Chapter twenty-five
Tai
“Oh, dear sister,” I call out in a sing-song tone when I reach our shared hallway and strut toward her bedroom. “We need to talk. And yes—you are absolutely in deep, deep shit.”
No reply comes from within her open door, and I can just picture Soph’s face of annoyance in preparation for my beautiful mug when I rip her a new one.
If she thought she could get away with being sneaky behind my back, I’m not the brother she thought I was.
See—information comes easy to me. Whether that’s by my own means with coding and hacking, or by forcing it out of people, I always find things out.
How Sophia thought she was going to get away with her devious plan is beyond me.
I’m assuming she saw Bex as a protective feature…
like anti-virus software. But common household anti-virus systems are no match for advanced firewalls and decryption.
And yes—I’m elite with my skills. Let’s not waste precious time trying to deny it.
“Hey! Did you hear me?” I say loudly, swinging rapidly around into her doorway. I’m ready to confront her but an empty room stares mockingly back at me, making me feel a little stupid. Only a little though. My theatrics should always be witnessed. I’ve spent many years perfecting my artsy craft.
My frustration quickly fizzles out to irritation at the vacant space. Immediately, that blows out completely when I spot her beloved Kindle still atop her reading chair.
Not finding Soph in here isn’t a cause for alarm. But the abandoned, left behind Kindle definitely is.
Unless… she planned that to distract me.
Oh, she’s good. She knew I was coming. I bet she’s hiding with Mary somewhere. Probably eating peanut butter cookies without me.
Well, not on my watch!
I turn to head back down the hallway to search for her when my attention becomes fixed on the figure standing at the other end. Pausing, immediately I feel the usual rush of ice through my veins, the hardness forming at impressive super speed from the older man’s unwanted presence.
“Tai,” my father says coldly, gesturing for me to come toward him. “My office.”
“Where’s Soph?” I ask equally as chilly, refusing to move a single inch.
He shoots me that habitual expression he wears often—the one that translates to ‘Don’t start with me. Rein in your audacity or else’. Instead of voicing those exact words, he glares at me warningly, straightening up his posture with an unnatural stiffness. “My office.”
As usual, I’m nothing more than a mere task to him that requires his own specialized skill set. His attorney-styled twisted structure leaves nothing but more questions and ambiguity. Against my better judgment, I’m forced to assess our positions before deciding on my next move.
It’s no wonder I hate math when I have a father who is a master of calculation.
Is he demanding I go to his office? Or was he answering my question and informing me that Soph is in there?
Either way it’s perfectly worded to have me speculating, maximally designed to ensure I have no choice but to follow his order.
He’s a fucking asshole.
Unlike Ry and Hunter, I haven’t spent my life chained to my father.
I’m thankful not to be in their shoes, trying to untangle myself from the noose tightened around their necks by the sperm generators.
Let’s be honest… My shoes are far more fashionable and perfect for everyday wear.
Probably why Calvin ate the damn things.
I know it annoys my father to no end that he has no control or power over me.
But he has no one to blame but himself. Two separate facts can be equally true though.
As much as he detests my defiance, he doesn’t mind the benefits that normally accompany this inconvenience.
He prefers to be away from his children.
To him, criminals and evil masterminds are easier and more pleasant to deal with. After all, it takes one to know one.
But without that lovely familial tie of loyalty, Dad has to find another way to ensure my compliance when he requires it.
And that weapon is Sophia.
That’s why I’ll never be like him. We may look eerily alike sometimes, but I am nothing if not my mother’s son. She was everything beautiful in my world. Kind, caring, generous… loving. The polar opposite to the poor excuse of a parent in front of me.
I know I’ve made mistakes and done shitty things. Hell, even to the girl I love. But I knew when to stop. I knew when enough was enough.
I chose to be human when the situation called for it—even when Bexley was just Spencer to me.
My moral compass might not be as straight as an arrow, but it’s sure as hell not as crooked as his.
Soph is not a piece of meat to use. He and I both know that she secretly holds onto the hope that one day, he might decide to come back and be the present dad we needed and craved.
But you can’t fix something that never existed in the first place.
The sad thing is he uses Soph’s hopes and dreams to crush her into submission.
Whenever I interject and stop his plans from working, instead of taking his anger out on me, the rightful target, he goes after her because it gets more of a reaction.
It’s as if he gets off on pain and torture. Sick fuck.
“Fine,” I reply, dark and low. “I don’t have all day, though.”
That’s the Tai translation for I’m only coming to find my damn sister and make sure you don’t have her held hostage.
Dad barely flaunts any satisfaction of my compliance, giving the bare minimum acknowledgement by solely gesturing again for me to hurry up like this was always the end result.
My fists curl into balls as I follow his route, resisting the urge to give in the temptations and allow my demons to take over.
