“Marcie… come on, it’s a great opportunity. No more working for Mr Garrett and having to deal with his crap and with Wendy’s fake tits following him everywhere.”
“That is true,” she ponders.
“And not to mention that you’d be working for Anthony Dweller… you know, the hot guy that just so happens to be the one you were commenting on in the presentation this morning…” I leave her with that thought as I take another sip of wine.
Marcie’s eyes sparkle as she says, “What time do we need to be there?” And I have the biggest grin on my face.
ChapterEighteen
Caleb
I knock on the door and wait for what feels like forever until I hear feet shuffling on the other side. An “Ow, fuck” is shouted out, and then the jangling of keys starts to get on my nerves as I wait for the door to open.
“What the hell do you want?” is the greeting I get when he sees it’s me.
“Charming,” I comment. “I need to talk to you.”
“I ain’t got nothing to say to you, so just fuck off out of here,” he spits as he goes to close the door, but I slam my palm against it and push it back open. I came here to speak, and I will be fucking heard, or at least, I’m hoping I will be.
“Hey,” he shouts as he stumbles back a little, giving me the chance to step inside before he can stop me. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles as I push past him and walk into the kitchen, sitting myself down at the table, because I’m not going anywhere until I’ve said all I came to say.
“Go on then,” he says when he walks in a few seconds later, and not for the first time this week, I feel shame as I watch my son take a seat opposite me. I’m ashamed of who he has become. I don’t know this person, and I guess I never really did, because I’ve never been allowed to, but fuck, to look at him now is just tragic. Hair all messed up, bags under his eyes, shitty ripped clothes, and his breath… smells like he’s sunk an entire brewery.
As his father, I want nothing more than to help him, get him on the right path, so he can see how great his life could be, but he won’t allow me to do that. I’ve tried so fucking hard, but to no avail.
And for me, putting your hands on a woman, hurting her, abusing her, is just something I cannot forgive.
“God, you’re a fucking mess,” I tell him, and he freezes for a moment, his eyes widening a fraction. “And yes, you heard me right.”
“What the fuck do you know?” he spits as he lounges back on the chair, one arm hanging over the back. Does he think that makes him look badass or something?
“I know that you’ve lost control and you need help,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. “Here we go again. Always with the fucking help.”
“Because I care about what happens to you.”
He scoffs. “Funny way of showing it. Where were you when I was a kid, huh? Where was your help then?”
“I’ve told you a million times, your mother wouldn’t let me be a part of your life, not like I should have been.”
“Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah. Stop lying to make yourself feel better,” he says as he gets up and goes over to the side, opening up a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of vodka. He unscrews the lid and takes a swig, his face screwing up as he swallows. “Woooo,” he shouts out. “That shit fucking burns.”
Christ.
“Want some?” he says as he thrusts the bottle towards me. I shake my head. I’m not here to get fucked up with him. “Suit yourself,” he says with a shrug, taking another sip.
“What happened to you?” I say quietly. I mean, Jesus, fuck, how did my son end up like this? It pains me to witness it.
“Apart from a deadbeat dad who wasn’t bothered with me? Absolutely nothing,” he says, sitting back down, bottle in hand.
“I’m never going to get you to believe me, am I?” I say, finally seeing that all of my efforts are totally wasted. I mean, I had hoped for a little sliver of something, but I’m fooling myself. The fucking pain I feel in my chest hurts.
“Hey, I have a question,” he says, slamming the bottle on the table and putting his arms on the table, his fingers locking together. “Why were you at Cameron’s work today?”
“For a meeting,” I say. I don’t need to expand, it’s nothing to do with him, and I sure as shit am not going to get into a conversation about her.
“Huh. And you throwing me out of the office, that was just standard employee behaviour, was it?” he questions, slugging some more vodka.