his usual hard voice. There was no familiarity or warmth in his words, like a father should speak to his son. He spoke to me like I was one of the people on his goddamn payroll.
He stood up and walked away, without waiting for me to follow. I was already taking a step back, refusing to follow his goddamn orders.
“Please,” Mommy dearest mouthed.
My feet paused, and I cracked my neck, squeezing my lips together. The muscles in my chest tightened, and against my own accord, my legs took me toward my father’s office.
I walked inside to find him sitting behind his desk. He nodded toward the whiskey bottle on the tray. “Have a drink?”
I let out a small, humorless laugh. Yeah, if I had to survive this talk with my father, I definitely needed a drink. I poured a glass full and downed it quickly, feeling the burn in my throat, and my eyes watered.
“I spoke with your coach last week,” he started.
“Keeping tabs on me?” I snorted in amusement.
His eyes hardened. “He said you were one of his best players. That’s good to know.”
Praise… from Brad Coulter? Hmm. I wasn’t about to fall in that trap. I could barely remember the last time my father said something remotely nice to me. I had been… maybe five or six years old? That was almost two decades ago.
He cocked his head to the side. “I heard you’re dating Lila,” he deadpanned. “You didn’t tell us.”
I placed the empty glass on his desk, and my fists clenched. There was a reason why I never brought Lila here. I wanted to keep her far away from the toxicity that was my parents. They didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. “Is this why we’re here? To talk about my dating life? C’mon, Father. That’s beneath you.”
My father was silent for a moment. I didn’t want to play his game, I really didn’t.
I grasped the bottle of whiskey in my hand and took a step back, raising the bottle up in mock salute. “Nice talk, Brad.”
His nostrils flared at the blatant disrespect, but I was already walking away, without waiting for his response. My heart hammered in my chest, my skin crawling and itching with the need to get away from him, from this suffocating place.
His next words halted me, my feet coming to a sudden stop.
“Don’t hurt her.”
My back snapped straight, and I swiveled around to face him, a low snarl on my lips. “I would never,” I hissed. “I’m not you.”
He stood up, calmly, and it grated my nerves. I hated the pacifying look on his face, like he actually FUCKING CARED.
“No, Maddox. You’re not me,” my father agreed, almost like he was relieved about that idea. “But you also don’t realize you’re on the path of self-destruction. You’ll end up hurting Lila in the end, Son. And do you know who will hurt the most? You.”
Fury burned through my veins like acid. My blood roared furiously in my ears; it was almost deafening. The sick feeling in my stomach was back, and I fought the urge to throw up. In the moment, I didn’t even realize he called me son. I was too angry, filled with so much loathing at the person who was supposed to be my dad.
Lila was the one good thing in my life.
And he wanted me to give her up.
If, for one second, I thought my father cared… that brief notion was gone, before it even fully came to be.
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind,” I sneered, before stalking away.
My mother was outside the door, and I walked into her, practically slamming into her small frame. Her eyes blurred, and she reached for me, but I side-stepped her.
“Maddox,” she called out.
I didn’t stop, didn’t pause, until I was out of the iron gates.
I was done listening.
Done trying to be the son they wanted.
I. Was. Fucking. Done.
9
Lila
Maddox had been… quiet. Which was unusual. His cocky, arrogant attitude had been replaced with a brooding, silent Maddox. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, and it had been three days since we returned to school from our visit to my grandparents’. We were back to our regular schedule and classes, but the Maddox, who returned with me, was not the same who left for the long weekend a week ago.
“I’ve never seen you stare at a business textbook so hard,” I said, placing my elbows on the table and leaning forward.