Page 105 of Bad Boy
“I think you’ve been fighting again.”
My lips flatten into a thin line. Of course she does. And I was, but it still pisses me off.
“Your husband says hello.” I know I’m being an asshole, but I’m rattled. And he’s still out there.
Mom gasps again. “You saw your dad?”
I turn my icy glare on her, my fingers curling into fists until the bite of my nails into my palms calms the storm raging inside.
“No,” I say through clenched teeth. “I met hisfriends.” I emphasize the word “friends” sarcastically before motioning to my face. “And they had a message to deliver.”
“There must be a misunderstanding, Remi. Logan would never do something like that. Sure, he wasn’t always reliable or faithful, but he’s never put his hands on us.”
“There’s no misunderstanding, Mom. He did this, and he’s still out there, coming for me. You hid this whole other world from him and me. Now he knows we have money, and he wants it.”
“Remi—”
I cut her off, needing to get more off my chest. “They jumped me.Andmy boyfriend.Lincoln.They fucking jumpedLincoln, Mom.”
“Oh, baby—”
“No,” I interrupt her once again. “I could have been here with Lincoln my whole life, Ma! With Grady. Sierra. With Gramps!” I glare at her. “How could you take that away from me?” I don’t let her answer; I just keep going. It’s a long time coming. “And for what? To run away with your shitty boyfriend who knocked you up?!” I shout at her, past my breaking point. It’s harsh. Cruel, really. But she has no clue the hell he put me through these last couple of years.
“Because you would have beenhere! Withher! Asherson! Not mine! She wanted to raise you as her own. Or have you not exist at all. . .” She whispers the last sentence, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“What?” I ask, completely confused. We’re switching from one fucked up parent to the next, and it’s throwing my head for a loop.
“Yes. Please explain. Both of you.” Gramps strolls into the library, an unusual fire blazing in his dark eyes. He’s switched from doting old Gramps to his problem-solving CEO alter ego.
“Mom,” she whispers. “And her ultimatum.”
“Dad. And his violent goons,” I add ruefully, pointing to my fucked up face.
Grandpa rounds the chair and gets a better look at me. The open curtain allows silver moonlight to pour in, showcasing their handiwork. There’s no overhead lighting in this space—only the giant arched windows and colorful Tiffany lamps dispersed around the room.
“Good God,” he says in a gasp, eyes scanning my injuries.
“Nope. Just Logan Michaels,” I reply with a bite, unable to tamp down the smartass. It’s my go-to defense mechanism.
“Your father sent men. . . to dothis?”
“Yeah. He wants your money. Becausesomeonenever told him about it.” I glare at Mom, and she ducks her head, probably questioning every decision she’s ever made and rightfully so. “Or me. And I can at least agree that it was shocking as fuck to find out.”
I tuck my arms more tightly around myself, feeling a little vulnerable about this next part. Because I couldn’t protect him fully. Because he gothurt. On my watch. “And they got Linc pretty good, too. Fucking chased us around downtown Asheville slinging homophobic slurs and everything. Luckily, we were able to get to Otto’s. That’s the only reason things didn’t go worse.”
“You went to Otto?” Mom questions, eyebrows pulling together in the center.
I roll my eyes. Annoyed that she asks about him out of all that shit I just said. I may have just put him in the dog house, but too fucking bad.
“Yes. Embarrassingly enough. He was our knight in shining armor. And Coach. And Sasha.”
Fuck.
That’s humiliating now that I think about it.
Gramps leans against the mantle and rubs his chin speculatively.
“Well, to address one thing at a time. Remi, dear boy, I want to ensure that you know I support you and your life choices.”
