39. Tyson
THIRTY-NINE
TYSON
The house feels different after she leaves.
Quiet.
Empty.
It feels off. Like something’s missing that wasn’t supposed to matter this much.
I stand in the kitchen longer than I should, staring at the spot where she sat at the counter just minutes ago—the same spot where she was splayed open for me last night.
Her iced coffee is gone, but I can still picture her there, eating her breakfast and drinking her coffee, looking at me like next to me was exactly where she wanted to be.
I drag a hand over the back of my neck as I let out a long sigh.
I’ve got to get it together.
I’ve known her a week.
It was one night.
One morning together.
Except it doesn’t feel like just that. It’s not even close.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and swipe to answer without even thinking about checking to see who it’s from.
“Hello,” I answer, pulling the phone from my ear to notice it’s from a blocked caller anyway.
There’s silence.
Then a throat clears. A sound I’d recognize anywhere. “You really going to make me chase you down?” My father’s voice is rough. It’s worn—tired—in a way it never used to be.
I lean back against the counter, my jaw tightening as I curse myself for answering without checking.
“I’ve been busy,” I clip.
“You’re my son. You should never be too busy to talk to me.”
I don’t take his bait, even though it’s hard not to.
“What do you want?” I ask, not bothering to hide the venom in my voice. I used to respect him. Hell, I looked up to him. But now, I wonder what I ever saw in the man who only wants to act like a father when it’s convenient for him.
“I need money. My money.”
At least he’s straight to the point with what he wants. He’s never asked me for money before, but then again, after I took over for him at the company, the only conversations we had were him saying horrible, vile things to me. He blamed me for everything, but never once did he ask for any money.
This is new.
My grip tightens slightly around my phone. “For what?” I ask.
“That’s not your concern,” he barks.
“It is if you’re asking me for it.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his scoff, the sound laced with irritation. “Don’t start acting like you’re above me,” he spits. “You built everything you have off what I started. Everything you have is because of me.”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “I didn’t build anything off what you started,” I respond, keeping my voice even. “I—and Winnie and Archer—just fixed what you were about to lose.”
There’s silence.
Then he lets out a low, humorless laugh that sends shivers down my spine. “Still telling yourself that?”
I swallow, trying not to let his words get to me. I’ve worked hard at realizing that I busted my ass for everything I have now. It isn’t because of him. It was despite him. “It’s the truth,” I respond, doing everything to keep my voice strong despite the doubt creeping into my mind.
“No,” he responds with another laugh. “It’s just what you need it to be to live with yourself after what you did.”
I begin to pace around the counter, hating the thoughts that now flood my mind. They’re ones I’ve done everything I can to get rid of in the time since everything went down with him. One simple call from him, and they all come flooding back.
“How much?” I finally ask, hating that I’m even humoring him.
There’s a pause, like he wasn’t expecting me to ask.
“Enough,” he responds immediately.
I continue to pace and shake my head. “That’s not a number.”
“Five hundred.”
I stop pacing. “Five hundred thousand?”
He laughs. “No, son, million. You can afford it.”
I try not to cringe at the condescending way he calls me son. I used to soak it in. Somehow, it used to feel like a compliment when he’d call me that. Now, it’s the furthest thing from it. “That isn’t the point,” I finally respond, wishing I’d never answered this call.
“It is to me. I need the money, and you have it. It’s my money to begin with. I wouldn’t need it if you hadn’t stolen my company from me and forced your mother to leave me and take me for everything I’m worth.”
“What’s it for?” I ask, running a hand through my hair as I can feel the familiar tension of unease building in my chest.
“You don’t get to ask me that,” he snaps.
“I do when you’re asking me for five hundred million dollars.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. The silence between us is long. So long that I pull the phone away from my ear and double-check that the call is still connected.
Finally, he clears his throat. “You owe me for stealing my company from me.”
The words land like a punch to the gut. A clean hit—or maybe a dirty one, coming from him.
I close my eyes. “You don’t get to use that against me,” I respond, my voice quieter than I’d like it to be when speaking to him.
“I built that company and gave you everything you needed to take it.”
“You were running it into the ground, limiting the success it could have because of a silly grudge.”
“You wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for me.”
“I wouldn’t have had to fix it if it weren’t for you. If you hadn’t gotten so greedy and blinded by a decades-old feud that you couldn’t look into the future.”
He lets out another sinister laugh that makes my skin crawl. “Oh, you think you’re better than me.”
Of course I’m better than him. He doesn’t set the bar very high, but I don’t say that out loud. There’s no reason to. Instead, I focus on the facts of what happened between us.
“I made the call you couldn’t,” I finally get out, my words true.
He was so blinded by the hate he had for Archer’s family that he was limiting the growth the family company could have.
I took the proof of what we could be to the board, and they decided they liked my vision—along with Archer and Winnie’s—more than my father’s.
He’s quiet for a few moments. I don’t think I like his silence, my stomach uneasy about what he could be coming up with. “If you don’t help me,” he finally begins, “I might have to get creative.”
My jaw tightens, and my spine straightens. I swear the blood drains from my face at his words. “What does that mean?”
“I still know the deals you’re trying to get done. I still hear things. You guys have a lot riding on them. A lot of people trusting you to keep things stable.” There’s a coldness to his tone. “It’d be a shame if someone started asking the wrong questions.”
