Jethro
DAMN HER.
Fuck her.
She was worse than my fucking father with her manipulation and guile.
I needed a session.
For the first time since I’d turned eighteen, I needed help. I wouldn’t be able to fix myself on my own. I hated to do it to her. It was the epitome of cruel.
But the only person who could help me remember why I couldn’t let go of the ice in my veins was my sister.
Jasmine.
I’m a Hawk. Remember that fucking fact and own it.
Stalking through the house, I tried to find my father. I didn’t want to do this. I hated that we used our own flesh and blood this way. But I had no choice.
Not if I wanted to remain strong.
Not if I wanted to remain true.
A child was the product of his upbringing. They had certain obligations to live up to, expectations to obey, and scripts to follow. Elders knew better.
It was time to embrace my life path completely, rather than fight against it.
I was done fighting against it.
It was too fucking hard.
He’d told me it would only bring confusion and pain.
He was right.
Time to stop fighting and become my father’s son.
Once and for fucking all.