Page 26 of Bought and Broken

Fucking hell, I’m already regretting paying for her. I’d regret her being here if she were free.

“Son? Hello, son?”

“Yeah?” I say, blowing out a sharp breath and giving the peanut butter mess my back as I bring the phone to my ear.

It was the only jar I had, and now I don’t have any for my smoothie, which just puts me in a bad fucking mood.

“Did you hear anything I said?” my father asks.

“No.”

“Sheila called. She—”

“Absolutely not. Don’t even ask.”

I already know where this is going. Gunner talked to his mother and asked her to talk to my father because he needs something. Not fucking happening. Not from me. Not in a million goddamn years.

“Oh, come on, Tatum. He just wants a job, and he used to be your brother.”

“Used to being the operative words, and step-brother, which means shit, if you ask me. You’re as crazy as he is if you think I’m letting him work for me.”

It’s obvious that’s where this is going. What else could he possibly want?

“Do your old man a favor, huh? I gave you that damn company.”

“The asshole was at an auction last night. Merch starts off at 500k. The man isn’t hurting for money, and as I previously stated, he’s a piece of shit.”

Not quite what I said, but close enough.

“It’s not about the money. We know they have it. He just wants something to do during the day.”

“Tell him to get a wife.”

“Tatum—”

Gunner is pulling some shit, I just don’t know why. He has enough experience under his belt to get a job anywhere, why ask me when he knows I’d never say yes? He probably wants inside information. Or to burn it to the ground and make it look like an inside job so I don’t get insurance money. I won’t put anything past that rat-faced bastard. I don’t trust him; therefore, he isn’t working for me—now or ever.

“It’s the least you could do for me, son.”

I look upwards, talking myself down from telling him off.

It’s the least I could do for him? What has he ever done for me? Sure, he gave me the company, but only because it was going under and he didn’t want to deal with it. Pretty sure that’s the only thing he’s ever given me in his life. Other than his sperm to make me. Though, he didn’t give that to me. He gave it to my bitch of a mother who couldn’t even stick around long enough to name me. The damn nurses at the hospital did.

My father is nowhere near winning father of the year. He was never around, always too busy living his life to give a fuck about the fact he had a son who needed him. No way in hell am I doing a damn thing for him.

“No,” I say firmly. “Is there anything else you need?”

He sighs heavily. “One of these days, you’ll get over whatever your problem is with Gunner and—”

“Is there anything else you need?” I say again.

“Suppose not.”

“Then I have to go.”

I end the call before he can say another word.

Why the hell would he want me to hire Gunner? Why is he doing anything for Sheila? They’re divorced. And they weren’t on good terms when they split, considering he’s the one who found her with a dick up her ass and she wanted nothing to do with a divorce. The man is a fucking mess.

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