His brows crease. “Why do I get the feeling, I will not like whatever it is you want to discuss? Pour a drink, sit down at least.”
I pace the room and stand in front of the fireplace. “It wasn't so long ago I stood in this room and told you I’d never work by your side, and now here I am, Vice-VP in my early twenties.”
“Well, it is my legacy. What you were born to do.”
Looking at the man I once admired, I finally see him. Really see him. Picking up a fire poke, I cross the room to where he sits. He looks between me and the poke. “You know, your biggest mistake was bringing Ash into it. See, I overlooked what you did to my mother because she chose to stay, chose you. But Ash is my girl, and that means something to me.”
“Are you going to kill me now, boy?”
I sneer down at him. “Oh no, but I am going to make you sorry you messed with her.” Lifting the poke, I bring it down on his legs hard. He doesn’t have time to react. The man now holding his leg, howling, is no family of mine. He’s a piece of shit who sabotaged my career and blackmailed the woman I love.
I bring the poke down on him again, this time hitting his arm, he falls to the floor on his knees with a grunt.
He lurches for me and heads me in the torso, his fingers digging into me. The blow knocks the air from me. I stumble back, the poke flying out of my hand clattering to the floor. My father doesn’t waste the opportunity, and is on me in seconds, slamming his fist to my ear, then my jaw.
It disoriented me, and his hands wrapped around my neck. I claw at him, my airways battling for reprieve.
“You have been a fucking disappointment from the moment you took your first breath. Do you have any idea how many times over the years I’ve wished it was you who died at the lake that day.”
My lungs burn and I’m struggling to pull in air. My clawing stops and I think I’m slipping under, but then I hear her—my mom.
“And I’ve wished it was you.”
The sound that follows rings in my ears like a church bell. His hands are so limp and his body slumps on top of me. I struggle to push him off, I can feel sticky wetness on my face.
When I’m finally free, my mom hovers over me, gun in her hands trembling.
“Oh, God…” Maria rushes toward my mom, and bravely places her hand on my mom's, removing the weapon. My mom just stares at my father’s body, the gaping hole between his eyes. I feel for a pulse, but there isn’t one. His vacant eyes focused on the ceiling. I use my sleeves to wipe the remnants of blood and matter off my face and manage to stagger upright.
“Mom.” I place my hands on her arms. Tears brim in her eyes when she looks at me. “I couldn’t let him hurt you. I couldn’t…”
When I wrap my arms around her, she presses her face to my chest wailing, her fingers fisting my shirt.
“I couldn’t…” she repeats, and I lead her to the loveseat, never intending to let her go.
I nod to Maria who leaves the room to call 911.
ChapterTwenty-Five
ASH
“Ash!” Marcella shakes me awake. My eyes squint at the light.
“What is it?” I groan, yawning. I don’t think I’ve even been asleep an hour, I’m that tired.
Focusing on my cousin, I instantly sit up at the sight of her bloodshot eyes. “My…Ryder’s father is dead. I think you should be there.”
My heart thuds in my chest. Coben Rothwell is dead.
“Marcy, what happened?”
She sniffs. “He was shot.”
“Oh no. No. No.” I climb out of bed, dragging on my jeans and a hoodie. No. Ryder wouldn’t do that.
I’m almost out the door of my bedroom when I realize Marcella is sitting on my bed. “Aren’t you coming?”
“That isn’t the way I thought I’d meet my father, Ash.”