Chapter Three
Clifton
As expected, the conversation with my father did not go well.
I managed to get out of there without saying anything I regretted, but now I slam the door of my building behind me and storm into the elevator, pressing the button for my penthouse.
I”d locked eyes with Emma when I left dad”s office and once again, I wish she’d been his kid instead of me. That would make life so much easier. All I want is to be free of his expectations. I”ve had enough of him making demands on my life and time. He doesn”t understand that I have my own dreams and ambitions. Of course, I hadn”t really gotten mad until he brought mom into the conversation. Still, I’d managed to keep my cool.
The elevator reaches my floor and I step off, making my way to my front door. The security system unlocks my door automatically, and the towering black panel with a long silver handle swings open, inviting me in.
I step into the spacious space and inhale deeply. Every bit of effort and planning I”ve put into this place has been to help me stay calm and remind me of mom. The mostly white space is relaxing and bright, vivid green plants fill white planters scattered about, and the ambient lighting can fool my brain into thinking I’m in the light of day even when it’s dark like it is now.
How long had dad chewed me out? Four hours? Five? And still he hadn’t said anything I hadn’t heard before, save one detail.
He’d told me that this time, his help came at a cost.
And when he told me the cost, I thought the price was too high.
So the bastard pulled out his phone and threatened to make a call to the judge and tell him that I’m refusing part of the agreement of my release.
I knew I was caught, and I listened to him ramble on about what a disappointment I turned out to be, how I should have been a stain on the sheets, how he wished my mother had followed his wishes to terminate her pregnancy.
Well, I love you, too, Dad.
That’s when he’d said the unforgivable thing about mom, called her a nasty four-letter word I refused to even think in conjunction with her memory and said he should have known she’d strap him with a kid he didn’t want, and he thought she got the last laugh, dying and leaving me with someone who never wanted me.
I know the face he presents to the rest of the world, but I also know the truth about him. The part that he doesn”t let anyone else see. I know enough secrets I could sink his empire, but I’d rather blow it all up with dynamite instead.
They will cover the floor to ceiling windows that offers a stunning view of the city and the mountains far off in the distance. Even though my father likes to say that I didn”t earn this place, I put in a lot of work and hours to get my penthouse, and his abuse should count as a full-time job.
Planting my hands on a metal tabletop decorated with my favorite Pinstripe Calathea that stands beside the taller leaves of my Monstera that rests on the floor beside the table, I stare out the window at the twinkling lights of the city.
But the beautiful view does not erase my father”s words, and I turn around and head to the kitchen, where I pour myself some whiskey. I don”t drink very often, but on particularly bad days, it”s nice to feel warm and fuzzy for a little while.
I”m sure it”s not healthy for me to need something to calm my nerves and drown out the sound of his voice in my head, but it’s an option and I’ll take it.
He feels like I”m throwing away everything he built for me, that I”m ungrateful and irresponsible. He even had the nerve to say that I”m breaking his heart as if he hadn’t spewed such vile thoughts.
I’m not sure the man even has a heart, and if he does, it’s probably not his. I’m sure it’s in a jar on a shelf somewhere and belonged to someone important so he can show off his power and ability to get what he wants.
I’ve lived a lie my whole life, and just when I thought I could break free, I dug myself in deeper. At least Emma wanted to understand and asked questions. My father acted like this is all I’ve ever been or done, totally discounting how good of a child I’d been for so long in a pathetic attempt to garner his life, affection, and time.
One thing is clear; he owns me and always has. I’m just another possession, though I’m the one that embarrasses him. That thought curves the corners of my lips up, and I gulp down my whiskey before pouring another.
The pleasant burning down my throat offers little comfort but the knowledge that soon I’ll feel warm and happy.
See, my father and Emma have me all wrong. It”s not that I don”t want to build a life; it’s that I want to create something that’s mine. Something he hasn’t touched. Something he can’t claim credit for. Even though I’m sure he’ll find a way - he always does.
I grew up and moved out, but I never escaped him.
My phone chimes to warn me someone is on my floor. I”m not expecting anyone and have no plans. Pulling my device outof my pocket, I glance at the screen to see who might be in my hall. My first thought is that my father must be here, but I see blonde hair, a blue blouse, and black skirt.
Great. He sent his terrier to do his dirty work. Of course he did.
With every intention to ignore her, I sit on my couch, facing the city lights, stretch an arm across the top of the cushion. With a deep breath, I take another drink.
She knocks again, but louder, then seems to realize I have a camera on her. “I know you’re in there, Clifton.”
Sure, she does.
