34. A Victory & An Unpleasant Confrontation #2
“You guys coming?” Qi asks, nodding towards where our parents must be waiting.
“Qi!” Sterling breathes out in recognition, eyeing him up and down like he’s a prize-winning horse.
It’s revolting to see the interest there and realize that even though Qi is eighteen, he doesn’t really look it. He still has enough youth in his face to pass for younger, and the visuals that would attract a fiend like this.
“Wow, look at how you’ve grown. I must say I was quite disappointed to hear that you hung up your competitive dancing shoes to be a mere cheerleader,” his praise turning into something wistful and almost disdainful by the end.
Confusion passes through Qi’s face as the meaning of Sterling’s words hits him.
“How do you know… any of that? I don’t even know you,” he says, tripping over how he knew Qi was a cheerleader, to knowing he danced competitively before, and even down to knowing the decision of changing his dancing focus.
“Right, of course,” he says congenially before holding his hand out towards Qi. “I’m Sterling Adair. I’ve watched you dance for years,” he finishes wistfully, something twisted and gross moving in his eyes and flushing down his skin while ogling Qi crudely.
Qi frowns at Sterling’s outstretched hand and leans into Tristan. “How? Why?”
“A talent such as yours, who could keep their eyes away from you? You were spellbinding—such a waste to trade that kind of talent in for something like cheerleading. Your name should have been in lights.
“If I’d known what you were considering, I would have offered to help.
I was always afraid that your parents would end up being too destitute to promote you properly.
I should have stepped in sooner. I could have made sure you shone where you belonged,” he says, almost pleadingly, while Qi steps even deeper into Tristan, barricading himself in the safety of his quarterback.
“I find it highly disconcerting that a grown man with no ties to Qi’s school would be watching him so intently at such a young age,” Tristan growls, a warning so deep in his voice that it has the hairs on my arms standing up.
Sterling finally gets the hint that Qi isn’t gonna shake his hand, and he lets it drop, his eyes widening as he takes in Tristan for what seems to be the first time.
There’s an almost longing expression on his face when he notices the tight hold Tristan has on Qi, before an ugly vein of jealousy streaks through, followed by a mask of malice and contempt.
“How sad for your families that their children harbor such unnatural tendencies that their bloodlines will die with you,” he expresses.
My lips curl disdainfully at the outdated notion that producing blood heirs is the most important way to keep a family pure.
The notion that only blood can make families thrive, rather than love and nourishment, will always disgust me.
So much of the bad that exists in these families comes from the repression and ridiculous standards set for reputation and production’s sake. It’s revolting.
“I feel sorry for your son that you harbor such ridiculous notions about what should make a parent happy.
I feel it's safe to speak for all of us when I say our children are strong, talented, and have found good people who love them wholly as they are without ridiculous expectations,” my dad says, having made their way to us.
His eyes have a coldness in them that’s rare for me to see. He’s angry and protective, knowing what this man is and having him enter any of his family’s spaces.
Sterling’s head snaps up to meet my father’s face, something ugly and cruel twisting in his eyes at realizing there’s no winning here and being thoroughly pissed at the revelation. His eyes move from my father, not even paying him enough mind to answer, before they land on Trevor’s.
“It’ll be devastating to watch the Donovan legacy end. Of course, there is no legacy with the rest of you, is there?” he sneers, thinking he’s being cruel and not realizing there isn’t a single person standing here that gives a damn about any of that shit.
“The Donovan legacy ended with my father. My life is my own, created by the paths I chose, just as my son’s life is his own and will be created by the paths he chooses.
Even building myself from scratch, I still surpassed you, despite your piggybacking off of the generations before you,” Trevor states.
His delivery isn’t cruel or sneering; it’s stated as fact. He’s not trying to hurt Sterling so much as pointing out that Sterling’s failings are inevitable and unchangeable. Something passes between them—the disdain from one, the intolerance of the other. No headway will be made between them.
“Well, I can see nothing can be accomplished here. I pity you and the disgusting abnormalities you seem to cherish so much,” Sterling sneers, taking a step backward as if to leave.
“I think there are far more disgusting abnormalities to be worried about, to be honest,” I point out angrily, but my dad reaches out and places a hand on my arm to stop me from saying more.
Our parents know what’s happening. They know what we’re investigating and why. Trevor has been keeping tabs to make sure no one else falls victim to Sterling, while Tristan, Cade, and I get the rest of the dirt on him. They plan to let us handle it, so long as no more victims arise.
But part of being successful is knowing I can’t give too much away, especially to the man in question. My father’s hand on my arm is his silent reminder of that. We can’t show our cards until the game is already won.
Sterling’s eyes travel across the lot of us, lingering long enough on Qi to have Tristan snarling at him menacingly, before he turns and leaves in a huff.
Not knowing what’s just happened, Kingston emerges from the locker room just in time to snag Sterling’s angry attention.
There’s a terse exchange between the two before Sterling’s arm snaps out and wraps around the back of Kingston’s neck, practically hauling him after him as he continues to hiss angrily at him.
Qiang is frowning at them, and my feet automatically take a step in their direction.
It’s not my business. I know it’s not my business.
Sterling is my enemy, and Kingston sure as fuck isn’t my friend, but there’s also this visceral knowledge that it’s wrong to let abuse happen in front of my face while I stand and do nothing.
Tristan holds up his hand to stop me from going any further.
“Not yet. It sucks, but if everything plays out as it should, we’ll be able to save Kingston from this, not just temporarily, but permanently.
Especially since stepping in right now will make it worse for Kingston later.
Abusers don’t like being called out, and Kingston isn’t in a position to stay away yet. ”
“What if we’re wrong?” I point out, not sure whether I’m asking about Kingston surviving long enough to be saved, or if he’s innocent enough to deserve saving.
“Then they’re both evil fuckers and deserve everything that’s coming to them,” Tristan assures me. “He won’t kill his son, Marcus. He still has an image to protect.”
“He killed his wife,” I mutter under my breath.
“She couldn’t produce heirs anymore, but Kingston can. She was expendable; he is not. Not yet,” Tristan says cruelly.
I can see it there in his eyes, the distaste of knowing everything he’s said is factual. That the world we live in is twisted up that much, and being reminded how Tristan hates this shit so much, it had him creating masks that are almost impossible to see through when he wears them.
I frown, knowing Tristan’s right before wrapping my arm around Qiang’s shoulders and focusing back on my family.
There are some lingering, disgruntled comments about what just went down, and Tristan’s got Qi pulled up so tight against him that I don’t know how the poor guy is breathing.
But I get it; that gross man just revealed another layer of his perversion towards Qi without realizing how much of what he’d said we understood.
Not only was he propositioned, but he was also unknowingly watched for years.
Qiang looks like they are holding back tears; there’s no way any of that was easy, especially with the unexpected seedy reveal. I pull them against me and leave a long, lingering kiss at their temple until their body shudders and slightly relaxes against me.
Soon. It’s the only soothing thought I have. Soon, we will have everything we need to pull the trigger and take that evil man down; we’re just waiting for the go-ahead from Cade.