Chapter 39
Ryker
I rub my temples with my hand in attempt to alleviate some of the stress as my father’s grating voice seeps through the speaker of my Escalade. We’ve been on the phone for less than ten minutes and he’s already managed to piss me the hell off.
I don’t know what he doesn’t understand. I don’t want anything to do with The Steele Corporation while he’s in charge. I don’t want to work for him or under him, I want to run it. I want to bring it back to what my grandfather envisioned because it surely isn’t what my father’s turned it into.
As long as my father is CEO, he will keep running it to the ground until my grandfather’s legacy is completely tarnished, and I can’t let that happen. I don’t know how, but I will take over the company one day, and my father won’t have a say.
“Who is Guinevere Sharpe?” my father’s accusatory voice barrels through the car speaker. My jaw tenses and a shiver runs down my spine. How the fuck does he know about Gwen?
My finger taps against the steering wheel repeatedly as I think of something to tell him since I can’t really tell him she’s the girl I’m slowly beginning to realize might just be my entire life.
“No one. Why?” I ask, hoping I sound as nonchalant as I meant to. I don’t need my father to have any more reasons to bitch at me. A girl would certainly be a means for his bitching. Especially because he wants me to marry someone from another Elite family.
Slow down, Ryker. No one said anything about marriage yet. It’s way too early to even think that about that as a possibility. Except, I’m realizing now that Gwen is the only woman I’ve ever even considered marrying.
“Dean Ashby notified me that you’ve been seen with her quite often around campus,” his rough voice sounds irritated. “You need to be focusing on school and the Elite, Ryker. Not some gold-digging whore who’s only with you for your money.”
My blood boils at his dig against Gwen. He doesn’t even know her. How could he make assumptions about a woman he’s never even met?
I want to defend her. To tell my dad to fuck off and to never talk about her like that again. But I have to play this smart. If he knows Gwen and I are involved in any capacity, he’ll try to get rid of her. I won’t let that happen.
“I’m focused, Father. Everything is under control,” I assure him through gritted teeth.
“Good,” he says gruffly. “Your mother is looking forward to seeing you boys for Thanksgiving. You’ll be there, yes?” he asks as if I even have a choice. If I did, I’d stay at the Elite Mansion and avoid home at all costs.
I sigh. “Yes, Father. I’ll be there.”
“Alright. See you soon, Son,” he says, hanging up the phone quickly.
My head falls forward and hits the horn on my steering wheel causing it to blare loudly, but I don’t have the will to move.
A knock on my window brings me out of my post-father phone call funk. I hoped it would be Gwen, but Mason’s face peers in at me instead.
He points in a downward motion indicating for me to roll the window down. Rolling my eyes, I do so reluctantly.
Looking him over, his hair is disheveled, and he appears like he just woke up, even though its one in the afternoon, but our game isn’t until later, so I guess he doesn’t have a reason to be up.
“Dude, do you mind? You’re waking up the entire block,” Mason groans as he runs a hand through his hair.
“It’s one. The only person still sleeping was you,” I grumble.
“Not anymore,” Mason mumbles under his breath. “What are you doing laying on your horn like that?” he asks.
I grunt as I close the window before opening the door, causing Mason to jump back. He holds his hands up as if surrendering.
“My father called,” is all the explanation I give him before storming passed and entering the mansion.
Mason’s footsteps follow close behind me as we make our way to the second floor. Pat, Holland, and Logan sit in the living room watching football, and their heads turn when they hear Mason and I enter.
“What jackass was laying on their horn out there?” Holland leans his head back over the couch to look behind him while I grab a water from the fridge.
Mason throws a thumb over his shoulder at me, a small grin tugging at his lips. I’m glad he finds this amusing. Holland’s gaze moves over to me, and Pat finally looks away from the TV long enough to assess me.
Pat’s eyes move over me, and his eyes narrow in question.
“You good?” he asks, his voice gruff and slightly concerned. He’s a good guy, he always has been. He’s been there for me through a lot of my dad’s bullshit, and I’ve been there for him when his dad is being an ass.
He understands where I’m coming from more than Logan does, since Logan is completely okay with the way dad talks to him and with what’s expected of him.
Logan hasn’t even looked away from the game to glance at me, even though I’m sure he knows why I’d be pissed off. It’s not hard to guess. Not much gets me riled up, but my father knows how to really get under my skin.
I nod. I don’t really need to rehash everything that was said. It’s all the same every time. Him calling me a disappointment and telling me everything I’m doing is wrong, telling me he wishes I was more like my brother, that I should respect him more for everything he’s done for me.
I’m aware I grew up quite well. I’m aware that there are people out there that would kill to have what I have. But I’d give it all up if I could just have a normal relationship with my father.
