Chapter 32
Felix
Tabitha Ellison looks like a meaner Kathy Bates with a constellation of moles on her chin that resembles Orion’s Belt. Her home is grand, but not in an ostentatious way like the monstrosity that is the Mayor’s Mansion. It’s elegant, with just the right amount of panache.
My father has always solved problems by throwing money at them, which is why we are at yet another fundraising event, even though the election is only weeks away.
Tabitha Ellison comes from old money, and she’s a snooty old bitch. Naturally, she loves my father.
I can hear his voice bellowing in the grand ballroom, bemoaning the plight of the workers having to finance the shirkers.
Normally, I just coast through these painful ordeals, but I’ve been tasked with also giving a speech tonight.
I don’t want to give a speech, and I did everything in my power to get out of it. Apparently, Father’s poll numbers reached their height right after our fake hug on the news.
Which means I’m suddenly an asset and needed at all of these terrible functions.
Robert stands at the door, listening to every word that leaves my father’s mouth, waiting for my cue. I plop down on a sofa and sip from a glass of water on a table.
Pinching the bridge of my nose with one hand, I use the other to retrieve the phone from my pocket. I scan the speech, making sure I know it word-for-word. Mayor Hargrove does not tolerate mistakes, so I need this to be perfect.
My father is a man who sticks to his word. You can count on him, trust him. He’s been by my side through thick and thin, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.
(turn to Mayor Hargrove)
I love you, Dad.
Yes, he dictated stage directions. If Father could somehow inhabit my body to deliver the speech himself, he would.
Robert scurries toward me, an excited look plastered on his face that almost hides the anxiety beneath it. “Alright. You’re on!”
I make jazz hands and say, “Time to razzle dazzle,” and he looks like he wants to choke me.
He doesn’t. I could take him, anyway.
Instead, he strides to the entryway of the ballroom, with me right behind him.
The door swings open, and I see my father standing before a group of people awaiting my arrival.
Father motions to me with his hand, like the grand unveiling of a wedding cake, and says, “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he pauses, his face morphing into a look of tearful pride, “my son.”
Damn, he’s good. I almost believed him.
I walk to where he stands, he hugs me (gross), and then sits down next to Mrs. Ellison, leaving me alone to give this heinous speech.
Ornate chairs form a semi-circle in the space, with me at the center. The lights above are a thousand degrees, and beads of sweat pour down my forehead. The audience before me sits quietly, waiting for me to begin.
“Thank you so much, Father, and thank you, Mrs. Ellison, for hosting this event in your immaculate home. It’s a privilege to stand before you this evening to discuss one of my heroes…”
The speech drags on, and I mentally pat myself on the back for having the stomach to utter some of these sentences. I reach the moment when I need to dramatically turn to him and say, “I love you, Dad.”
Mind you, I’ve never called him “dad” in my entire life, so the word already feels awkward in my mouth.
“He’s been by my side through thick and thin, and I wouldn’t be where I am without him.”
Dramatic turn.
“I—”
The words get caught in my throat, and a sudden choking fit comes on.
I slap my chest, trying my best not to hack up a lung, but the coughing continues. Like, really continues.
Alarmingly so.
What in the hell am I even choking on? Saliva?
Lies, you fool.
Oh. Right.
Not a word can get past, and soon, my eyes start to tear up. Robert comes to my side and slaps me on the back, but that only makes it worse.
The coughing morphs into something that sounds closer to a wheeze, and someone else hurries over with a glass of water. I take a sip and then—
Oh. My. God.
Everything I ate that day lands on the floor, and the people watching gasp. Ladies shriek, men groan, and Mrs. Ellison rises to her feet and begins calling for her servants to clean up the mess.
I look around at the catastrophe I’ve created, completely frozen where I stand. I begin apologizing, over and over. Mrs. Ellison just waves her hand, dismissing me. I don’t dare to look at my father because I can’t even imagine what his face looks like.
I run back to the room I was waiting in, shutting the door behind me, and amble to the couch. Tears fall down my cheeks as I rub my head, trying to understand what in the holy hell just happened to me.
My cheeks are inflamed. I just vomited in front of a room full of people.
The door slams open, shaking me to my core, and there’s Father, red-faced and shaking with rage.
“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know—”
“SHUT UP!” His words echo throughout the room, and a heavy feeling presses down on my chest. He marches toward me, rage wafting off him in heaps.
Terrified, I rise from the sofa, trying to escape him.
“You couldn’t even say it,” he says in a low, hoarse voice. “You couldn’t even fake it. Well, the feeling is mutual, you pathetic worm. I should have known better than to let my faggot son speak in front of donors.”
