Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MARCUS
Despite not planning to stay the night, I did. We fell asleep on his couch and then stumbled to his bedroom at two in the morning. I slept terribly, a nightmare shaking me awake around five.
Jeremy’s scent fills my senses, and I breathe him in, calming my racing heart. Jeremy’s smaller frame is nestled into mine, his hair tickling my chin. He’s so warm, like summer sand on the beach. As much as I want to lie here and fall back asleep, I know I need to get home to shower and change.
I move my leg, and Toothless’s heavy lump lets out a chirp of protest.
Carefully, I roll Jeremy over, slide my arm from under his body, and climb out of bed. Even though I don’t remember, I must’ve taken my pants off when I joined him in bed because they’re in a pile with my phone on his floor.
I shiver as I get dressed, the morning chill in Jeremy’s apartment as unpleasant as the hint of daylight filtering through the bedroom window. As I tiptoe down the short hallway, I hear a thunk and a questioning meow as T shadows me.
I bend down, scratching his chin. “Sorry, I need to go,” I whisper. “Take care of him for me.”
Then I grab my coat and slip out of the front door.
I glance around furtively as I step onto the sidewalk, my breath escaping my chapped lips in white puffs.
The weekend parking hours on this street expired at five a.m., but thankfully, I don’t have a parking ticket.
I climb into my truck, starting it up and rubbing my hands together to keep them warm while the cab heats up.
A keen sense of guilt fills me. Leaving Jeremy like this feels icky, like a one-night stand, but at the same time, I need some space and time to think about everything, and I didn’t want to wake him.
I drive to the parking garage by the pub and grab my duffel bag from the back seat. Just as I exit onto the sidewalk, the clack of quick footsteps alerts me to a presence, and I freeze when a firm hand falls on the back of my neck, sending my pulse straight into my throat.
“Marcus,” my dad purrs in my ear. “I’m a bit put out that you didn’t show up for the Thanksgiving fundraiser.”
Relief is hot and quick. It’s not Ryan.
I scoff. “No, you’re not.” He’s never seemed to care if I was part of those social functions, even after we agreed that I would join him at Skynet.
His grip tightens, and he yanks me backward and slams my back against the brick wall. The move is sudden and so out of character that all I can do is stare. He’s never laid a hand on me. It hurts my feelings, which just makes me angry.
His eyes have an unhinged look about them, like his sanity dances on the edge of a knife. “I am, actually. You are now a part of this company, officially or not, and I expect you to attend big events.”
I almost say, “Since when,” but the words get stuck in my throat.
He lowers his voice menacingly. “Frankly, it’s embarrassing, and just the type of shit that Ryan will harp on if he feels like you’re not committed to your future with Skynet.”
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I say, shaking free of his grip.
“I’m sorry the fundraiser wasn’t an option.
I told you I was sick.” I glare at him. His dark hair is slicked back, and he looks like some sort of Bond villain in a very expensive three-piece suit.
My gaze drops to his tie, silky and pitch black.
He used to wear colorful ties before my stepmom died; ties we bought him for Father’s Day and Christmas.
“This bullying bullshit is entirely unnecessary. You should leave that to your business partner.”
His gaze darkens. “Watch your tone, son.”
I run a hand through my tangled hair, exasperation and tendrils of betrayal twisting in my chest. “Can you just tell me what you want?”
His face relaxes somewhat. “I’ve set up a meeting with Sabrina and the rest of the board today.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Today? I have things I need to do at the pub.”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid whatever it is will have to wait. You’re to be in the office in full business attire by seven.” My brain rebels at the order. When I don’t immediately respond, he continues, “I hope you’re not having doubts about this, Marcus.”
I swallow. Something feels off about this whole situation, and it’s not just the idea of my father forcing me into an arranged marriage. The power struggle with the board makes me uncomfortable. I wish like hell I could tell him to go fuck himself and be done with the situation.
My father’s gaze narrows, as if he can read my blasphemous thoughts, and it makes me feel small and vulnerable, like always. I fucking hate it. And I hate that some part of me still wants to appease him. God forbid I let my father down.
“I called Sebastian this weekend.”
My eyes snap to his icy blue ones, the only feature he shares with my brother. He’s gauging my reaction like a predator.