Images of smashing his skull into the wall race through my mind and it does nothing to calm me—well, except for the hilarious thought that his brain matter would blend into the tacky color of his office walls.
And immediately that tiny joy is sucked away from me too because now all I can focus on is the fact that it might not be too far from the actual truth.
As a criminal attorney, he’s seen and been involved in his fair share of murder cases.
It’s not far-fetched to consider that he opted for this particular shade of decorative flesh to gloat about his career and area of expertise or perhaps ensuring he has the perfect camouflage setup in case a homicide ever goes down in our humble residence.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing? Nope. Just a feral wolf in Armani.
When I round the corner, my eyes home in on the corner couch knowingly. Red-hot anger replaces the ice in my veins as Soph glances up with swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.
“Soph,” I say firmly without breaking my gaze from her. “Go to your room.”
“I’m not finished with her yet,” Dad snaps.
Soph flinches at his raised tone, and I’m seconds away from giving the demons a green light and letting them wreak havoc.
“Soph,” I repeat. “Now.”
It doesn’t slip past me that at this very moment, I’m speaking to her just like he is. But the intention is as polar opposite as possible. I’m sure she knows that.
I hope so, anyway.
Spinning to face me, Dad inhales before crossing the maroon carpet, stopping inches away. “I said—”
“I really don’t give a shit what you have to say,” I cut him off, eyes flaring as my curled fists start to shake by my sides. “Besides, let’s be honest here—even though I know that’s a weakness for you. You just want me. Soph was just leverage to get me in the office. Right?”
We all know the answer. Which is probably why I don’t get a reply. I use his angry silence to repeat myself to Soph, and thankfully, this time she stands and moves out of the office quickly.
When I hear her bedroom door close down the hallway, I turn and walk. Closing his office door, I lock myself in with the monster whom I share only a last name with.
“Get on with it,” I spit out, facing him again. “And leave her out of this.”
Dad’s eyes narrow sharply, and he stalks toward me again. This time, he doesn’t hold back, and even though I expect it, I’m not quick enough to stop the powerful backhand he gives me across the face.
A small growl emanates from my throat as I snap my head back in his direction. “Well, if that’s all you wanted,” I start. “I’ll be leaving.”
“Sit down,” he hisses, throwing a look of disgust before turning on his heel to the desk. “We’ll discuss your disrespect after.”
“I’ll stand, thanks.”
Pausing slightly, back muscles tense, and I brace myself for round two. My cheek is stinging and throbbing painfully, and glancing at his hand, I spot his class ring. Great—it’s going to bruise and is probably bleeding.
Better me than Soph, though. I’ll take his abuse any day if it means protecting her.
“I’ve received word from Marcus that your behavior at the academy has been unacceptable in accordance with Willowbrook standards,” he replies, ignoring my previous comment. “Apparently, both yourself and Sophia have been gallivanting around with Bexley Spencer from Cedar Heights.”
Those demons are inching closer to being unleashed, a reaction I wasn’t fully prepared for. But hearing Bex’s name come out of his mouth, I’m ready to go to war.
This was never about Soph. This is about Bex.
I should have known.
With a raised eyebrow, I fold my arms slowly while shooting him a bemused look. “Is there a point to this conversation or are you just repeating facts? I’m not one of your witnesses on the stand.”
He glances up coolly from his chair, retrieving a pen from its metal holder on the desk top. “You’ll cease your interactions with her immediately.” Turning his attention away, he begins signing documents, signaling my dismissal.
“No.”
The scratchy sound of the pen halts as the air thickens around us. “No?” He repeats in a deadly tone, slowly looking up. Well, at least I know where I get my theatrics from. “It wasn’t a request, Tai. Be thankful I’m giving you the opportunity to end things before my intervention.”
My eye twitches as the scratchy noise returns carelessly. Before I realize I’m doing it, I’m moving toward him. I snatch the pen out of his hand and toss it to the side, forcing him to acknowledge me.
“If you touch her,” I growl. “I will chase you down. Whether that’s here, in fucking Europe or the damn North Pole.”
Slowly, Dad rises to his feet to meet me face to face. It’s clear by the murderous look in his eyes that he’s beyond any general meaning of livid, but hey… so am I.
Bring it on, asshole.
“Are you threatening me, child?”
“No,” I answer without missing a beat. “I’m promising you. And save your attempts at belittling me. I’m your child only on paper.” Leaning across the desk, I pluck the half-signed document, tearing it down the middle into two. “And that’s how I feel about paper.”
I toss the pieces in his direction before heading toward the door. I half expect a paperweight to hit me in the back of the head or something but nothing comes. Nor are there any words. Which can only mean one thing…
Something bigger is on its way instead.