My gut coils, his words cutting me like a knife. He’s right in front of me, and I brace myself, waiting for the slap across the face that I know is coming. Instead, he takes the water that sits on the table and throws it in my face. “Leave. I need to go fix your mess.”
He stands there, his face quaking with anger, then screams, “NOW.”
I run to the front door, feeling the tears fall, and leave the house. The car that took us here sits in the driveway, but I bolt right past it and head toward the main stretch. I run, crying and panting, until my legs burn, and I can run no more. Somehow, I managed to run right to Cafe Bomberino.
I pull out my phone and call Torren.
Torren
Tobias sets the drink down and leans forward in his chair, brushing his thumb over the skull rings that adorn every finger on his left hand.
“So, Felix knows everything.”
I lower my eyes in shame because he has every reason to be pissed at me. When we burned the house down—along with all of the evidence of our slaughter—we made a promise never to tell anyone.
Even high-ranking members of the Hellcats don’t know all of the details—just that we killed our parents. They don’t know we killed nearly a dozen men along with them.
Tobias stares at me, his gaze like a physical force that presses against me. “It didn’t occur to you to omit just a little bit of information from this dramatic confession?”
I clear my throat. “I wanted to tell Felix the truth.”
“Why?”
My throat closes, but I manage to push the words out. “Because I care about him.”
When I look up, his head is cocked to the side in curiosity. “Continue.”
Jesus Christ. “Something reminded me of the Kays, and I lost it. Felix took care of me. The next day, I told him everything, partly to explain, but also because it had been boiling inside me and I needed just to get it out. I told him because he matters. Because—”
My voice gives out, the magnitude of what I want to say making me speechless.
I stutter, trying to get the words out because I want to say them so bad, but it’s just so scary. “I-I think I love him.”
The breath leaves me at once, my heart beating with a force that sends a vibration through the rest of my body.
Tobias stares at me in awe. “Really?” he asks.
I gasp, sucking in the air and releasing a surprised laugh. “Yeah.”
Tobias leans back, studying my face before asking, “What does it feel like?”
I settle into my body, really examining how it all feels. “Terrifying.”
Tobias laughs, then narrows his eyes at me. “What about the impulses you were worried about? How will you handle them?”
“I don’t think that will be a problem anymore.”
He nods, then slaps his thighs. “Well, I guess if you were going to tell anyone that we’re homicidal maniacs, it only makes sense that it’s your loverboy with a cute ass.”
I bark out a laugh that echoes in his office. “That ass is off limits,” I warn him.
“You know I’d never dream of it,” he replies in a very serious tone. I know he’d never do anything like that. Not to me, anyway.
“I’m just kidding. It is a cute ass.”
He nods, a little smirk creeping onto his face. “So, will you bring him to my Halloween party?” Tobias asks, waggling his brows.
His Halloween party is part costume ball, part orgy, and I’m not sure I want to take Felix. “We’ll see.”
“C’mon,” Tobias whines. “I want to see him again—congratulate him on taming the Torren Kay.”
I huff a sardonic laugh. “Well, I haven’t actually said the words to him yet.”
He raises a brow. “You should work on that.”
Yeah…
My phone buzzes, and when I check, I see it’s the man of the hour.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Felix says with a shaky voice.
I know instantly that something is wrong. The tentativeness of his voice, his shaky breath, none of it sounds like Felix. “What is it? Talk to me.”
He clears his throat. “Um…am I interrupting?”
“Of course, not. What is it?”
Felix takes a deep breath. “I’m in front of Cafe Bomberino’s. Could you pick me up?”
I’m out of my chair in an instant, hurrying out of the office, with Tobias hot on my trail. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Sit tight.”
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I stop, stunned by how broken he sounds. “What happened?” I press.
There’s a pause, followed by a sigh. “We’ll talk when you pick me up, okay?”
“On my way.” I hang up the phone and shove it into my pocket.
“What’s up?” Tobias asks.
“I don’t know, but he sounded off. Something’s wrong.”
“Need back-up?” he asks. “I can have some of the guys follow.”
We walk down the hallway, and I shake my head. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know.”
Tobias nods. We descend the stairs, and I bolt to the exit, but Tobias says, “Hey!” I stop and turn to him. “I’m really happy for you, Torren.”
I smile and tap my fist on my heart. “Thank you.”
“Tell me if you need back-up.”
“Will do.” Once outside, I board my bike and twist the throttle, racing down side streets to get to Felix.