“What?” Anxiety seizes my limbs, but I struggle to stay outwardly calm.
“He was pretty hostile at first. I won’t repeat what he said.”
“I’m surprised he answered the phone,” I mutter.
“I congratulated him on the second pub location. Told him I was surprised that you both could afford an expansion.” My father rubs his chin.
“He seemed pretty cocky about all the success you’ve had.
I’d hate to encourage him to do some research.
After all, Skynet’s involvement with Brothers’ Beer & Bourbon is public record.
Just one little search away.” He gives me a toothy smile, like he didn’t just threaten my brother. Again.
His betrayal chokes me, tugging on my heart like a child begging for attention. “You know you’re no better than Ryan, right? You don’t have to be this guy. I know it’s not you.”
He cocks his head, giving me a look like I’ve lost my mind. “I’m not like Ryan.”
He doesn’t see it, but why would he? In that moment, I see that he hasn’t been the guy little Marcus idolized for years, if he ever was at all. The realization tastes bitter, but I feel a bit freer as I stare at him. Like I’ve let part of my old self go.
“If you say so, Dad.”
“I’m protecting your future—our future—by any means necessary.”
“How selfless of you,” I reply, my tone dry.
“So, seven?” he confirms with a raised eyebrow, and I nod. Martin’s eyes travel down my body, like he’s just noticing me for the first time. “What’re you wearing?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of distaste. I glance down at the shirt Jeremy gave me. “Since when are you a Mariners fan?”
“I support all our local teams,” I say vaguely. “It’s good for business when you own a sports pub.”
“I really wish you hadn’t let your brother take the lead on this little venture. You would have run something classier.”
“Vancouver and Seattle thrive on beer and flannel, Dad. As much as you hate it, I think Sebastian and I made the right call.”
He waves at me dismissively. “I’m sure you’re right.”
The praise, as small as it is, lights me up, but it’s not as bright as it used to be.
I step away from him, needing more distance between us.
It’s strange seeing him like this, despite the way our relationship has devolved in the last three years.
I don’t remember him being this cold and condescending when I was younger, but maybe I just chose not to see it because I looked up to him.
Now, I feel simmering resentment. The control he has over me is unbearable.
“Are we done here?”
My father nods. “Yes, see you soon.” Then, he turns on his heel and marches back up the street.
I stare after his retreating form, and I’m reminded of my stepmother’s funeral. The minute her body was in the ground, he fled in the same abrupt manner. I empathized with him then, but I don’t now.
I trudge back to my condo, my shoulders hunched. I pull out my phone and type a quick text to Tristan asking him to help Jeremy with whatever he needs since I’ll be coming in late. Then I close the app and slide my phone back into my pocket, turning up the block.
Once I’m home, I take a hot shower, finally allowing myself to relax. I press my forehead against the cool tiles, my mind falling back into the blissful weekend I had with Jeremy. What I wouldn’t give to just relive it over and over again in an infinite loop.
I get out and dry off, then use an electric razor to trim my beard to barely-there stubble—it’s the closest I’m willing to get to clean shaven.
Walking into my closet, I sift through the suits I hardly ever wear.
My dad gets me one for Christmas every year—has since I was eighteen.
He always claimed that they would prepare me for when I inevitably joined him at Skynet.
Seb used to joke about Dad’s delusions of grandeur because we both knew that we were going into business together.
Back then, I never could have predicted that our father would eventually blackmail me into accepting a role with him that, looking back now, I never truly wanted.
I button my shirt and grab some silver cufflinks before shrugging on my suit jacket.
I glance at the adjoining door to my pottery studio.
My stepmother taught me everything, and I loved helping her craft bowls and vases and plates.
It was just a hobby for her, but it became an escape for me.
It’s the only thing that relaxes me when life becomes overwhelming.
I stare at myself in the mirror.
I rub my chin, frustrated that I shaved my beard so short.
It’s not me. I like it longer now. I sigh, feeling itchy in my own skin.
I’d blame it on my newfound feelings for Jeremy, but this restlessness started creeping into my soul way before I started questioning my sexuality.
It started a couple of years ago when I realized how unhappy I was with the trajectory of my life and the role I play as everyone’s savior.