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“You good, bro?” Brock gives me a sympathetic look before looking up at my dad’s oceanfront mansion. I
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know, dude. Thanks for the ride. I’ll let you know once he beats me senseless. I’ll definitely need a ride back.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. I get out and shut the door, hearing the wheels of his Dodge Charger peel out of the driveway behind me. I look up at my dad’s mansion. A man like him doesn’t deserve this lifestyle. I glance at his convertible Mustang and sigh. He’s worked hard for it, sure, but I can’t fathom him living a nice, relaxing life after being an asshole for my entire childhood. He’s two years retired from hockey and he’s in the Hockey Hall of Fame.
Rolling my eyes at this thought, I knock on his wooden door. My heart continues beating as I wait for the door to open. I try to mentally prepare myself for our usual greeting. The door opens, and my breath hitches.
A blond woman shows up at the door.Who the fuck is this?She looks about forty years old and clearly has had her fair share of plastic surgery. She’s wearing a bright pink blouse, white capris, and sandals. Her bright smile instantly greets me as I look up at her.
“Hi there! Who might you be?” Who might I be? I look around and make sure I came to the right house. Yeah...definitelythe right house. He’s moved about two miles from campus, so I’m certain this is his house.
“Uh, I’m Jake Larson? Dan Larson’s son.”
Her eyes brighten, and her smile gets bigger. Her energy is a bit too much right now.
“Oh,Jacob! Yes! Dan has told me about you. I’m Nicole, his girlfriend,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand.
Girlfriend?I almost laugh.What woman wouldchooseto date Dan Larson? Before I can answer, Dan shows up at the door. His energy is vastly different from Nicole’s.
“Thank you, honey. That will be enough,” he says curtly. Her smile suddenly goes away as she nods at me and goes back into the house. Well...that explainsthat. He faces me as he crosses his arms. Dan Larson is not aging well. He looks more bitter than ever, and his wrinkles are heightening. “Jacob. What brings you here?”
“How did you bag her?”
That’s probably the wrong way to ask that, but I don’t regret it. He knows I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m twenty-one. He stills beats the shit out of me, but that doesn’t stop me from not giving a fuck. He raises his eyebrows.
“Excuse me? How did I ‘bag’ her?”
Right, he doesn’t respond well to certain words. “Oh, I’m sorry. How did youcourther? Is that better?”
He doesn’t react well to that either. He gives me a glare before clearing his throat. “Do you need something, Jacob? Surely you know I don’t enjoy my time being wasted.”Yes, because talking to your son is always a waste of time.
“I’m off to Europe tomorrow for two months, so I wanted to let you know that I can’t interact with you during that time.” Thank freaking God. Any excuse to ignore him.
“This is what you wanted to tell me? This could’ve been communicated via a phone call or a text,” he retorts. Sighing my frustration, I keep my hands at bay.
“Unlike you, I prefer to say things face to face, Dan. And since we haven’t had a real conversation in a while, I thought this would’ve been a good opportunity to actually have one.”
He glares at me again, clearly wanting to hit me. “You need to be careful how you speak to me, Jacob. I’d tread lightly if I were you. Especially since your last game sucked. That alone should make me beat the shit out of you.”
“So why don’t you, Dan? Nothing’s stopped you before.”
He uncrosses his arms. “Don’t tempt me, boy. Maybe it’ll make you play better if I whip you into shape.”
“Whatever, you bastard. I just wanted to let you know just in case you texted me anytime during my trip. I don’t need drama on a two-month long trip to a game series. Find another punching bag while I’m gone.”
With that, I’m done. But he’s clearly not done yet. He grabs my arm, whips me around, and connects his fist with my face again.
“You think because you’re older, I can’t hit you anymore, boy? I’m tired of your bullshit.”
I glare up at him before jumping up. “You can hit me as many times as you want, Dan. Your hits are still as pansy as they were the last time.” His nostrils flare as he tries to punch me again and misses as I give him a gut punch. “Stay down, Dan!Stay the fuck down!”
He grunts and pants as he looks up at me, wiping his mouth.
“That was pretty good, boy.” He laughs menacingly and gets up slowly. “But you still hit like a girl.”
With that, he punches me again. I’m on the ground, and he jumps on top of me, throwing a series of punches, me blocking. Welcome to my fucking life.
Nicole called the cops. She called the fucking cops, and now I’m on the way back to campus. Limping.
