I clench my jaw. “You didn’t do much raising. Mom did all that.”
“And look at her now, traipsing around London, whoring herself—”
“Dad,” I say angrily. “Stop it.”
“You’re so quick to defend that woman. But why? I’m the one that’s given you everything, Blair. I’m the one still here. You have a life because of me, because of my name. And yet you do nothing but curse the gifts you’ve been given. I’ll never understand you.”
“That’s not true.” Except it is and I know it. My education was top of the line and the fact that he’s Alexander Webb means doors opened for me over the years that might’ve remained shut to other people. Even though I’ve worked hard and did my best to earn what I have, I still can’t escape who I am.
And who he is.
He’s right that I’ve fought against it. I resent him and resent myself for taking everything I was given without looking too closely or thinking too hard, and I don’t know how to reconcile these feelings with the person I want to be.
“Don’t be so childish. Are we going to have the same old fight or can we skip your dramatics? Where is my son? Tell Max to come out here, I want to speak with him.”
“No.” I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Dad’s eyebrows raise. “No? He’s my son. You don’t get a say, daughter.”
“You’re not talking to him. You don’t have anything to do with him anymore.”
“Excuse me? This situation was supposed to be temporary. I agreed to it because I hoped Max might thrive in an environment closer to his school, and because you were so insistent. But now I wonder if I made a mistake.”
“This situation is better for him than being at home ever was, and you know why?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me it’s all my fault.” He yawns and walks toward my kitchen. “Really, Blair. Let’s skip this.”
I open my mouth to tell him how much of a monster he’s been my whole life and how deeply scarred and impacted Max is because of his constant brow-beating and bullying. But the words die on my lips.
It won’t matter. He’s right, I’ve done this before. I’ve told him all this and more, and it still doesn’t change a thing. My father will never see himself clearly, he’ll never learn, and the only thing I can do now is protect my little brother from him as best I can.
“Get out of my apartment. I don’t want you here.”
Dad rolls his eyes. “Here we go.”
“No, we’re not fighting this time. This isn’t going to be the same old fight. I want you gone, and that’s it.”
“Blair, enough. Fetch Max for me.”
I step closer to him. “Leave.”
He watches me with sharp, amused eyes. “Listen to me, daughter. I understand you like to blame all your problems on your awful, mean old father. But unfortunately, I am not the cause of your troubles,youare. I’ve done nothing but keep you from self-destructing your entire life, and I will not watch you drag your brother down with you.” He steps forward, anger shifting into his expression. “I know that you’re working with Tony Cowan.”
I step back. The sudden shift in conversation knocks me off-balance. I thought he still assumed I was at Drake—but clearly, he knows better. I hadn’t tried to hide it from him, but I didn’t think anyone in the industry knew yet, much less my father. I let it sink in and shiver slightly, hugging myself.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matterhow. You’re working with that second-rate psychopath and people are talking. He’s going to chew you up and destroy you and your foolish partner, you realize that? You aremydaughter, and what you do reflects on me. I came here to talk to Max, but since you refuse to allow that to happen, I’ll talk to you instead.” He tightens his hands into fists. “Stop working with Tony Cowan.”
There’s a bang at the door. I jump but manage to keep my yelp under control. Dad’s cold fury is terrifying, and I quickly spin around and turn the knob.
Baptist frowns at me, looking harried. “Is everything okay?” His eyes slip past me and he notices my father glaring at us both, and his expression changes. It goes from concerned to serious and intense in seconds, and he steps up next to me, almost protectively.
“Baptist Thompkins,” Dad rumbles and Baptist tenses like he expects a physical confrontation. Just what I need: my stupid, overly alpha business partner beating up my old asshole Dad. Although I’ll admit, it does sound appealing right about now. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
Baptist’s smile is laced with venom. “You must be Blair’s father.”
“Alexander Webb. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” He doesn’t come over to shake Baptist’s hand, and Baptist doesn’t move away from me.