Page 41 of Bona Fide

My father waves off the waiter when he approaches before turning his attention back to me. "So you buying votes and blackmailing people into becoming governor isn't like me? Boy, I ran that game before you were born. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and although my circumstances were different, I didn't have a bitch of a wife trying to edge me down a path I wouldn't be coming back from clean."

“Make your point, Dad, I’m running out of patience and whiskey for this conversation.”

“When you and Demi separated...she begged for it not to stop.”

I’m already sliding out of the booth to leave. “I’m fucking done.”

“Wait.” Arm stretched across the table, he tries to grab my sleeve to stop me.

Nostrils flared, I hit him with a scowl. “You think I want to relive the events of when I found out my father was fucking my wife?!” My father’s eyes jerk to the people dining around us then back at me. “I wish you would’ve kept her instead of pushing her onto me and calling her your daughter that you wanted to take care of.”

"You have to understand," he protests. "I'm an old man, being wanted by a young attractive woman who—shit, she got pregnant, wouldn't give the baby up. When you broke up with her, that's why she stayed away for a few months. Phoebe found out, wanted to tell you, but I told her I'd throw her out on her ass and to let me handle it. I thought I was going to be able to buy Demi out like I have everyone else. But she had the child anyway."

His fingers rub at one of his temples before blowing out a heavy breath.

"I wanted you to stay away from her. Already aware that she was a conniving bitch. But she overheard me talking to someone about you running for governor, then the wheels in her head started moving. She heard everything from you wanting to one day be president, to my supporting you with all the connections I had. She knew you'd make it—you will, and I'm not just saying that, Wade, you have the personality for people to adore and support you. When she, I guess, thought about what to do, she demanded that the both of you get together again. She wanted to be the First Lady, and as you can imagine, she'd out me and ruin my reputation if I didn't convince you.

"So we made an agreement, I would sacrifice my eldest son for my reputation, but if you didn't win governor, then she'd leave you. So I started to sabotage your campaign because I wanted her out of your life. I had her sign an agreement outlining terms that, if you lost, she had to keep her fucking mouth shut and couldn't take a dime from you. That's when she got into your head. I didn't know that she had until I started watching the polls, hearing that you bought people out of their shady dealings and demanded their support.

"When Camila died, I tried to have Demi killed." He hangs his head into his chest. "I saw what it was doing to my kids, your mother, that all of this was my fault. It was, I'm not denying that it was my selfishness that put us where we are. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Then she aborted your baby, I wasn't supposed to know about that, but I started having her watched. Then everything spiraled out of control with the two of you.

"This is all my fault. You and Demi, Phoebe and Camila. You have a brother that you don't know about that I support. Your life is in shambles because I didn't want my future to become ruined then fall onto you because you're my son. The scandal would never allow you to become what you truly wanted. She holds this child's head over me and you. So, now...you know everything."

I open my mouth, but no words come out. They stay dormant and stuck in my throat as I think back over almost a decade that I've known Demi. The months that we were apart and she didn't contact me or vice versa.

It’s because she was pregnant with my father’s fucking kid.

And the thought of Demi giving birth to a child in this world made me scared for said child. Her manipulative nature, the way she only cares about herself. The narcissist nature of her words. She said she didn’t want to give birth to our child because she didn’t want to get fat.

But she already had one—with my father.

“Where is the child?”

“He stays uptown so I can keep an eye on him,” my father falters. “He has the best education, the best tutors, everything he needs.”

“But his parents,” I deadpan.

He lifts his chin, and I notice the redness in his eyes. "Better that than what Demi wanted for him."

My stomach starts to twist. This is more fucked up than I thought. “Does she see him?”

“Since she’s been back in the states, twice, but other than that—no. I try my best to go to all his football games and—”

“He plays football?”

"Yes. He's quite good, actually." His lips quirk. "Takes after his old man and older brother."

My jaw twitches. “Where?”

“Ridgemont.”

"What position?" I don't want to know, but I do. I'm a brother and a stepfather to some kid that I never knew existed.

What is he like? Is he lonely like I am? Is my father a better dad to him because I know Demi is a cunt?

“Wide receiver.” Sliding out of the booth, I grab my coat. “Where are you going? I haven’t even grabbed the waitress yet to order our food.”

“I got shit to do,” I reply, throwing my arm through one of the sleeves. “Have a good lunch.”

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