Chapter 32
Max
“Max?” Audrey’s voice echoed through the hall. I didn’t like how small it sounded.
“Coming!” I yelled back as I hurried through the hall. My brows stitched together at the sight of Audrey’s face, pale and spooked as if she’d seen a ghost. Stopping at her side, I followed her gaze out the doorway and onto the porch.
My stomach knotted at the sight of my father.
Seeing him standing on our doorstep, casually puffing on a cigarette like he belonged there, wasn’t unfamiliar, but it has been a while.
After I turned eighteen, he stopped popping up around holidays.
I figured he finally got tired of having the door slammed in his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
“Dropped by for Thanksgiving dinner,” he replied. “I think my invitation got lost in the mail.”
Scoffing, I refrained from muttering something smart under my breath. “Go back inside,” I told Audrey.
Her brows curled up. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “If our parents ask, say it was a friend of mine.”
“Okay.” She spared another weary glance at my father before obeying my command.
“Nice seeing you again, Audrey,” my father said, making sure his voice carried through the house.
I quickly stepped outside and closed the door behind me to avoid the echo traveling too far down the hall.
“I understand the commotion you caused over her now,” my father commented, still staring at the door where Audrey once stood. “She’s grown beautifully.”
“Don’t start,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
He nodded his head towards the sidewalk. “Take a walk with me.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn’t - that I was busy - but he was already walking off the porch steps. Sighing, I reluctantly followed after him.
“You want a smoke?” He asked as we walked up the block.
“Nah.”
“I heard Clyde popped up dead.” He took a puff of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. The gray shadows hovered around him like ghosts under the golden street lights. “Every bone in his face crushed in. Apparently, it was so bad his people had a hard time identifying him.”
“You’re telling me like I care.”
“I’m telling you because I know you did it.”
“Unless you’ve got proof, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
My father smiled. “I really taught you well, huh, mijo?”
I averted my gaze. “A lot of suspicions going around?”
“Of course. But, Clyde wasn’t exactly a fan-favorite, so there’s a lot of names in the hat. Honestly, I came by because I wanted to know why yours was one of them.”
“That’s not important.”
“It will be when his boss comes knocking to check your name off the list of suspects.”
“Oh, I want him to come around. I’ve got something for his ass.”
He cocked his head to the side. “What’s got you all riled up? I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”
“You ask as if you don’t already know.”
“I don’t,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have come all the way down here if I did.”
I glanced over at him and caught the sincerity in his eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I debated if I really wanted to tell him the truth or not.
Knowing him, if I didn’t tell him now, he’ll find someone who will.
Wesley and Tysir may be loyal to me, but they’re also loyal to my father.
They’d willingly disobey me if it meant following his commands.
I didn’t want to deal with the nuances of that right now.
“They’re trying to sink their claws into Jayden,” I muttered, hating the way the words tasted on my tongue. “First, they tried to trick him into working for them and recently, they jumped him.”
“So?”
“The fuck do you mean ‘so’?” I snapped, raising my eyes to glare at him. “He’s your son. My brother. Our family.”
“He is a mistake,” my father replied, his voice hard. “One that cost me the love of my life, my heir - my family.”
Disgust barreled through me, and for a second, I wished I could punch him square in his face. “He didn’t cost you anything. You ruined all that shit on your own.”
“Oh, is that why you’ve taken him up under your wing?
You feel guilty for projecting all your anger onto him, and now you’re pretending to be big brother of the year, so he’ll forgive you for treating him like trash his entire life?
” Scoffing, he took another puff of his cigarette.
“That’s your problem, Max. You care too fucking much.
If you wanna make it in this world, if you want to be like me-”
“I don’t want to be like you.”
My father stared at me for a long moment, his brow half-raised as if he was trying to figure out whether to be angry or amused. Looking me up and down, he said, “It’s too late for that.”
His words lingered in the air, swirling over my head like a curse I couldn’t break.
I shook my head, trying to shake off the uneasiness. “Whatever,” I mumbled. I turned on my heel and took a step in the opposite direction. “I’ve got to get back.”
He grabbed my arm before I could take another. “Listen,” he demanded. “You’ve been putting a lot on the line for people who wouldn’t do the same for you. Watch that shit.”
I yanked my arm out of his grasp. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“I hope so. Because that good deed of yours isn’t going to go unpunished.”