“Chris can’t take over the company,” he yelled loudly.
I jerked back, confused with what the hell he was talking about. “Of course, he can. He’s already your right-hand man.”
“Chris can’t take over the company because he’s not a Masters by blood,” Dad snapped. The look on his face showed instant regret. I imagined the look on mine matched Callie’s.
“What did you say?”
“Perhaps it would be best if you took this conversation somewhere else,” Mr. Rosenthal said calmly.
“Fuck that. I want him to explain.” I didn’t mean to be so disrespectful to Ryder’s grandfather. He was an amazing man and had treated me like his own grandson for years, but I needed answers.
“Chris was three months old when I met your mother, Maddox. He’s not my biological child.”
Callie gasped at the revelation, but I only felt outragedat another lie. “Is Callie even yours?” I snapped. “You’re already oh-for-two. Why not make it a strikeout?”
“Watch your mouth, Maddox. You are not too old or too big for me to remind you who your father is.”
“Well, it sure as fuck isn’t you. All this time, I thought you took me out of a sense of obligation to family and because you felt sorry for me. I’ve always felt like I was a damn burden to you. Now I know you just needed an heir to your fucking throne. Well, guess what,Trey, it ain’t gonna be me.”
I turned and stormed out of the restaurant.Later that evening, my dad showed up at my apartment, banging on the door, demanding I let him in. I didn’t.
I didn’t answer his calls or texts. I didn’t answer his emails. For months, I refused to speak to him. When I finally started again, it was for Callie, but it was only a word or two.
That continued for years.
Standing here alone
Present day
The warmth in my veins is a high all in itself. The feeling of it flowing, coursing through me,soothes long before it takes effect. Maybe it’s just in the knowing. Knowing that feeling of release and euphoria. Knowing that relief is coming.
I need it right now. My irritation is reaching astronomical levels as well as my inability to sit still. My mind is racing ten thousand miles an hour as I think about my dad. So many secrets all my life. So much left unresolved. That will never be resolved.
He wanted to protect me. He wanted me to be happy. He wanted what was best for me. He loved me.
All of these things he told me dozens of times over the last few weeks. I just don’t understand why he couldn’t say them to me when I was a kid. When I needed to hear them. When it might have made a difference.
So much time wasted. So much time we can never get back.
Five weeks ago
After spending most of the day just driving around, I walk into Bastian's house. It’s all I’ve done for days. I’ve been avoiding all of them. I’m just not in the mood to talk about what went down at his dad’s over a week ago.
Usually, atthis time of day, no one is around. Bastian is doing whatever nefarious shit it is he does and calls business. I suppose it probably is since he and Rory worked hard to make most of their business legal, but it’s still hard to imagine it.
Verity is never home at this time. She teaches at a school for special needs kids and never gets home before four.It is always enough time for me to disappear again orhide in my room until they go to bed. It’s when I try to sleep since it’s been basically nonexistent since the latest bombshells in my life.
Since the revelation that Pawpaw and Jewel both heard voices, I've been struggling. It’s been fucking with my head, especially after learning Pawpaw didn’t fall.
I’ve wondered what they heard. Did they hear the same unexplainable white noise I do? Did they see things they knew weren’t there? Did they obsess as I do?
Like I have been doing. To the point that I want to pull my hair out and scream at anyone that comes near me.
So when I walk into the door to find my dad sitting at the table, deep in conversation, I get pissed all over again because I know an ambush when I see one.
I yank the earbuds out of my ears that I’ve have been blasting practically nonstop because they quiet the noise a bit with frustration. “What are you doing here?” I bark out while glaring at Bastian.
Again, I notice how old my dad looks. He’s only about sixty, but he was always in such great shape. I’m still thrown off by how much he’s changed since I saw him at Jewel’s funeral. He’s a good thirty pounds lighter at least. His coloring isn’t great.
