5. Kase Madoxx
Kase Madoxx
B eing at this damn restaurant with my pops and his girlfriend, formerly known as his mistress, was the last thing I wanted to do tonight.
But the man was persistent. When he wanted to play Daddy of the Year , he didn’t stop until you sat at his damn table.
I glanced around the place, all dim lighting and overpriced seafood, where the staff looked you up and down like they were mentally checking your net worth.
Malia was already seated when we got there, posted next to my father like she belonged, real smug, real polished, real damn annoying.
Her nails matched her lip liner, both blood red, and she kept flashing that “I won” smile like anybody wanted the damn prize.
I couldn’t stand that woman. Refused to give her a hug or anything close to respect, out of loyalty to the queen who brought me into this world.
My mom was devastated after the divorce.
Pops barely flinched. Just went and upgraded to a younger woman, like that made him more of a man.
Shit, my mother did everything so he could live out his dream and rise up, while he barely did that because he was always on the road and not giving a damn about anyone but himself.
Shit, maybe I wasn’t much better.
Messing with Denise, knowing damn well she had a husband... maybe part of me wanted to ruin someone else’s shit like my family got ruined. It was like some broken piece of me was still pissed off from growing up watching my mom cry while our father played house somewhere else.
Jace slid into the booth across from me, bumping my knee like he already felt me heating up.
He was supposed to be on a drive that evening, but when I told him Pops requested a “family dinner,” he pushed it back.
Said he didn’t trust me to behave. He was a smart man.
Compared to Jace, I was more vocal about our father being ain’t shit and not doing anything for us, other than providing.
Pops was already sipping brown liquor like he was the one under pressure. “So,” he said, smoothing his napkin across his lap, “how’s the new club doing?”
“Solid,” I said, leaning back. “Opened strong.”
“And Voltage?”
“Still running. I don’t miss.”
He chuckled, real proud of himself, then looked over at Malia. “Told you. Boys got the hustle. Came straight from me.”
I smirked, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “You gave me guilt money and a broken name. The hustle? I built that on my own.”
The table went still. Even Malia’s eyes grew big, like she wasn’t sure if I was joking. Truthful? I wasn’t. And I didn’t care to be. I glanced at Jace, who raised a brow but didn’t say a word.
Pops leaned back slow, drink in hand. “That’s supposed to mean something?”
I stared dead at him. “You handed me Voltage to make up for missing half my life. But I built Knights with my bare hands. That’s the one that means something to me. You didn’t build me, old man. You just gave me something to clean up.”
“Yo…” Jace muttered under his breath, eyes bouncing between us.
But I wasn’t done. I couldn’t stop.
“You show up when it’s convenient. You play dad when it gets you praise. Meanwhile, I had to learn how to be a man with no blueprint.”
“Wait a damn minute,” my father barked, slamming his fist on the table. “I worked hard for you and your brother!”
“No,” I said calmly. “That was our mother. I don’t remember you coming to any events or tossing a damn ball with us when you were free.
But I do remember you doing charity events, telling other people’s kids to be the best and do right, but you couldn’t give us that same encouragement, and we’re your damn kids. ”
My mouth was running on its own, and for some reason, I didn’t want to stop it.
Malia cleared her throat, her polished mask slipping just a little. “Kase, maybe this isn’t the?—”
“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand without even thinking. “Don’t act like you didn’t break up a home and upgrade your title. You’re not innocent in this. You just lasted longer than the rest.”
Jace sat up straighter, looking like he was debating whether to sip his drink or drag me out the booth before things got worse. But all he did was sit there, because even if he felt I shouldn’t be so damn truthful, he knew it was the truth.
Pops narrowed his eyes. “Where the hell is all this coming from? I knew your mother was turning y’all against me.”
I frowned genuinely, confused. “I don’t know,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“I just feel like… telling the truth tonight. And the one thing my mother didn’t do was turn us against you.
Shit, nigga, you did that. ‘Cause you a shitty husband and father. While Jace got the caring parts of our mother, I got the selfish traits. Just like you. And I hate it.”