There it is.
A threat.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I respond, hoping my tone remains confident and composed.
I don’t know what he’s referring to, but I don’t want to find out.
No matter how hard Archer and I try to lead the company completely by the book, we still inherited them from our fathers.
When we took over the company, we realized that a lot of things were done off the books; there were many details about certain deals and accounts we weren’t privy to.
Since we took over, we’ve tried to clean it up and make everything legitimate, but there still could be things we never discovered or loose ends we didn’t tie up.
Whatever those may be, they could still hurt future deals, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if they came back to affect the company.
“You’re not part of this anymore,” I add on.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know things investors might be interested in. Things the board might not love.”
My head falls backward. “You’d tank your own company for…what? To prove a point because I wouldn’t pay you when you should still have all the money in the world?”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “That company stopped being mine the second you and your pathetic sister took it from me.”
My jaw tightens as I see red at the way he talks about Winnie. She’s his daughter. I’m disgusted he could ever call her that. He’s no father to either of us.
He doesn’t seem to care that I don’t respond to him. “Five hundred,” he repeats. “And then I’ll disappear and leave you to run the company you never would’ve had if it weren’t for me.”
My heart hammers against my chest as I think through his words. “You were never going to disappear,” I realize.
“Give me the money and find out.”
“I’m not giving in to your threats,” I respond, trying to keep my voice composed. He needs to know he can’t scare me. I’m the one in control now. He lost it, and he isn’t getting it back.
“I’m not threatening you. I’m reminding you.” The line goes dead before he can say anything else.
I stare at the dark phone screen for a moment before slamming it onto the counter.
“Fuck,” I mutter, wishing I could just be done with my father once and for all.
There was a naive part of me that was hoping all the times my father was trying to call me was to make amends.
I let my mind wonder—hope—that maybe he’d turned over a new leaf and was ready to be the father I always wanted him to be.
I was wrong.
He needs money.
And he’ll threaten his only children—and the company that still bears his last name—to get it.
He hasn’t changed at all.
He’s the same man.
But there’s something new to him too. A new kind of desperation. And that makes me nervous. Desperation could make him dangerous.
My gaze drifts around the kitchen just as a knock sounds at the door. I sigh, remembering that Winnie had texted me asking if it was okay to stop by, and I’d told her yes after our conversation at the store yesterday.
I walk out of my kitchen and into the entryway and open the door for my sister.
She takes one look at me, and concern immediately washes over her. “What’s wrong?” she asks, taking a step inside when I gesture her in.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” She brushes past me like she owns the place. Which…she’s here every so often, helping me renovate and decorate, that she kind of does right now.
I hold my tongue, not wanting to tell her about the call with our father.
I want to shield her from him as much as I can.
As far as she’s aware, she has no idea he’s been trying to get a hold of me, and I don’t want her to find out.
I just have to pull myself together enough to play it cool with her today and find a way to get our father to leave us alone once and for all.
“What do you need from me today for house planning?” I ask, changing the subject as I follow her into the kitchen.
“What I want to know is why you seem off,” she responds, dropping her bag on the counter. “Did the date go badly last night? Did you mess things up with her?”
She studies me longer than I’d like, like she’s trying to read between the lines and figure out what I’m not saying.
“I didn’t mess anything up,” I respond, offended that she thinks I would.
She smiles. “So it went well?” she asks hopefully. Her brows lift slightly as she looks at me closely. “Then why do you seem off?”
The date was amazing and incredible, and the only reason I seem off is because our asshole father is threatening me for money, and you happened to knock two seconds after I found that out.
I keep my jaw shut, resisting the urge to let those words spill out.
My hesitation is all she needs. “So it went really well?” she prods.
I drag a hand over my face. “Stop fishing for details. Let’s talk about the house.”
“But it’s so hard to not fish for details when I’m seeing you blush over a girl for the first time.”
“I’m not blushing,” I get out.
“Yes, you are. Tell me.”
I sigh. I guess if I want to keep her in the dark about our dad, I need to give her details about Josie to satisfy her curiosity.
“Things with Josie are still new, but they’re different.”
My words catch her attention. Her expression shifts, less teasing now. “Different how?”
I sigh. For once, I’d rather talk about things to do with the house over this. It took a lot out of me to be honest and vulnerable with Josie last night. I don’t want to get into it too much with Winnie.
“Things with her are just easy,” I offer, thinking about our conversation last night. “I don’t have to think about things with her or feel the need to control it.”
She nods, like my words solidify everything she needs to know. “Then don’t.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m trying not to, but that’s not how I work. You know I hate the unknown. I’m not good at anything outside of work, really.”
“Maybe it’s time you try something different,” she responds. “It seems to be working out for you so far.”
I look away from my sister, my gaze finding the spot where Josie sat and had breakfast this morning. It felt so natural to have her there. I don’t know how long I stay quiet, but it’s long enough for my sister to nudge me with her elbow.
“Try not to overthink it. Just enjoy your time with her and see what happens.”
“Working on it,” I say with a long breath.
“Good. Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the house,” my sister quips. I allow the change in subject, happy to focus on the changes she’s making instead of my growing feelings for Josie and the pit in my stomach that I was left with after the phone call with my father.