’ve thought about changing my last name but haven’t gotten around to it yet. The paperwork is still sitting on my desk, blank.
Just seeing him again revives the urge to fill it out and send it in.
I’ll do it soon, I think, as I stare at the man who is my biological father. God, we don’t even look alike. Maybe in the color of our hair and the shape of our eyes, but I favor my mom in almost every way. It doesn’t matter anyway; he wasn’t the one who raised me. That was my mom. My poor fucking mom who died six years ago in a car crash.
Jesus.
“Theo, look, I’m staying at a hotel just down the street for a few days if you change your mind,” he says and holds out a card. “If you want to call or text. I’m free anytime.”
I snatch the card from his hand just to get him out of here and then slam the door in his face.
Quickly, I grab Curie, holding her in my arms and sinking onto the bed.
I toss his card onto the table and hope that Curie blesses me by swatting it somewhere I can’t reach.
Fuck, why did he have to show up? I was fine letting whatever tethered us together just slip away. After my mom died, I felt like it was severed, but apparently not. Just when I feel like my life is getting back on track, he jumps in and derails me.
Screw him.
I need something to distract me.
I glance at my phone and then pocket it. For a moment, I consider asking Logan to come over and kiss me senseless, but then discard the idea. There is no way in hell I’m calling him and making myself vulnerable like that.
I glance at my phone again and nibble on my bottom lip.
No way.
eight
LOGAN
“Yeah, I’m on my way,”I tell my brother, my phone squished between my shoulder and cheek. “I’m just getting gas.”
“So, you’ll be here in like two hours?” Landon asks, a note of hope in his voice and dammit, I’m such an asshole. I should have done this sooner.
I don’t deserve him. I am the worst big brother on the planet. Ship me off to outer space.
“Yep,” I say, hopping out of my car and sliding my card into the gas pump machine.
“Alright,” Landon says, sounding excited. “I’ll make up the sofa bed.”
“Nah, don’t bother. I can sleep on the floor. Besides, where will Finn sleep?” I ask because my best friend took off a few hours ago to go hang with Landon. Asshole just couldn’t wait a few hours for me to finish my shit so we could carpool.
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, and Finn will just sleep with me,” Landon says.
Hmm, that’s new, right? Or maybe not.
