Page 93 of Lavish
Erik shook his head. “Miles?—”
“You knew what it would do to my family. You knew what it would do to me.” I couldn’t believe he did it. Betrayed me like this.
“I also knew what it was doing to my family. To this city.” His voice cracked just enough to make me flinch.
I shoved off the car. “So you just decided you were judge, jury, executioner now? Huh? You decided you knew better than me?”
“I went back to Whitmore Ventures last night because you left your jacket in my car,” he said quietly. “I walked in and saw Omar.”
I was breathing hard as I watched him, and he had the nerve to look upset.
“He was with Mayor Johnson. Doing lines in your father’s damn office. Didn’t even lock the fucking door. You didn’t see it, man. But I did. And in that moment, everything made sense.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You—no. You’re twisting this.”
“I’m not.” Erik stepped forward. “He was coked out of his mind, Miles. With the mayor. You wanna pretend it was one mistake, one bad night? Fine. But I’ve been watching him spiral since Woody died… And so have you.”
“I haven’t?—”
“You have.” His voice rose. “You just didn’t want to admit it because then you’d have to stop playing the loyal son.”
“He’s still my dad, man.”
I didn’t come here to fight with Erik. I wanted to apologize. Maybe even come clean about Serena and me. That was the plan. Not this.
But Erik was right.
I didn’t want to admit this. Admit that my father was weak.
Pops wasn’t Pops anymore. He’d stopped showing up to meetings. Stopped shaving. Was staying out late and stumbling home smelling like liquor and smoke. Some nights, I heard himarguing with Ma so loud I thought the neighbors would call the cops.
“You’re standing there defending the man who nearly killed my father, and you expect me to what—nod along? You got more fucking balls than that, Miles.”
“I’m not defending?—”
“You are!” he roared. “Every excuse, every ‘he didn’t mean it’—that’s defending, Miles! You know I love you, man, but if it was me in your position, I would want you to keep it real.”
“Keep it real? That meant tellingLush Chronicles? People are already blacklisting us, man—our phones are ringing off the hook, Ma can’t even go to the fucking store.”
Erik’s head dropped.
“He’s not some monster. He’s my father,” I said, desperate now, but then anger filled me. “Is this that ‘King tough love’ you trying to show? That perfect family bullshit you always hide behind? My family doesn’t roll that way.”
Erik’s eyes narrowed.
“My family’s having issues, and all you do is judge. Like your dad isn’t cold as fuck at times. You think your mama’s love means shit when you have to earn it every second of your life? Nah. That’s not a family, that’s a fucking brand. My family might be messy, but at least we give a damn about each other behind closed doors. So don’t sit here looking fucking down on me like your life ain’t fucked up too.”
Something shifted in Erik’s face—something small, but real. That one landed.
“That’s your whole family. Just one big, shiny lie wrapped in designer clothes and fake-ass smiles. Maybe if y’all were real, more fucking people would like you and not just tolerate you.”
“So that’s what you do? Tolerate me?”
“Yeah. I guess I do.”
“So that’s what we on?” Erik finally said.
I nodded. “That’s it.”
