Page 84 of Believe In Us

“I have no time for your lousy story time father, so cut to the point, if you even have one.”

“Your grandfather prohibited me from seeing her, but I didn’t care. I gave her everything, took a chance on what I imagined we could become in my head. The thanks I got were a child I didn’t care for and an emptied-out trust fund.”

My heart sinks at the admission he never wanted me and the realization the woman he’s talking about is my mother. He knows. He has to know about Jade and me, he wouldn’t be telling me this little sob story if he didn’t, or at least suspected.

“So believe when I tell you this, you may think you know what you’re getting yourself into, but you have no fucking idea son. Your grandfather gave me a second chance to redeem myself after being conned by that conniving bitch. I feel it necessary to offer you the same.”

“You will take Kinsley to Prom, you will take her in your new car, you will buy her the most beautiful crystal beaded dress, you will give her the biggest bouquet of flowers, and when the time comes, you will get down to one knee,” he rams his foot into my knee, knocking me down to the floor, “And you will give her your grandmother Silvia’s diamond ring. You will do this with no, if, ands, or buts, or I swear to you my darling son, your lone, little wolf, will be nothing but a whore sold off to the highest bidder. You know well enough how many men, dirty, old, perverted scumbags, would pay a pretty penny for those sweet little lips.”

“You son of a bitch…”

“No, no, no. You sit your ass down son. Don’t underestimate my power. I have Kane wrapped around my finger, and he has his eyes set on your little toy. Step out of line, and well I’m tired of making my threats. You know what will happen if you don’t. You want to keep her around? Maybe we can talk. Take her as a lover perhaps if she’s up for it. But mark my words, you will marry Kinsley Carlyle, and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it.”

My breathing turns heavy, my blood piping hot coursing through me like a wave of all consuming fury. Darkness threatens to blind me, pain searing my skin with the reminder of how this will play out if I disobey him. Stephan Silver always gets his way and the wicked gleam in his gray eyes, the taunting smirk plastered on his vindictive face, prove he knows I will obey.

I’m nothing when it comes to my father, he holds the ability to turn me into the weakest, most pathetic little boy. The one who misses his mommy even though the bitch decided money was worth more than he was. The son who cried himself to sleep for years because daddy wouldn’t pay him any attention to him unless it was to chastise him or punish him for being weak. The scared little boy, afraid of the dark, terrified by the monsters under his bed, who became so obsessed with fighting them, he chose to become one. He turned me into one, into the meanest, most selfish bastard. To be just like him. I mean I got my girlfriend fucking pregnant, on purpose, just because I couldn’t deal with the fact she might decide she didn’t want me. Or that she would realize I wasn’t worth her sticking around.

I always believed strength made me who I was. I used to pride myself on the strength I manifested to endure my father’s archaic discipline, the vigor to make others cower down and obey my power.

But the reality is fear is the only true force that drives me. I let it consume my mind, dictate my behaviors, influence mydecisions, and worst of all, shape my relationships. With women, with my peers, but most of all with him.

I’m done being a worthless coward. I don’t just have my future to think about now, I have hers and our child’s. Jade deserves a man who will fight for her, one who will do whatever he can to ensure she is respected and taken care of, not a child who is still afraid of his father. My son or daughter deserves a father who will be there for them, to nurture and love them no matter their choices in life. I need to become that man and the only way to do so is to keep my old man away. For good.

So I nod my head, staring down at his feet like the coward he expects me to be, though in my heart I know this is the last time I’ll ever cower down to his authority. Slowly tilting my head up to look at him, I whisper the last thing he expects me to do, but the only phrase I know will satiate his need for control. “Show me the car.”

Chapter

Forty-One

JADE

Most teenage girls spend their entire childhood and adolescent years dreaming about days like today. They make scrapbooks, cut out magazine pages and create collages, even window shop in every boutique, planning, plotting, and predicting what their night will be like. The perfect dress, perfect hair, and perfect date. They giggle and gossip about who will ask who, which popular mean girl - or if you are the popular mean girl, which one of you - will be crowned queen. Though most of all, the most invigorating of questions is, will he be your king? Everyone has their own king, the teenage crush they picture watching them intently as they descend the spiral staircase in their gorgeous ball gown, then find themselves waltzing along the dance floor, his eyes never once leaving theirs. A total Cinderella Story moment. Each and every eighteen-year old’s high school existence leads up to this very moment.

Prom night.

Screw graduation, this is the moment we’ve been waiting for,the day we’ve been preparing for. Well most teenage girls, sadly that’s another category I don’t quite fit into. For me, today is just another reminder of how different my life has been and truly continues to be. Scar and I stand across from Stella, who’s happens to be one of those teenage girls I was talking about, dressed to the fucking tens, looking like a real-life princess. If the dress was pink, she’d give that Aurora chick a run for her money. Instead the expensive gown we chose for her is a long, beaded off white dress with an off the shoulder neckline, long sleeves, a corset bodice, and high slit on one side. We’ve curled her light auburn hair into soft barrel curls, applying the slightest bit of makeup on her already flawless facade.

She looks perfect.

“No matter what happens tonight Stella, you are our prom queen,” I murmur, teary eyed and so fucking proud at my newfound best friend, the perfect addition to our duo.

Scar stands beside me in her bra and panties, her small bump looking like she’s had one to many tacos. Her pregnancy is a whole four weeks ahead of mine, but our baby bumps, which are already slightly visible, are about the same size. “Oh Stella you're so beautiful,” Scar adds, the two of us complete and utter blubbering messes before her.

“Seriously guys, it’s like you swallowed a whole canister of feeling pills and are overdosing. Ever since you two became pregnant it’s like you’ve become, well me,” Stella says, laughing at the realization that we have in fact become Stella Silver. Overly emotional and dangerously sentimental.

Nonetheless, here we are, though not at all how we would have ever expected. Scar and I, eighteen years old and on our way to Prom, yet instead of wearing sensual form fitting gowns and turning ourselves into runway models for the night, we’re eating our feelings and stuffing our faces with all the junk food we can possibly find.

“Okay you girls need to get dressed,” Stella calls out as shestares at her own reflection in the mirror. “The guys are picking us up at seven, so we need to be ready, and it’s already five thirty.”

“Ugh fine, but I swear if at any moment tonight I pop out of this dress, that’s it, I’m fucking leaving.” I storm off, reaching for the garment bag hung on the outside of my closet. Scar and I came back to the dorms, figuring we could get ready here since the reception is going to be at an old Castle looking mansion down the road from the academy. “What’s the name of the creepy castle we’re going to?” I ask.

“Wyndham Castle, it’s an ancient palace that belonged to George Wyndham Masters. He was some sort of noble man, descended from royalty or something. His eldest grandson Henry owns it now but not as his primary residence, it’s more of a landmark now, rented out for events like today and other charity galas. Henry is actually Beckett’s father, so I guess technically the Castle, which is massive, not like our mansions but way bigger, belongs to Beckett.”

I shake my head, of course Beck, the posh little prince, owns a fucking castle. I carry the garment bag over to my bed and unzip it revealing a gorgeous, black silk gown, shimmering with rhinestones and actual fucking diamonds sown into its corset like bodice.

No fucking way. Sebastian Silver out-fucking-did himself.

“That dress is gorgeous Jade,” Scar shrieks, carrying over her dark red, beaded, lace gown.

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