Rich Prick – Tijan Page 0,55

a good father to me. Ever. He’s cheated on you since I can remember. My friends told stories about their moms having fights with their dads because of him. That was in fifth grade! He’s never come to any of my games. He only cares when I don’t have straight As. He gave me one talk when I was younger, and that was to keep my dick clean, always use condoms, and ask their ages. That’s the only fathering he’s ever done with me, and I know it’s because you made him. I heard you arguing.”

“You did?”

I closed my eyes. She was hurting. That meant I was hurting.

I lowered my head. “Yeah, Mom. I always heard you guys fighting.”

“Oh, Blaise. Honey.”

“Mom…” I had to ask. I couldn’t tell her what to do. She was my mother, but Marie always did what she thought was best, whether it was the right thing or not. “What do you want to do?”

Her answer came back swift and heated. “I want him out! Now! I want to march back there, take a shovel, and make my kitchen red.”

I was almost proud, my chest swelling. I also knew where I’d inherited the violent streak from. “Mom, let me call Stephen.”

“No, Blaise! Sweetie, this isn’t for you to handle. I’ll handle your fath—I’ll handle my ex-husband.”

I paused, debating, and then I lied. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. You said you’ll handle it. I trust you.”

Totally lying.

“Oh. Um...okay?” She was silent a moment. “Wait. You’re done with school, aren’t you? Wasn’t it your last day today?”

“My last project, yeah.”

“Are you celebrating with Zeke tonight?”

I hadn’t told her about Aspen. Now was a good time to do so, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t afford to be distracted from dealing with Griffith and getting him out of the house, out of her life.

“Yeah, I’m heading to his house now.”

“Okay. Can we, uh, I’d like to celebrate the graduations—all three of you kids. Your brother and sister, and yours. Do you think we could, maybe, have a family dinner?”

I hesitated. “Let’s talk this weekend about it.”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay.” She sounded a bit more upbeat. “I love you, honey. So much.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

She took another moment, and I knew she was gathering her strength. Once she hung up, I dialed my real father for the first time ever.

He answered right away. “Blaise! Hi. Is everything okay?”

I heard voices where he was, and I knew he wasn’t at my mom’s house.

“The asshole who adopted me has been at our house all week.”

“What?”

Good, and not good. He didn’t sound like he knew. That meant my mom hadn’t told him, or told him the whole truth.

She was good at that.

I was blowing her up, but I didn’t care. “He’s claiming to be there about me, but he’s not. I’m not going to tell you the real reason, that’s for her to tell you, but my mom needs help. I can’t go there. I go there, and I will put him in the hospital. I’ll give him a reason to sue us or arrest me.” I really wanted to do that. I wanted it so bad. “He needs to get out of that house and away from her permanently. He needs—”

“Blaise.”

Fuck. He sounded calm. Why was he calm?

“I’m already on my way. Don’t worry. I will take care of this.”

Then he hung up, and I sat there wondering if I’d done the right thing or not.

A second later, my phone rang again. It was an unknown number.

I hit accept. “Yeah?”

Cross’ voice came over the speaker. “My dad just took a call from you and tore out of the restaurant. What’s going on?”

I was silent.

Tell him? He’d go there, and fuck, but I didn’t want him to deal with it. That was my family, not his. I didn’t go to his house. I didn’t get involved with his mom.

But what if Stephen needed backup?

I made my decision.

“It’s none of your business.” I hung up and called Zeke.

“Yo!” His normal greeting, always happy.

I put the keys back in and started the engine. “I need backup at my house.”

Not even a hesitation. “When?”

“Now.”

He burped. “On my way.”

I peeled out of the parking lot.

27

Aspen

After my call with Nate, I went walking on the hiking trails north of Fallen Crest.

I stepped through a clearing in the trees, and a feeling sparked in me.

It was unsettling.

It was alarming.

And I turned to look out over the place I’d never considered my home. For some reason, maybe it was a gut feeling, one