AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Or is it because I’ve been a shitty dad, despite trying to make up for every mistake he’s made in the past?” He breathed, clearly trying to keep his calm. “Because I have failed. I admit that.”
“When I’m twenty-fucking-two. You waited that long to, what, apologize? Is that what this is? ‘Cause I don’t need it,” I lied.
“No? You’d rather have the absent parent sending you gifts?”
Ah, now he was touching the subject we never broached. We had a reason.
“I can do that,” he continued while I balled my hands into fists again, feeling my nails dig into my skin so hard it almost drew blood. “I can pretend to still be here and throw money around.”
“Mom hasn’t forgotten about me. She shows interest—"
“When? When another year is over? Without showing her face for years? By marking the calendar and then buying you the latest sports car on your birthdays? A trip to Vegas? Which, by the way, was irresponsible.”
“Oh, that’s big, coming from a guy who nails every stripper at the side of the road.”
“Nailed. As in past tense. I’m not that guy anymore, Ares. I worked hard to become better. I needed to become better. I will never be perfect, but I’m trying my damn hardest. Which includes strengthening the bond with my family.” He paused, looking at me as if he was getting emotional. “I love my life. My boys... And whether you like it or not, I love my wife. She deserves the world and beyond. So does her daughter.”
Step one: defuse grenade.
“Well, she enjoys big dick. How is that for showing how much she means to me?”
Cary pulled a face, sagging against the counter in disappointment. “Excuse me?”
Step two: hit the target.
“You heard me, Cary. I fucked your stepdaughter. So deliciously hard and deep and in every hole there is to claim.” ‘She’s mine’, I accentuated wordlessly with a wolfish grin. “How do you feel about that, Dad?”
My face turned towards the open sliding door with a smack.
Step three: medic!
It stung like a bitch—the flat slap in my face—but I refused to raise my hand and rub it away. Instead, I looked into crazed eyes that teetered with fury. Cary’s breathing was unsteady, his hand still in front of his chest, as if he would strike again if he had to.
To say in the least, he was ready to battle his son. Finally. Finally, there was a stand-off with Cary.
“Did you just punch me in the face?”
“Damn right!” Cary growled. “That’s how I fucking feel!”
Dad was outraged. And hell, it didn’t nearly feel as good as it should. Not even close. Because I used Dita. I used her as leverage, knowing I shouldn’t have ever touched her. Even if the contract wasn’t binding anymore, I now knew the reason behind why they’d underlined that paragraph.
Because she’d told me, confided in me. And I was a douchebag who’d still captured her like a scared deer.
“I might not have been a great role model but, Ares…” He exhaled heavily, as if he felt the same pressure on his chest as me. “Your mother… Portia, she left. She didn’t just leave me, but… she left you. She left Rio. And she never looked back. You hear that? She never looked back,” he punctuated every word slowly, as if it wouldn’t infiltrate reality if he didn’t. “Still… I never used Portia as a pawn.”
The homing fragmentations of my weapon bore holes, deepening the metal shards into the flesh wounds.
“I know. I know she won’t ever come back, and she can stay wherever the hell she is. But you were around, working on your family.” I huffed, “Well, your other family.”
With fierce effort, I finished this sharp-tongued conversation with a smirk, ready to spit the little blood in my mouth on his shirt. But right after I turned my head to create the right angle, I saw one of Dita’s foot slip underneath the egg swing, and my newly discovered, blossomed world collapsed. Like an atom bomb imploding on itself.
The shockwaves stripped me from the triumph. The ambition to victory completely vanished.
I’d gone to war unprepared. Never having considered I could lose the woman I’d fallen in love with.
Stumbling over my feet, I choked in my own self-absorbed failure and tried to come up with a hundred ways to make this right.
Whatever it took, I’d make sure my girl knew how badly mistaken I was. I’d carve open my chest and plate my scarred heart. She could carve it into pieces with a blunt knife and feast on it.
