Bittersweet (Redemption #3) - Jessica Prince Page 0,54

say or I’ll make sure you lose everything. I don’t care if you are my son.”

“Then take it,” I fired back. “The car, the clothes, the credit cards. I don’t give a shit. Take it all, you miserable old bastard. See if I fucking care.”

His fists clenched and I knew exactly what would happen next if I didn’t watch it. But I was too far gone. All I saw was red. All I could think of was how desperate I was to keep Shane. I didn’t care about the repercussions. I came by my anger issues honestly, getting them right from my old man, so when we went head-to-head, the results were ghastly.

“I’ll make you regret ever being born.”

“Too late, motherfucker.”

And with that, I shoved him right over the line.

My brain felt like it had been scrambled, when I breathed it felt like someone had poured gasoline into my lungs and lit a match, and every step I took was a lesson in torture. But I kept going.

I was done. Gone. As of tonight, it was over. Once I came to on my bedroom floor and was able to move, I’d shoved some clothes into the backpack I used for school and walked out, leaving behind my car and phone and anything else that belonged to him.

The walk from my parents’ place to the Hendrix household was only a little over five miles, and usually I could have done that no problem. But my father had literally just beat me unconscious, so the walk was agony.

I could have stopped him. There was a part of me—a big part—that wanted to do exactly that. It was only by the grace of God that I’d managed to hold back. Because I knew what he’d do. If I had lifted a hand to defend myself or left a single mark on him, he’d have called the cops without so much as blinking.

I was eighteen years old. I would have been fucked. So I took my beating and didn’t fight back. For once he’d been the one to lose control. For once I hadn’t given him what he wanted. I hadn’t played into his hand. And for once he lost a bit of that power he held so tightly to.

Now I was free.

The sigh of relief I let out when Shane’s house came into view rattled a bit, and spots started dancing before my eyes. But it was just a little farther. Only a few yards. I could make it. I would make it.

The door opened almost as soon as I finished knocking, and in spite of the pain, in spite of everything that had happened over the past few hours, I felt a peace glide over me that I’d never felt in my life, and I knew without having to question it, that it was the peace that came with knowing you were home.

Chapter Fifteen

Jensen

It hadn’t taken me and the guys long to get the answers I was looking for the night before, and by the time I pulled up in front of the sprawling mansion with its perfectly manicured lawn, lush flowerbeds, and artfully designed topiaries, I was seconds away from losing my shit.

I beat on the front door with the side of my fist, not giving the first fuck if it was considered rude. The door opened seconds later and the woman who’d birthed me but had never been a mother stared up at me in shock. It looked like she’s aged a decade and a half in the years I’d been gone, and I didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for finding humor in that. Guess all the pills and wine had finally beaten out anything plastic surgery could do.

“Jensen,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “What are you—how did you—I mean, it’s good to see you.”

The feeling definitely wasn’t mutual. “Where is he?” I growled, making her jerk back in fright.

“Wh-who?”

“Don’t play that bullshit game. You know who I’m talking about. Now where the fuck is he?”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply before barreling past her, giving her no choice but to skitter out of my way to keep from being mowed down. She called after me as I took the stairs two at a time, but I didn’t bother turning around.

I made it to the office and lifted my booted foot, kicking the door open with a crash.

My father shot up from his desk. “What in the world? Jensen? What the hell are you doing? A simple