Page 110 of Bad Boy
Fuck, I’m rattled.
“Stand up,” Logan demands, motioning with the gun. He shuts the door quietly behind him, not taking his eyes or his aim off of me.
I hate that I’m frozen, but he’s the one person on this planet that can really fuck with me. Really get inside my head. And what the hell can I do against a gun?
“Be a good son for once, and do as you’re fucking told! Stand. Up!”
Linc startles at his angry shout, sucking in a breath when he opens his eyes to a strange man with a gun at the foot of our bed, lit only by the moonlight streaming in from my open curtains.
“Shhh,” I whisper into his ear. “Just do what he says. Don’t try anything. Let me handle it. I love you, baby.”
“Enough! You don’t want to test me, Remi. Your little boyfriend stays here.” He waves his gun toward Linc, threatening him, finger on the trigger like the dumbass he is. “If you don’t want him hurt, don’t call the cops, and don’t tell your whore-of-a-mother or her newboyfriend.”
I clench my jaw, growling under my breath as I wrap my arms around Linc and pull him close.
“I’m scared,” he whispers, his body trembling in my arms.
Logan won’t touch him. I won’t allow it. No one else will ever harm a hair on his beautiful auburn head. I will riot for him. Fucking kill and die for him, all in the same breath.
And my father is completely oblivious to that fact as he continues to go off on a rant, speaking about Mom likeshewas the one cheating and being a deadbeat this entire time, not him.
“Stop,” I growl, unable to listen to it anymore.
He barks out a cruel laugh. “Always were a sensitive little mama’s boy.” His vicious smile turns into a snarl. “But when you look weak, I look weak. Now get the fuck up.” He starts around the bed, toward Lincoln’s side.
I jump up immediately, unconcerned by my near nudity in the tiny black boxer briefs I’m wearing.
“Okay! Okay!” I hold my hands up in front of me in mock surrender. I won’t ever surrender to him.
“I’m up. Just leave him alone. This is between us.”
My father laughs maniacally, completely off his fucking rocker. He shakes his head and mumbles something that sounds like “so fucking gay” under his breath.
“I’ll stay here and keep lover boy company, so make sure you don’t do anything stupid,” he sneers. “I’m guessing you know all of your grandfather’s security codes.” His teeth peel back even further, adding to his menacing glare. “Now go empty his safe and grab all of his watches. And pocket watches. I really like this silver one with my son’s name on it. Seems like it was madejustfor me.” The twinkle in his eye is like a steel blade, ready to strike where it hurts, cutting to the quick.
My hands curl into fists, which he doesn’t miss, laughing cruelly as he slipsmypocket watch into his jacket. The pocket watch that Gramps just gave me. The pocket watch that meanssomuch to him. A family heirloom he had specially engraved for me. He even added a chain long enough to hang out of my pants, just like “kids do these days,” as Gramp says.
If Logan didn’t have a gun on me, he’d already be unconscious. But he does, so I have to stand here while he continues to talk shit. I know he’s trying to get a rise out of me.
“I couldn't help but notice he likes quality timepieces, so I think I’m gonna cash in on the family antiques. Claim my own inheritance. Maybe even grab one of those weird fucking bird clocks on the wall downstairs. Don’t think he’d even miss it.”
“We’re not your family,” I snap, unable to stop myself. Feeling protective over Gramps and his clocks and hismoney.
Logan rears his hand back and slaps me across the face. My head jerks to the side from the impact, cheek stinging. The familiar metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but at least he didn’t cold-cock me with his pistol.
“Don’t talk back, you little shit. You’d do well to remember that.”
I clench my jaw tightly, molars grinding in restraint. If he puts that gun down, I will fuckingmurder him. With my bare hands. Lincoln’s quiet sobs have rage burning through me. My eyes narrow in on my target.
“Now listen up. Keep quiet, and we can go our separate ways after this. I won’t bother you again. You can live yourhomosexuallife,” he sneers, eyeing my nearly naked body, then Lincoln tucked in bed with the covers pulled to his chin. “And you can tell your mother to send me the divorce papers.”
He’s fucking delusional if he thinks he’s going to takeanythingfrom my family and walk away a free andunharmedman.
“I only want you to share a little bit of the wealth. For putting up with your disobedient ass for eighteen years. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for, Remington. Do you?”
I know better. I fuckingknowbetter. But it still doesn’t stop the aggressive words from tumbling from my lips.
“You’re. Not. Getting. Shit.”
