Page 3 of Jack

He did not see the beauty before him. Hehad a suite of rooms that was befitting his position as son to amulti-billionaire, but he would happily trade it for one kind wordfrom his father. A hug, a word of encouragement—anything.

A profound sadness descended on his thinshoulders. His mother had not wanted anything to do with him and hadgiven up her rights as a parent. She had taken the money and gone herown way, never reaching out. And his dad was too busy to even spendtime with him.

"Jason—"

"No." Turning to face hisgrandmother, he squared his shoulders and took a breath. "It'sfine. I am fine. You don't have to be here monitoring me. I know hetold you to, but I am going to stay in my room and read a book orsomething." He shrugged. "I am fine."

Millicent rose and could swear that she wasfeeling every inch of her sixty-five years. She just stopped herselffrom going to him and embracing him. He looked so defeated and shecould not stop the anger and frustration rising up inside her.

Jack refused to even entertain a discussionwith her regarding his own son. He was inaccessible, remote and cold.And she could not blame him. His own life had been hell. His fatherhad put him through the wringer, and she had done nothing to stop itfrom happening.

As a result, Jack had retreated behind anarmor that could not be pierced, and she had tried. And failed.

Forcing a smile, she turned towards thedoor.

"I will send up something for you toeat. You barely touched your supper."

Jason hunched his shoulders and shoved hishands into the pockets of his faded denims. "I'm not hungry."

"You're a growing boy and you need toeat." She stopped at the door, turning to look at him, an acherising up inside her.

There was no doubt that he was a Hadley. Hehad the same clear-cut features, stubborn chin with the slightindentation, somber gray eyes and thick brown hair, threaded throughwith gold. And he had inherited the lofty height. Even at fourteenyears of age, he was tall and gangly, all angles and bones.

He was his father's son and that had beenevident as soon as that heartless woman had showed up at theirdoorstep with the three-week-old baby, demanding her share of the"fortune," as she termed it then.

Jack had been prepared to fight it, hadcalled his lawyers to deal with the situation, but it had been clearto see that the child was his. A Hadley, through and through. And shehad taken on the responsibilities of bringing the child up and he hadlet her.

She had been the one to hire a nanny andsupervised his upbringing. Jack stayed out of it and out of thechild's way, unless there was a discipline problem. He did not have abond with his son and that saddened her as she realized that historywas repeating itself. And she was helpless to stop it from happening.

Stepping out, she closed the doors behindher and stood with her hands clasped in front of her. She had no ideawhat to do.

*****

He buried himself in work. That was thesolution, had always been a panacea to him. When things were out ofhis realm, he worked. He had a hell of a lot of responsibilities, andhe was damned good at what he does. What he was not good at, not evenadequate, was being a father. He had a lousy example and Jason—hisson had not been planned.

Now they were stuck with each other and theboy was good at pissing him off.

"He's trying to get your attention."His mother had told him quietly. Well, he was damned well getting it.The idea had entered his mind to ship him off to an exclusiveboarding school, but the verymention of it had sent his mother into a panic and tears.

Shoving the contract aside, he lunged tohis feet and walked swiftly over to the recessed cabinet. Touchingthe button, he grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey and poured agenerous amount. Taking it with him, he stood at the floor to ceilingwindow to stare out at the immaculate grounds.

He had issued his ultimatum, made hisruling and that was bloody that. The boy would pull his socks up andstay in line or the consequences would be dire. He did not have timefor this. The new shopping mall in the heart of thriving downtown wastaking up his time. The apartment building in the same area gearedtowards the young, hip young people was stalled for inspections bythe county. That was losing his company money. And on top of it all,he had to deal with a rebellious teenager.

Dammit! He tossed back the drink and wantedto toss the heavy glass straight into the fireplace. But he did nottolerate exhibitions and was known for his cold temperament. He didnot believe in giving into tantrums. That had been drummed into himby a man who had ice water running through his veins. His father hadbeen a cold son of a bitch and had passed that—hell, haddrummed it into his head.

"Emotions make you weak boy. Andvulnerable."

Finishing the drink, he strode over to hisdesk. He had work to do. When the school had called, he had been inthe middle of some negotiations and it had pissed him off royally tohave to leave to deal with this nonsense.

Well, enough was enough. One more fall frombloody grace and it was boarding school for the boy. Just one more.

*****

Jason sat on the edge of the bed andrefused to allow the tears from falling. He secretly loved his fatherand feared him. Jack Hadley was a stranger to him, even after allthese years. The longing to have a relationship with the man consumedhim and was the propellant to do something to gain his attention, butit always backfired.

The man did not rail at him. He never getsphysical, never puts his hands on him, but then again, he did nothave to. His tone alone could slice like a knife, cutting throughbones and touching the nerves. Sometimes he wondered if his fatherhad blood running through his veins. He had never seen him smile.

He was up early in the mornings and homelate at nights. They rarely had supper together. It was always himand his grandmother.

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