The massive corner suite beckons me. A wrought iron distressed door isn’t hard to find against the muted background. Father dearest might appreciate order and uniform simplicity, but his demand to stand out from the pack rules higher.
His secretary leaps from her seat when she catches me approaching. “You can’t go in there. He’s in the middle of—”
I throw a hand up, cutting her off. “This will only take a minute of his precious time.”
With that, I barrel into his office as if the devil himself is chasing me. A loud crack of wood against drywall announces my entrance. My father looks up from a stack of paperwork without any sign of distress. His beady brown eyes narrow on me.
“You might be my son, but barging in unannounced is unacceptable. Nice fucking stunt you’re pulling in front of my staff.”
“Figured I’d return the favor for once. Am I disturbing your precious routine?” I begin picking the dirt from under my fingernails.
A joint pops in his wrinkled cheek. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“A man pushed far enough to quit caring about wounded pride. What’s a little more?”
He taps his pen to an agitated beat. “Temper tantrums at your age aren’t attractive, Crawford. It’s no wonder you’re single.”
“Just like it’s no secret why mom cheated on you. She wasn’t willing to waste more years. I’ve finally come to that point myself.”
A ruddy tint bursts across his cheeks. I almost expect flames to erupt from his eye sockets. The glare he’s shooting at me is meant to detonate and destroy. He grips his armrests with white knuckles, leaning back in the chair until the springs creak for mercy. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I have a feeling you have an agenda. Why don’t you get on with this desperate act for attention so I can return to what’s truly important?”
“You’re a piece of shit,” I spit. “Because of you, I almost threw away the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. You’ve always cut me down, but those days are over. I never want to see your smarmy face at my shop again. Forget where I live.”
His face screws up in a distorted grimace. “Is this about that whore—”
I stomp toward him until my broad frame towers over his hunched position. “Stop talking or I’ll rip all of those words out of your mouth.”
“Threatening your old man?” He might have a set of brass balls, but I catch the way his gaze skitters off mine.
“Seems only fair after the hell you’ve put me through.” I cross my arms, leaning further into his space.
His expression is deranged, shifty and unstable. I widen my stance to brace for impact. He catches my slight movement, narrowing his eyes into barely visible slits. “Oh, poor little Crawford. My son can’t handle strong guidance or the truth. But you’ve always been weak.”
I dig my toe into his beige carpet, smearing grime into the plush beige fibers. “That might be true, but I’m done being a spineless wimp. This toxic association between us ends today if you refuse to change. You’ll be dead to me, but maybe that’s what you’d prefer.”
My father is quiet for a moment, staring me down without so much as blinking. “I’d threaten to cut you off, but you’ve never taken my money. Your brother, on the other hand, has lost his damn mind. I assume you have everything to do with that.”
“Grant is his own person. I’ll admit to being fucking giddy that he finally wised up and came to his senses. But how he chooses to run his life is all on him, and he has his own amends to make with me. I refuse to be your verbal punching bag for another second. If you need to feel better about yourself, go see a therapist.”
A chuckle that lacks any ounce of humor jostles his paunchy gut. “Thanks for the advice, Ford. I’m of sound mind and go to bed each night without a single worry. You, on the other hand, are one fatal disaster after the next.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, pops. I’m finally seeing things clearly. This is for Keegan and Millie and the happiness I almost let you destroy. Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean I have to be. You’re a miserable schmuck. I have every intention of redeeming myself.” I deserve some damn closure to smooth over this shit cannon.
“Good luck with that, boy. You’re antisocial. Always was, always will be.” His putrid breath contaminates the sterile air pumping through the vents. It takes all of my control not to gag.
A tight smile bends my mouth. “Only because I’ve been letting your opinion define me. I’m ready to move on.”
“With a single mother and her mute child? They’ll never stick around. You’re being a naive fool, which is no surprise.”
He might be right about that, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Fear will no longer dictate my decisions. I won’t stand silent and ruin the potential of finding love. Hell, if luck is lenient enough to grant me a favor, I’ve already found it.
“Well, that’s on me.” I straighten, separating us with some much-needed space.
“It most certainly is. It makes me almost proud that you can accept defeat.” He juts his jaw, resembling a bulldog. The image is fitting in this situation.
“I can tell you’re not ready to accept our differences, but guess what? I can be the bigger man.” I slap my chest, the strength within gaining momentum. “Holding grudges has caused enough damage. I’m not interested in loose ends and unanswered questions. If you truly want to be a family again, fucking prove it. When you’re ready to make peace, come find me. Grant will be waiting, too.”
His sneer shows off the pearly whites he spent a fortune on. “How fucking cute. My sons are finally a
