Chapter 2
Ryker
I spot my father sitting at a small table outside the library on Ellington’s campus about fifteen minutes later. Despite seeing him a few weeks ago, he looks like he’s aged years. His black suit matches his jet black, slicked back hair and the black mustache that makes him look like a mob boss.
He doesn’t look up from the newspaper he’s reading as I take the seat across from him. My father emanates power and strength.
He clears his throat before speaking.
“Son,” he says coldly. I watch him as he sips his drink and stares at his paper, not even giving me a glance.
“Father,” I answer with the same coldness.
“It's been a while. How are things?” he doesn’t actually care. He’s only asking out of obligation so he can go back to my mom and report what I’ve told him.
“Same as always. Been busy,” I tell him. My father huffs.
“Busy, huh? Dean Ashby called me the other day.”
“Did he? And what did he have to say?”
My father went to Ellington University, as did my grandfather, and my great grandfather before him. Now, my brother and I attend.
My father has kept in contact with a lot of his peers from the university, especially Dean Ashby who he gets all of his intel on me from. He’s not as concerned about my younger brother, Logan since he’s the golden child and obviously can do no wrong.
“He mentioned your attendance is low,” he still hasn’t looked up from his paper, but I know exactly where he’s going with this.
“Yeah, this one class has been proving to be a challenge. It’s kept me up pretty late studying, so I’ve missed a few classes,” I lie.
“…And that your GPA has fallen below average.”
God admit. I knew I wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t know it was that bad.
A warm breeze blows a stray piece of my dark hair away from my forehead as I stare at my father, waiting for him to continue his lecture. There’s no doubt in my mind that he came here to talk about more than just my study habits.
“Just say what you came here to say, father,” I grind my teeth so hard it hurts.
He finally puts down the paper to look at me, his eyes full of something unidentifiable. He taps his index finger on the table a few times before speaking.
“You know how hard I worked to get you into this school, Ryker. Do you know how embarrassing it is to get a call from the dean telling me my son, my legacy, is failing? It’s unacceptable.”
His face is bright red and the air outside which was warm before turns scalding as my skin starts to burn with heat. “If you want any chance at a successful future with The Steele Corporation, you need to start taking this seriously,” I can’t help but roll my eyes.
A successful future? Is he for real right now? It’s one class. I’ll get my grade up, graduate, and get the hell out of town right after. No one said anything about needing a 4.0 or anything.
“It’s only the beginning of the semester. Don’t worry, father. Your perfect reputation won’t be tarnished. As long as I graduate, your legacy will live on,” I say with a sardonic tone. My father lays both arms on the table as he leans in to get closer. He speaks in a low, harsh tone that only I can hear.
“That’s the thing, son, ” he grits out the word like it’s hard for him to even say aloud. “If you keep going down this path, you won’t be graduating, and I will not use my power to help you.”
As if I would even ask him to. I don’t need his help. I never have.
“You haven’t been to see your academic advisor in weeks. You’ve missed more than half of your classes doing God knows what.”
He takes a deep breath, looking like he’s trying not to strangle me in front of the crowd of students walking by. Sitting back in his chair, he straightens his tie and buttons his suit jacket.
“You need to get your shit together, and fast,” he clears his throat. “You will attend your classes, every class, and you will get nothing short of a B plus in each of your courses, or so help me god, I will-”
“You’ll what? What will you do, father?” I ask, pushing him to finish the sentence. There’s nothing he can do. He glowers at me before standing and grabbing his coffee cup and paper off of the table.
“You don’t want to find out, Ryker.”
With that, he leaves me sitting there, watching him walk away, too stunned to move.