Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
My silence encourages him to continue talking. "I’m sure you got the notification from my secretary already, but an event is coming up soon. Your attendance is expected. Black tie, of course, but do not bring a plus-one.”
I never got notified, nor did I know about the event, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is his name and image. "I’ve never shown up with a date to your events. Dating isn’t really my thing, and let’s be honest, Dad, no one I bring will live up to your standards anyway.”
It’s a punch in the dark, one I’m sure I’ll pay for in due time, but it still feels good to let the words fall off my tongue. He makes a noise. Some type of growl mixed with a grunt.
“Do not fucking test me, Drew. I have no problem hitting you where it hurts most. And speaking of pain, I better see some improvement in your grades soon. You’ve been playing ball too much and not studying enough. Football is another trophy on the shelf, but not your entire life. Without an education, you’re nothing, and you will not tarnish our family name by refusing to study and get good grades.”
I press my lips together, biting back all the responses bouncing around inside my head. Says the fucking man who just ordered me to come to one of his stupid parties. No matter what I do, I’m never good enough. We win the game, and in his eyes, we could’ve won by more. I attend his stupid events and smile, playing the perfect son, but away from the public eye, I’m shown it’s not good enough. Nothing is good enough.
"You will attend, dressed appropriately. You will not bring a date, and you will behave and act respectfully or else.” The warning hangs between us.
"Yes. I'll be there.”
The words stick tight in my throat, making me want to find the man and punch him in the face. If I didn't need him, for now, we would have gotten into it a long, long time ago.
When he doesn't continue, I ask the question that will surely ruin his day. "How's Mom?"
"If you want to know how your mother is, then get off your ass, go to the estate, and see her for yourself."
I’m tempted to press him and ask him when the last time he saw her was, but I stop myself. I don't want this conversation to last any longer than it already has.
"Fine. I'll go see her." I say it because it's what he wants me to say. I say it because I'm two seconds from unloading my shit on him, and that will only make things worse for me.
"How’s school? What rank is your team currently?"
Anyone listening might think he's asking because he cares. I know better. "First, of course."
"Good. Always the best. Nothing else will do. Just remember, as I said, football is another trophy on the shelf. Your education and our family image are everything else." It's a speech I've heard a hundred times, a hundred and one times, and I don't need it again.
"Did you need anything else?" I keep my tone flat and businesslike so he doesn't chastise me further.
Thankfully, he can't see my face right now. "No, that's all. I'll make sure the secretary sends the invitation with the time. I’m sure I don’t need to put into words the ramifications this could have.”
He hangs up without another word, and I squeeze the phone a little too tightly, then toss it onto the desk. My hands are shaking, my muscles tense, and I’m five seconds away from destroying something. I count in my head.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
My thoughts drift in and out with every number, and the anger fades further and further from my mind. After several minutes, I’ve calmed down enough to go downstairs to the kitchen and find something to eat. Like usual, the space is empty, and midday light slants in through the large glass doors leading out onto the large patio.
Once I reach the kitchen, I'm still pissed off and in no real mood to cook, so I throw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then stare out across the grass leading down to the woods. I close my eyes and relish the memories rushing back to me.
Bel running through the leaves, the scared little whispers she made when she thought I was close to catching her. The fear in her eyes and the sounds she made when I shoved her to her knees in the dirt. The blood on her skin, the tears tracking down her smooth cheeks. Beautiful. A true masterpiece of chaos and fear. She looked so sexy with my marks on her skin. I wish I could’ve had more time with her and left marks a little at a time until she was covered with them. Bruised and battered until I laid her down and showed her what a good girl she was. I wanted to praise her, tell her how beautifully she runs, how perfectly she fights me. To remind her that she'll never be able to escape me.