Page 2 of Ruin
“You know I can’t.”
“You can, you just don’t want to.”
I huff an annoyed sound and roll away, shoving him off me. He has no idea how much of a dick my father is, and he has no idea what it’s like being in the club. I don’t understand how they’re friends at all—they’re so different. Not only as people, but their lives, too.
My father is a prick who treats his kids like shit and only cares about the club, which includes doing shitty things.
Lucian is a kind man who loves his son so much that he’s his first priority, even over his job as a surgeon.
Though, to be fair, my father only shows his true colors in private. No one knows how awful he is but me. So maybe it’s a me thing and not him. Maybe it’s just me who brings out the worst in him.
“You have no room to talk to me about things Iwantto do, Lucian. You’re the one who’s still married.”
Though it’s dark, I make out the disappointment on his face. It happens so often it’s burned into my memory.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, youtoldme. But I haven’t actually seen anything yet. It’s been six months.”
“Getting a divorce isn’t a quick task, Kolton.”
“Which is why it should have been started the dayafteryou told me you were going to do it. But, let me guess… something came up?”
I hold his gaze, knowing what’s coming. But even knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less. He sighs, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. He’s just over forty, but you’d never know it. There isn’t a single wrinkle or grey hair, even with the stressful life he has.
The moonlight shines in from the windows behind him, causing him to look like nothing more than a dark shadow. I guess it’s what he is most of the time. At least when it comes to me.
“You just don’t understand,” he says, getting to his feet.
Because you’re so young.
I don’t miss the words he doesn’t say. He’s said them enough for me to know it’s exactly what he means. The only reason he doesn’t say them is because the last time he did, I threatened to stab him. He’s aware of how I grew up, and is familiar enough with the club, so he knows I will fucking stab him. Though, I’d most likely regret it after the blinding rage disappeared.
“Yeah, I guess I don’t.” I pull the door open and leave my own bedroom, needing to get away from him. He never listens to me, so there’s no point in asking him to go.
Twenty-three years old…
“Can you at least fucking smile?” my father grits out as he pulls the door of the way-too-fancy restaurant open. “We’re on vacation, Kolton, Christ.”
He only uses my real name when he’s mad at me. When we’re at the club and he wants to play the part of a loving father, he calls me Snapper. I earned that name on my first run, and I deserve for it to be used just like all the other guys in the club. But he doesn’t give a fuck what I want because I’m not Kaison, the prized eldest son that no one can hold a candle to.
Also, this vacation sucks ass. I didn’t want to come in the first place. Who the fuck wants to vacation in New York City? Add being made to wear some scratchy suit that’s too tight around my balls, and I’m ready to murder someone. Of course, that too is only acceptable when he wants it.
“Yeah, I’ll try.”
Kaison elbows me. When I look at him, he gives me a look likewhat the fuck is wrong with you?He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand any of this. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t have the faintest clue of what I fucking deal with from our father. Kaison’s head is shoved too far up his ass to notice anything else going on around him.
Getting to the table is a blur. There are bright lights that flicker too much. Music and chatting that hurt my ears because it sounds exactly like nails on a chalkboard. The suit was alreadybothering me, but now the hem of my sock is twisting in my shoe. Yeah, I’m about to lose it.
The moment we’re in view of the large table, though, I feel him. It’s impossible not to. His eyes are like laser beams that burn holes right into my skin. I used to like it—love it, crave it. Now, I loathe it. Loathe him for what he did. For fucking ruining me.
Promises, promises.Everyone always has promises. No one ever wants to pull through. No one ever says what they mean.
“Jack,” Lucian says, getting to his feet with a bright smile. It enrages me. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Lucian. You know that.” My father grins back like some politician.
“And you brought the boys,” Lucian beams, as if he didn’t know we would be here too.