“Your car is parked in your spot. Let me in.”
Not going to happen, little lady. If I want to get bit, I’d stick my hand in a pit of vipers.
“I know that you know I’m here. Just let me in.” She sounds annoyed, which further solidifies my need to not let her in.
With my drink in one hand and my phone in the other, I watch her through the camera. Despite the anger in her face and the frustration written on her features, I see something else there, too. Concern? No, that couldn”t be right.
”Clifton, open the damn door!” she yells.
Obviously, she has no patience. How does she manage being a lawyer with that much of a short fuse? Then again, I’d seen her in court, and she was always so calm, cool, and collected. I didn’t know how she could keep under such tight control and not give away anything.
“I think you’re lost. My dad lives across town.” As the words are relayed through the security system, I see her cross her arms and strike a defensive pose.
“I’m not here for your father, I”m here for you.”
Well, that was worth a try, but clearly wasn”t what I needed to say to get her out of here. “I have a phone you can call, you know.”
The second I say the words, I watch her lift her phone. My screen lights up and I refuse the call with a sense of joy in my heart. Maybe now she’ll get the message.
“Very funny, Clifton. You can’t ignore me forever.”
“Watch me,” I say with a smirk as I tab away from the security system and lean back on the couch. Tipping my head back, I gaze up at the tall ceilings and let emptiness consume me, before lifting my head enough to down the rest of my whiskey. I don’t need to leave my penthouse for any reason. I wonder if I can order up food or if she’ll make that difficult, too.
With a shrug, I sit, holding my empty glass and staring up. She’ll give up eventually. She has to.
But as she keeps knocking, alternating ringing the doorbell and talking to herself like a crazy woman, I wonder how long she plans to keep this up. My father must have really said something that frothed her up, or made sure she couldn”t leave until she did his bidding - whatever that was.
“Let me in - we need to talk.”
That phrase doesn”t inspire confidence, and the internal cringe that tugs in me leaves me wanting to throw up. “I have nothing to say to you,” I say through the security system.
“But I have things I need to say to you.” She sounds almost... desperate. Cute. “Just let me in, please.”
I weigh my options. On one hand, there is nothing good that can come from this conversation. On the other hand, she has said the magic word.
I hit the remote release button and the front door opens for her. I hear her walk up behind me and lift a single finger with my glass still in hand. “No lectures.” I couldn”t be more clear, but I bet she isn’t good with boundaries. Don’t ask me how I know.
“This place is beautiful.” She doesn”t sound enthralled, more like she’s simply stating the obvious. I like it. “So many plants.”
I lift both shoulders. “I like plants. Now, why are you here?”
“You upset your dad.”
I point her direction without looking. “Yes.” The lights of the city remind me of stars reflected on the surface of water like the place my mother had taken me as a child. Her family home on the lake. A place I’d never been back to since she passed away.
“You only get one dad,” she says, her voice disappointed.
“I know, they refused to return mine when I tried to exchange him for a better one.” I don’t know why I’m bothering. She just knows the amazing man who treats her like a daughter. Like everyone else, she’s never seen the rotten core of him.
“That’s awful, Clifton.”
I wave my index finger in a u-shape as if I’m conducting an invisible orchestra. “It’s the truth. You ever feel like you know someone, only to be totally wrong?”
“No. Are you drunk?”
“No.” Warm and comfortable, yes. Drunk, no. “Isn’t it your job to know people?”
She sighs, making her way toward the window and giving me a great view of her ass in that little skirt. But she is as off limits as someone could get and I’m not interested. Am I? “Look, I meant it when I said you need to do better-”
“But not when you agreed no lecturing,” I say with a wink as she turns to face me.
Her expression tightens and she moves close to me, her voice low and angry. “You’re so selfish and, and, childish!”
I arch an eyebrow, wondering if that’s the first time she’s ever insulted someone.
With a slight smile, I lean in even closer until I’m inches from her face. She seems uncomfortable but unwilling to be the first to back down.
“The second you resort to name-calling, you concede defeat.” I swear steam comes rolling out of her ears as her cheeks go pink. But her eyes betray her as her gaze drops to my lips.
Well, if she’s going to be so obvious, I might as well give her what she wants. Grabbing her jaw with a gentle hand, I press my lips to hers, my thumb gently touching the velvet skin at the corner of her mouth.
She pulls back with an angry grunt. “How dare you?” she asks, obviously flustered.
“You started it. I’m just finishing things.” And I know that I’ve effectively driven her from my home.
She storms out, no doubt never to return to my sanctuary.