Chapter 108
NATHAN’S POV
“How could you?!”
My father looks up from his tablet when I slam his door open. The surprise on his face quickly morphs into anger.
“What the fuck, Nathan?”
I storm into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind me.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
I’m panting hard–from running the distance between the clinic and my father’s room, from the adrenaline running through me caused by
my
need to do something.
With deathly calm, my father takes off his reading glasses and sets it on his bedside table next to a glass of water.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” he says with that same calm, “and when you answer, I suggest you do it in a temperate, respectful manner. What. The. Fuck. Nathan?”
But I can’t be temperate, and I have no respect to give.
The pure terror on April’s face when she saw June keeps flashing in my mind every time I blink.
My entire life has been a drag–monotonous and uncomfortable. Football was the only thing I had going for me, and I lost that.
But now I have April, and I’ve never felt such a deep need–an ache–to hold on to something the way I want to hold on to her.
So, fuck calm and respect.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” I yell, coming closer. “You hurt June!”
My father moves so fast that I don’t register what’s happening until the glass cup on his table shatters against my head.
The force of the blow and the pain from the glass shards knock me down to my knees.
I blink, momentarily stunned.
Liquid drips into my eyes, and I initially think it’s water from the cup, but when I wipe it away with the back of my hand, I see blood.
My father sits back on the edge of his bed, wiping his hands on his silk robe.
“You will speak to me with respect,” he says, “or you will not speak to me at all.”
“Bastard,” I seethe, shaking from head to toe.
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Chapter 108
:
A yell rips through me when he grabs my hair and pulls my head back forcefully.
“What the fuck did you say, boy?”
62
The last time my father hit me was five years ago.
Football practice had run late, and I missed an important family press conference he’d been very particular about.
I’d barely walked in through the front door when a golf club whacked me to my knees.
When he was done beating the shit out of me with his fists and club, I was limping. I did my best to hide the bruises and the ache I felt in my left knee.
However, the foundation of the damage had already been laid. By the time that linebacker from Georgetown tackled me, my knee was already halfway fucked up. He just finished the job my father started.
If I hadn’t taken a beating the day before, if I had been one hundred percent for that game, I could have evaded that tackle. The impact on my knee would not have been that bad. I wouldn’t have lost the most important thing to me.
So, I made up my mind to behave, to do what was expected of me, so I would never face the fury of my father’s fists again.
But for April, for the girl who gave me a sliver of hope after I lost football and my world came crashing down when I didn’t even know who she was.For the girl who made me feel something other than numbness for the first time in my life.
For her, I would bear the wrath of my father’s fists.
“You’re the one who hurt June. Admit it,” I hiss in his face.
The slap he gives me sets a violent ringing in my ears. He still doesn’t relinquish his grip on my hair.
“You want to keep going, boy?” he snarls.
I want to keep fucking going.
“You wanted April gone from the moment she arrived, but you couldn’t do it without offending the public. I sent you a compiled list of all the contestants needs and details–including the information that June was allergic to garlic.”
I’d put those details together during my investigation into June’s accident. My father had instructed a maid to add garlic to June’s food. He’d then instructed the doctors not to give her proper care.
Even with the evidence in front of me, I hadn’t wanted to believe it. I hadn’t wanted to face that reality, and I had no idea how I would tell April.
“When that didn’t work, you bid your time. You were happy when I eliminated her, and furious when you had to withdraw her elimination. So, you made another attempt on her sister.”
My father looks at me wordlessly for a moment, our eyes locked. I loathe that we have the same eyes. It’s like looking into a mirror and seeing a hateful, ugly version of yourself.
Then he pulls my head forward–onto his raised knee.
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Chapter 108
He releases my hair then, and I fall backward, clutching my nose. I feel the blood trail down to my lips.
“Fucking idiot,” my father grumbles, like I’m some inconvenience, a pesky fly hovering around him.
“You could have killed her,” I hiss, pulling myself up.
“So?” he snaps. “At least then that fucking nuisance would be gone!”
s (2
I turn to him. He’s standing now, towering over me. There’s mild irritation on his face, no ounce of regret or guilt as he stares down at his bloody son.
“You could have killed her!”
He swings his leg back, and his foot connects with my stomach, sending me flying back.
“I’ll kill you if you keep talking to me that way, boy.”
“Samuel, wha–oh my God!”
I wince, my mother’s scream piercing through the ringing in my ear.
“Oh, my baby!” She rushes to me and throws her arms around me.
“Nathan, honey, are you alright?”
My nose hurts when I wrinkle it, an involuntary reaction to the stench of vodka on my mother’s breath.
A shudder runs through me, and I feel the urge to throw my head back and scream.
April is right to want to leave. She should take her sister and run far, far away from me.
Tell me how to be with you not at my sister’s expense.
I’ll fix it.
But how can I fulfill that promise? How can I ‘fix it‘ when my life is such a fucking shitshow?
An abusive father who has no problem with murder and an alcoholic mother. How can I possibly bring April into this fucked up family?
I can’t fix it.
And if I love April like I think I do–like I know I do–then I should be helping her pack her bags.
I should be sending her far, far away from me.
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Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me