And that’s when it hit me, I always talk slick. But this? This was different.
This wasn’t just honesty. It was like somebody unscrewed my throat and let years of resentment fall out without warning.
I looked down at my hands. They weren’t shaking, but something inside me was.
Like my body knew what my mouth didn’t, I couldn’t fake it anymore.
So, I got up, walked out, and didn’t say a damn word, because I didn’t want to be bothered with the lame excuses and bullshit.
I strolled toward my sports car, key fob in hand, as Jace trailed behind me.
The second I unlocked the doors, he caught up.
I sighed, already irritated, and turned to face him.
We looked so much alike that people always swore we were twins, until they paid attention.
That’s when they saw how different we really were.
I moved like I owned the world. Jace? He still gave a damn about it.
“Yo,” he said, breath tight. “What happened back there, man?”
I shook my head, jaw clenched. “I can’t deal with that nigga Chase Madoxx right now.”
“He’s our father, Kase.”
“Yeah? And where was that title when we needed it?” I stepped in closer, voice low. “Now he wanna pull up and act like some damn patriarch? That ship sailed. I’m twenty-seven. You twenty-six. We grown. We had to figure out how to become men with our dad living in the house.”
Jace looked down, then back up. “You right. But… part of me still wanted to hear what he had to say.”
I scoffed. “Why? So he can dump a bunch of sorry-ass excuses like that’s supposed to patch up years of being a shitty father?
He missed birthdays, school plays, and both of our graduations.
But you know who didn’t ?” I pulled out my phone and turned the screen toward him, letting the image speak for itself, my lock screen lit up with a photo of our mother.
“Ma showed up. She’s the real one.”
Jace rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not saying I forgive him. I just… I guess I still wanted him to see me. Say something. Anything.”
I stared at him, and for a second, he wasn’t my grown-ass brother.
He was that little boy sitting on the porch wearing our father’s baseball jersey, waiting for a limo that never came.
Chase Madoxx cared more about baseball and fans than his own blood.
That used to break me as a kid. But as a man?
I refused to keep begging for the attention of a ghost.
“Fuck him. And his time.”
Jace’s eyes softened. “You always been colder than me.”
“Or maybe you just never learned how to stop bleeding for people who don’t even notice the stains.”
That hit him, but he didn’t argue.
“Go back in there then,” I added, “If you wanna keep beggin’ for attention from a man who can’t remember our birthdays, but knows every baseball stat in the damn league.”
“There you go again,” he said, voice rising, “acting like you don’t have any feelings.”
“I do,” I said sharply. “You. Mom. And maybe… Blyss.”
Why the hell did that just come out my mouth?
He smirked. “Wait— you like Blyss ?”
“Nah, I’m not goin’ there with you.” I pulled the door open. “Get in your car. Go be with your girl.”
With my final words, I climbed into my car and pulled out the parking lot with heat crawling up the back of my neck and my emotions outta control.
See, I wasn’t the emotional type. Never had been.
But sitting at that damn table with my father and the woman he threw our family away for had pulled something outta me I didn’t even know I was still holding onto.
Shit, I didn’t even recognize myself back there, just spitting truth like it was oxygen.
So, to cover up my feelings, I did what I always did and found me a woman to entertain.
I walked into the bar and spotted a chick sittin’ down, lookin’ like trouble in a tight dress.
I didn’t hesitate. Plopped down on a stool with my million-dollar smile, like I owned the damn place.
But even while she was laughing at my dumb jokes and pretending to be impressed, my mind kept slipping back to Blyss.
I ain’t wanna think about her, but I did.
Blyss ain’t chase me. She just showed up in her cardigans and her big ass glasses, looking like a damn walking contradiction, and somehow that stuck with me more than any of these loud-ass women ever did.
And the worst part? I liked it. Matter fact, I liked her.
More than I wanted to admit. For some reason, the damn truth just kept leaking out of my mouth like I didn’t have any control.