Page 47 of Inevitable

I trudged up the stairs and down the long hall to his study, knocking on the last door on the right. “Come in,” my dad's aloof voice called out.

I pushed the door to the office open slowly, every self-preservation instinct I had kicking in and pleading with me not to go in there. Nothing good came from talking with my dad in recent years.

His study was a reflection of the man himself: cold, lifeless, but decorated just enough to be appealing to an outsider. I always hated coming in here as a kid because the stale energy in the room coupled with the gray and black motif created an ominous atmosphere that never failed to make me uncomfortable.

“Dad? Mom said you wanted to talk to me,” I said dispassionately, hoping that he just wanted a quick word about how things were going with school. I knew better, but one could hope.

“Ah, Bastian. Yes, I wanted to see how you've been getting on at school. We haven't talked much recently and I've been thinking about you,” Dad said with an artificial smile caked on his face.That was too easy…

The comment left me bristling, and I was quickly put on guard. My Dad only checked in on my well-being insofar as how it affected him. “Um, school's great. The classes are hard, but I'm getting through it okay. Still on track to graduate. Was that all, sir?” I replied, wanting so badly to retreat from the room.

“Good. That's good to hear. However no, that's not all. Tell me howyou and Ainsley are doing. Any new developments or progress being made there?” He gave me a sharp look that had me feeling uneasy.

“We're fine. Went to a Halloween party. Nothing much else to tell,” I shrugged, thinking it best to keep my answers short and simple where she was concerned.

“That's excellent, but Halloween was quite some time ago. Have you taken her out since? I sincerely hope you've been treating her with the respect that I raised you with,” Dad chastised. There was something about his remark that rubbed me wrong and had anger sparking under my skin.

“Well, maybe I would be more inclined to treat her better if I didn't feel that Mom was just a hostage here for you to threaten me with,” I snarled quietly. Dad's face flashed with quiet fury as he sat rigidly in his chair.

“Don't be impertinent, son. Watch how you speak to me,” he warned, his tone quiet and menacing.

I said nothing in response, remaining impassive and waiting for him to finish this conversation so I could lock myself in my room until dinner.

“You already know my terms as far as your mother and Ainsley are concerned. I won't rehash them, but I will remind you that I expect things between you to be moving in a good direction. Her father has been asking for some reassurance that you and his daughter are on the right path. I suspect an engagement by Christmas wouldn't be too impractical at this point,” Dad stated coolly, as if we were discussing his golfing plans for the weekend.

My body seemed to be malfunctioning, my brain going haywire and my heart struggling to pump blood to my vital organs. A wave of dizziness came out of nowhere, and I shook my head to clear it.

“Dad! What the hell? Christmas is in less than a month! I am in no way ready for that!”

“The beginning of summer, then. That should give you plenty of time to wrap your head around the idea and “get yourself ready” because youwillbe engaged to that girl before the start of your senior year,” he growled at me intimidatingly.

I'm not sure where the sudden burst of bravery came from, but I couldn't just back down. Not on this.

“What if I don't? What if I don't propose to her before then? Even you can't force that no matter what you threaten me with,” I said firmly, my voice shaking in the slightest, but thankfully he didn't appear to have noticed.

His face cleared a bit and he looked at me in a scrutinizing manner,cocking his head the tiniest bit to the right. “You're right about one thing. I can't force you. Just as you can't force me to continue to pay for your education or stop me from putting a call in to the Dean of the Psychology department at UT.”

My blood ran cold and my breathing halted altogether. “What the fuck does that mean?”

My dad's slow smile was smug, sinister with intent. “Your friend Micah must be doing well over there. He was always a smart boy, driven, hard-working. His parents and I had lunch recently and they were very proud of how he's doing with his Psychology degree. He dreams of being a psychiatrist someday, evidently,” My dad said casually, his mock interest making my anger elevate even more. “I was simply thinking I could put a call in to the Dean for him, just to put Micah on his radar.”

True to form, my Dad didn't have to explicitly voice his threats for them to come through loud and clear. I knew he held the purse strings to my college fund, but he also had the power to derail Micah's education with a single phone call. My father hadn't always had this power, but a couple of years into his political dealings had given him marked influence and unscrupulous connections. Most of the people in Texas knew his name by now, and that alone carried weight.

Queasy and battling between being sick or ripping his office to shreds, I knew I had been beat in this game of wits. It didn't matter what I said or how I fought back, Dad would find some new coercive tactic that would undoubtedly work to keep me underfoot.

When I remained silent and unmoving, Dad pasted on his artificial smile once more. “Wonderful. I'm very glad we've come to an agreement. Now, I'm sure dinner is almost ready, so I'll see you down there.”

I left his study only by strength of will, forcing one foot in front of another and fighting every compulsion I had to jump across his desk and strangle him. I didn't know how I would spend an entire week in that house with the man who raised me that I no longer recognized.

*****

I lasted until Wednesday. I spent a couple of days at home hanging out with Mom before I could no longer stomach being in the same house as my father. Each time I saw him at lunch or dinner, his fake smile and intimidating gaze brought up the rage and helplessness that was eating me alive. I finally got fed up and decided the holiday break would be much better spent back on campus with Micah.

When he had told me that his parents weren't going to be aroundfor Thanksgiving, my first instinct was to take him home with me so he wouldn't be alone. When I thought it through however, I came to the conclusion that bringing Micah to my house would be stirring a hornet's nest that neither one of us would be prepared for. After the hellish talk with my dad on Sunday, I realized I had been right in my assumption.

Now, all I could think about was getting back home to Austin…to him. Being without Micah was like living with a phantom limb. It wasn't there, but you could still feel its presence, and it drove you mad because all you wanted was to truly feel it again, to have it back.

He was in my blood, in my bones, woven into the fibers of my being. Each day resisting the pull to him was getting harder, and from the few charged moments we had together since the night of the Delt party, I would say my resolve was weakening. But I couldn't give in. It would be acutely selfish of me to cave to my love and lust for Micah. My mom would suffer and Micah himself would pay the consequences of my actions as well. I couldn't let the two people I loved most be subjected to my Dad's venom just so I could allow myself the freedom to be with him.

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