Scartissue by T.L Hodel
CHAPTER 25
Logan
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I pulled to a stop at Manning Keep.
Lou’s town-car was already there, along with Martin Creswell’s Lincoln. Both were standing by the open entrance, waiting for me, along with Marco and four security guards.
I swung open my door and stepped out with a smirk on my face. Guess they didn’t trust me alone with my old man.
“Little overkill, don’t you think, Lou?”
“I prefer to call it cautious.”
I looked over at Marco, who cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. He was a big fucker, but he wasn’t dumb. He’d seen me in a rage.
Sucking in a long drag of smoke, I said, “I hope it’s a big room.” I flicked my butt and slowly exhaled, “Otherwise someone’s going to take it up the ass.”
“You’ll be going in alone.”
My brow rose at Lou’s statement. He had to know I’d kill the fucker the first chance I got. It didn’t matter how many men he had ready, they weren’t fast enough.
I glanced over at Martin, eyeing his doctor bag.
“What’s the catch?”
“You have the right to talk to your father.” Lou straightened himself and smoothed his suit jacket.
Since when?
My gaze narrowed in on him. “He wouldn’t talk to you, would he?”
“No,” Lou sighed. “He said he’d only talk to you.”
The Kings must’ve learned the hard way that you can’t torture someone who has nothing to lose. My old man already lost the only thing important to him. Power. He could give a fuck less about anything else.
Lou waved his hand at the stairs leading into the ground. “Shall we?”
“After you,” I said, and followed him down the stone steps.
We went through the Ravens door and took a left down a hallway I’d never been down before.
Not that I paid attention to shit here. The only time I came to Manning Keep was when I had to.
At the end of the hall, Lou punched in a code and creaked open a metal door.
My heart pumped adrenaline through my veins. I knew my old man was in there. I could sense him.
“So you know,” Lou turned and looked at me, “If you kill him, you fail.”
I scoffed out a laugh.
Seriously? This was what they decided to use for my Dominare la paura?
“You think I give a shit if I fail your fucking test?”
Martin grumbled, “I told you.”
No one accused the doctor of being stupid.
“I have faith in the boy.”
“You shouldn’t,” I said, and sauntered through the door.
My first thought was, what the fuck was this? This shit wasn’t some deep dark hole, it was closer to a luxury room at the Plaza. Complete with plush furnishings, and a goddamn bar.
“Hello, boy. How’s your mother?”
My eyes locked on my old man. Smug fucker stood there with a smile on his face, sipping fucking brandy.
“Come in, have a seat.” He waved at a wingback chair. “You want a drink?”
“Only if I get to drink it out of your skull.”
My old man tsked.
“You should play nice. That is, if you want your little girlfriend to find her brother.”
He was bluffing. No way my old man would take Lou’s kid and let him live.
“He’s dead.”
“Is he? Come on boy, you know me better than that.” He tipped a brow in my direction. “Would I waste perfectly good leverage?”
No he fucking wouldn’t. Did I care? No.
But she would.
Fuck sakes. For some goddamn reason, I cared about that shit. Thinking of Shelby crying over her lost brother broke my heart.
“God damnit!” I snarled and flopped down in the chair.
Fucking Shelby jacking up everything.
I could’ve come in here and gotten some satisfaction, and maybe a little blood. But no. I had to play along. And why? Because of some chick.
Not ‘some’ chick. My chick.
My old man snickered and walked over to the bar to pour a drink. “She’s a fine piece of ass, son. You fucked her yet?”
None of your fucking business.
“Of course you have,” he said, holding out a glass for me. “You are my son, after all.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I hissed and snatched the cup out of his hand.
“Yes you are.” He sat down in a chair opposite me and stared me straight in the eyes. “You’re exactly like me.”
I wanted to rip that fucking smile off his face. Instead, I downed the contents of the glass, letting the alcohol burn it’s way down my throat.
“See that look right there?” He lifted his glass and pointed at me. “That’s all me, boy.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I was nothing like my old man. Everything he touched turned to shit.
“Let me ask you a question.” He sat back and crossed his ankles. “You hit her yet?”
My eyes locked on his as I forced a swallow down my throat. I did, but only because she hit me. She needed to learn.
“She deserved it.”
“Did she?” He tipped his head, “Or do you just like seeing her suffer?”
That was different. She liked it too. At least, I think she did. She asked me to hurt her.
What if she only did it because she knew I wanted to?
“It’s okay boy, I like it too.” He held his glass up and stared longingly at the amber liquid inside. “There’s nothing quite as exquisite as your woman’s tears.”
“She laughs with me,” I said, attempting to refute his argument. “I make her smile.”
“I’m sure you do. Your mother smiled all the time, too.”
Ma’s smiles were fake. Shelby’s were real.
But are they?
“You’re more like me than you thought, boy.”
I jumped out of the chair and threw my glass at the wall. Fuck him. He was just messing with my head.
“You don’t scare me anymore, old man.”
“Yeah, well come on then, boy. Show me what you got.”
***
“Another,” I said, slamming the glass down on the bar.
Lou had his goons pull me off my old man before I could do any real damage.
I had the fucker, too. He was down on the ground, facing the full fury of my fists, and the fuckers pulled me off. Son of a bitch laughed at me when I was dragged from the room. I got a couple good shots in though. I should be happy about that.
I wasn’t.
The bartender slid another shot of scotch my way.
“Here you go.”
I nodded at him, tipped the glass to my lips, and downed the alcohol.
My old man said I was like him. That Shelby would end up just like Ma. Scared and alone. Maybe he was right.
His blood did pump through my veins like a fucking plague. Everything I touched turned to shit. Why the fuck should she be any different? I was a fucking idiot to think I could have something good in my life.
“Hey there handsome. You look a little down.”
I tipped my chin at the brunette and raked my eyes down her frame. If her shirt got any tighter, her nipples would be on display. They kind of were already.
She leaned in, giving me a good view of her ample cleavage.
“You know, I have a knack for cheering people up.”
“Oh yeah?” I leaned back to sneak a peek of her ass. Not bad. “Well, what do you say we get out here then, sweetheart?”
Two minutes later, we were behind the bar in the back of her shitty car.