My grandfather would be incredibly disappointed in who my father has become, I know he would.
Dad is selfish, he’s cruel, and he’s always one step ahead of everything. When I was eighteen, I thought I’d go away to college and be free of him, but it only got worse. He got more demanding of my responsibilities as a Steele. He started watching my every move, making sure I was keeping out of trouble.
He’d even visit the campus under the guise of visiting old Elite brothers or Dean Ashby. But I know he was checking up on me. Even if he never made it obvious, it was obvious to me.
The fact that he mentioned Gwen by name has my nerve endings on fire. I can’t believe he’d have Dean Ashby watching me that closely. I mean, I can believe it, but I don’t want to. I bet he doesn’t have him watching Logan. My eyes roll involuntarily.
He called Gwen a whore. He referred to her as a gold digger. How fucking dare he talk about her like that. He knows nothing about her.
“You don’t look good,” Holland says, his brow raised.
“I’m fine,” I snap. This makes Logan finally look back at me, his brows furrowed, and his lips pulled into a frown.
Holland and Pat exchange a glance before turning back around to the TV. Logan keeps his curious eye on me though, no doubt trying to figure out what my father could have said to piss me off so much.
I take a long sip of water before Mason speaks up again. This time, not about my phone call or why I’m pissed.
“Weston U’s fullback told Teddy that Walsh is gunning for you tonight, man,” he grins wildly at me. Shit.
Weston U has a good team. We’ve played them several times before, and they play rough. They’re dirty and they love to shit talk. I also have issues with their fly-half.
Connor Walsh is a dick. He’s an asshole who loves to get in my face because I slept with his girlfriend last semester.
To be fair, I didn’t know they were dating. She’d told me she was single, and I’d never seen them together, so the thought never even crossed my mind.
Even if it did, I probably wouldn’t have cared. Their relationship is their business, not mine. The girl came to me for a good time, and I gave her one. That’s it. It’s not my fault she wasn’t satisfied with her boyfriend.
The difference between Connor Walsh and I is that I can put the past in the past, for the most part, and focus on the game. He can’t, and that might give our team the advantage. He’ll be so focused on taking me down that he’ll screw over his own team.
I shrug cooly, brushing it off.
“Walsh doesn’t scare me,” I tell Mason.
“He’s a pussy. He won’t try anything,” Holland calls from over the back of the couch.
“Even if he did,” Pat chimes in as he stands from his spot on the couch. He walks over to me and his hand lands on my shoulder. “We’ve got your back.”
I swallow hard. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without these guys.
“Thanks.”
“Ellie says Gwen will be at the game tonight,” Holland tells me with a wink. My heart pounds in my chest and the familiar feeling of electricity buzzes through me at the sound of her name.
She’s coming to the game? The last time she game to a game, that dickhead Davis tried to threaten her, and I swear to God if I see him again, I’m going to fucking kill him.
Would he be dumb enough to show up to one of my games to talk to Gwen? I don’t know, probably. But if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay the hell away.
I have to keep my head in the game. I can’t be distracted by douchebags like Walsh and Davis. I already have to deal with Ty Manning, and honestly, he’s an even bigger douchebag than them.
“Will she?” I ask noncommittally. The guys know somewhat how I feel about Gwen. I haven’t told them much, but I know they can tell how my mood shifts after I’ve hung out with her. I’m not sure if Gwen has told her roommates about us, or what she’d even tell them.
I haven’t made anything official, there is no label, but I feel like the other night we both felt a shift. We know this isn’t just simply fucking anymore. This thing between us is more. I know she feels it. She wants me just as badly as I want her.
“Yeah, her, El, and Barkley. Sounds like it was actually Gwen’s idea. Any idea why?” Holland asks tauntingly. I roll my eyes and flip him off.
Logan looks up from his phone, making eye contact with me.
“Are you two a thing now?” he asks, and he seems genuinely curious. I hop onto one of the barstools at the counter, leaning my back against the edge and propping my forearms on the surface.
I shrug. “Yeah,” I say confidently, making the decision for the both of us. Pat chuckles to himself.
“Does Gwen know that?” he asks, and Mason guffaws, giving Pat a fist bump.
“Funny, Samuelson. Real funny.”
No, she doesn’t. But she will. After the game tonight, I’m going to make it official.
Gwen’s the type of girl who likes tradition. And I’m certain that includes putting a label on what we are. It’s not something I would have ever considered before meeting her, but I would do anything for Gwen.
I decided Gwen was mine a long time ago, even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. Fuck what my dad thinks, and fuck what anyone else says.
No one is going to stop me from having her.