I can imagine him closing his eyes and rubbing his brows. It’s what he does every time I tell him he was never a father to Ari or me, as if he’s searching for the patience to deal with me.
“Is there a point behind your call, Asher? If not, I have things—”
“I hit a teacher. It’s the worst beating so far. I don’t know if he’ll live or die.”
“What did you just say?”
“A teacher, Alexander. I want him gone from Blackwood. Make sure to search his background—he’s a fucking pedophile.”
“How involved are you?” His voice is strained.
To an outsider, it’d seem as if he cares about his son’s wellbeing. In reality, he doesn’t want anything to smear his perfect, diligent name, which he spent years building. If his son is labeled a criminal, no one will hire his firm.
I stare at my hands and the blood glinting in the light.
How involved am I?
“Very deeply,” I tell Alexander.
“Have you left any fingerprints?”
“A few, yes.” I came with gloves, but I had to feel his blood on my skin.
“Fucking hell.” He breathes into the phone. “Fine, leave. I’ll take care of it.”
I hang up without another word. Alexander doesn’t deserve any thanks. After all, he left us alone to fend for each other after Mom’s death. The least he can do is pay the price for what we’ve become.
Me, full of rage and deep-seated pain.
Ari, fragile and sometimes cold.
It takes me fifteen minutes to reach our house and then head to my room. For a moment, I stop in front of the room opposite mine.
Her room.
Since her father’s death at the beginning of the year, Reina’s been living with us.
With me.
In person, but never in mind.
My fists clench on either side of me as I remember the fucker’s words.
She begged for my cock.
He could have been lying. I should believe that, but he was in no state of mind to think of a lie after I beat him nearly to death.
Besides, after all Reina has done, what makes this any different?
I close my eyes to push the thought of her away, but the sucking sounds she made from under that table as he stroked her hair assault my brain. She sounded like a fucking porn star.
I should’ve killed that motherfucker.
“What…what happened?” Her slightly breathy voice makes my eyes open.
Reina stands at her doorway in her sleeping shorts and top. They mold against her athletic body like a second skin.
A temptress. She’s always been such a fucking temptress.