Page 24 of Fragile

“So what.” I was purposefully being evasive. Why Garrett suddenly gave a shit about us having a house guest was beyond me. “Does Mother know you’re making enquiries about pretty girls?” I bated.

The air suddenly sparked with tension. “I imagine having a little tart so close by is a sex-on-tap scenario. But you can’t afford to be getting distracted, Gabriel. You can think about keeping your cock warm once you have aced your exams, and joined the team.”

My smile probably resembled a sneer but I attempted to look like I found him funny. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s with Asher,” I lied; more for him than me or so I told myself.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Is she really,” Garrett drawled, totally not buying it.

I placed the whisky glass on the counter and pushed it away with my fingers. “Yes. They’re friends, he says.”

“Just friends?” he queried; his tone meant business.

“I don’t involve myself in my brother’s sex life,” I deadpanned. “But I imagine they’re friends with benefits.” Why I decided to escalate the lie was beyond me; I appeared to be making myself jealous.

My father watched me in silence, weighing up my answer. My expression would give nothing away; I was still in training but had perfected my poker face years ago.

I could see him processing my words. After what felt like a decade, he replied.

“Well, I suppose that will make your mother happy,” Garrett said, half to himself as he screwed the lid back on the whiskey bottle.

“I’d like to meet this girl. I must admit we’d given up on your brother meeting anyone. I think your mother was starting to worry.” I didn’t ask about what, I knew exactly what they’d be shitting bricks about; the thought of one of their sons being queer; their words not mine.

The idea of Leonie meeting my father left a sick feeling in my stomach. Why did I suddenly feel so protective of her?

“So, the big day is close. How ready are you?” my father questioned, glancing back towards my stuff on the table. I toyed with my answer, I so wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

I held it together like the man he expected me to be, but it was hard. The reality that there was a chance I could flunk my finals was like a huge weight bearing down on me. Shrugging my shoulders I replied nonchalantly, “Ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.”

“Well, you just see that you are. The Kinlan’s want you on the team,” Garrett said, his tone now firm; like a warning. Our eyes locked together in silent battle. If I didn’t come out on top, my father would bury me. I would be seen as a disappointment, which was skewed as fuck considering I hadn’t needed to take my Master’s to practice in the first place. It was something I had wanted to do. Fuck it, I might even go on to do my PhD and refrain from having to get my hands dirty for another year. Although Garrett would probably cum in his pants. He’d love the opportunity to brag to his associates that his son had earned the title of Doctor.

“I won’t be joining you, Garrett. I want nothing to do with the Kinlan’s,” I explained in a firm tone.

“And who will sit on my throne when I’m gone?” my father suddenly questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t live forever Gabriel.” Yeah right. He was such a stubborn fucker; he’d probably outlive me.

Feeling the need to piss him off I threw out, “Maybe I’m polishing my own throne?”

My words bounced off him and he showed no reaction whatsoever, if anything, he smiled, if you could call the weird twist to his lips that. “Give my regards to your brother. Did he like the Audi?”

Ah yes, the Audi. My father had bought Asher an Audi Q5 having missed his birthday for the last two years. I would have said it was a guilt purchase, but I knew it would have been my mother’s doing. I’d chewed Garrett out during one of her visits and explained how he treated Asher like he didn’t exist.

Garrett snapped my thoughts back. “Oh, and say hello to his girl for me.” Like that was going to happen.

“Will do,” I husked with an edge to my voice.

Garrett stared at me for a moment longer as if trying to weigh something up. “I’ll leave you to your studies.”

“Good. Thanks for stopping by,” I snarked.

My father’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the drink,” he said, placing the bottle back with the others.

Short and sweet; the usual pattern for one of his visits. He only came by for an answer to his question about our new houseguest and once he had it, there was no need to linger. My father didn’t know the meaning of the word idle chit-chat.

Just before he left, he reminded me of my mother’s birthday which was in a few weeks, something about a family dinner, but I wasn’t listening. I had plans for the next six months as far as my dad was concerned and they didn’t involve me sweating my balls off at a table containing my dysfunctional family.

Once the lift doors had closed, I settled in front of my laptop and forced myself into work mode; I didn’t give a crap about Garrett’s veiled threat concerning my performance in my exams. I was doing it for me and my father could, once again, go fuck himself.

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