run my life, and I’m not going to let that happen.
Ryker James Winston isn’t easily controlled.
“Hire her, him, whoever.” I stand, shoving up out of the chair and crossing the small space that separates us. My body pressing up against his, our chests touching and our faces only inches apart. A part of me wants to fight him, to stir the pot. The other part of me—the part I suppress all day long—misses the relationship we used to have. “Hire them, and I promise they’ll quit within the first hour,” I threaten. “Zero fucks given, Reed. If you push the issue, I will push back.”
I stand my ground, nostrils flaring. The thought of punching him in his smug-ass face crosses my mind more than a few times in that moment.
Something is wrong with me. I’m changing, and I don’t recognize the man I’m becoming. The words my father said to me a few days prior to his death ring out in my mind. “Everyone experiences grief in a different way. I don’t want it to change you, son. Promise me you won’t let it.”
“Push back all you want Ryker, but it’s still happening. I’m the CEO. I’m your boss, the boss of everyone who works here, and I have to do what is best for the company, regardless of whether you like it.” This is insanity at its finest, and Reed and Remy don’t care that they’re poking the bear.
They want what they want and fuck what I say. I growl, turning on my heel and walking out the door. They let me leave without either of them saying another word, thankfully, because I’m not sure I can hold myself back from saying something shitty.
Reed thinks he’s such a fucking grown-up now. He has Fallon, the woman of his dreams, a woman that he almost didn’t have because he was too stupid to realize it. Now, he has a son on the way, and a big bright future. All I have is a bottle of whiskey and a list of women to fuck.
Talk about life goals.
I enter my office, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls rattle with the surge of energy flowing through them. Pent-up aggression isn’t really my thing, and yet here I am with anger flowing through my veins.
Why did he have to die?
My fist lands against the mahogany wood desk without much thought, causing some of the contents to rattle and fall to the floor. I know I’m not handling the loss of him very well, even if he did prepare all three of us for months.
I told him over and over again there’s no way to prepare for someone’s death. I should’ve taken my own fucking advice. Slumping down into my office chair, I log onto the server to access my emails and try to get some work done.
“Whatever is going on with you, you need to get it together or swallow it the fuck down.” Remy’s voice meets my ears, and I lift my eyes from the screen and to look up at him instead. Just looking at him, one would never have believed he was our father’s son. He looks more like our mother with his fairer hair.
Though, he still has the Winston genes, with a perfectly sculpted jawline, and angular features. As egotistical as it sounds, us Winston’s are hot enough to grace the covers of GQ Magazine if we wanted to.
“Great advice, Rem, I’ll save that for next time. In the meantime, feel free to fuck off.” Neither Remy nor Reed understand how badly Father’s death consumes me. Add that to my obsessing over the woman I spent the night with, and I’m almost too pissed to function.
“Maybe you won’t confess it to Reed,” he starts, completely ignoring my comment and coming the rest of the way into the office to take a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk, “but you can’t lie to me. I know for a fact there’s something deeper going on here.” His grin is sincere, not because he’s an asshole who likes to wind me up like Reed.
“How do you do it?” I surprise even myself by asking the question.
He looks a little confused. “Do what? Move on?” Just the words make emotions tug at my heart. I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate letting people know how I feel because that shows weakness, and weakness is something men don’t show. God knows Dad told us all that