Page 3 of Ruin
“Told you I would.” My father chuckles. “Boys, come say hi to your Uncle Lucian. Wish him a happy birthday.”
You’d think we were ten by the way he speaks to us. It grates on my nerves. I’m not an imbecile, my IQ is probably double his. Also, Lucian is not our uncle. No way, no how. They’re friends from high school. That’s it. No shared DNA, no shared family. That’s where I would have drawn the line, no matter how hot and irresistible he is.
Lucian got out of our Podunk town and made it big a long time ago; my father stayed back to be in the MC—dragging me and my brother down with him.
If only my mother were still alive, maybe things would be different.
“Happy birthday, Uncle Lucian,” Kaison says, giving him a hug. “You’re officially old.”
Lucian laughs, along with a few of the other people around the table. I recognize two of them—hiswifeand his son. The rest of the people are complete strangers to me, though I’m sure I’ve seen them through the years. We come to every birthday party he has. It’s fucking torture.
“Forty-five isn’t old, Kaison.”
“Come on, Kolton.” My father urges me with a shove that probably looks polite to anyone who notices it, but his knuckle digs into my spine, something that’ll surely leave a bruise.
I move over, hating that I’m being forced to do this. Not only hug someone when I don’t want to be touched, but to hughim. But I’d hate to know what the repercussions would be if I went against my father. It’s not worth it. I’d much rather deal with the hurt and fight my anger all night than deal with what would happen otherwise. Though the worst of his abuse stopped a few years ago, he’s still a piece of shit.
There’s a glint of sadness in Lucian’s eyes when I meet them. If he thinks I feel bad, I don’t. If he thinks I’ll forgive him, I won’t. Not after what he did.
Promises, promises.
“Happy birthday,” I say, forcing a smile.
He smiles in return, pulling me in for a hug. His scent envelopes me and my body reacts without me wanting it too.That’s the problem with Lucian. When I’m around him, I lose myself. I don’t know who I am, and I can’t control a fucking thing. I’m a puppet and he’s my puppeteer. It’s gross.
“You look so fucking hot in this suit, Kolton,” he whispers, his breath warm on my skin..
I pull away from him, scowling, hating the way my skin lights up at his approval.
I did always enjoy his approval, and that’s the worst part about this whole thing. He gives me exactly what I need, and I need it so fucking bad that I allow all the bad shit, too. I let him hurt me because the good stuff is great. He makes me weak, and it’s pathetic.
We take our seats and I zone out for the rest of the meal. Because I refuse to fall into his trap again. I can’t let him take another piece of my heart.
Twenty-six years old…
“I did it, Kolton. I finally did it.”
It’s hard to believe what he’s saying, but he’s shoving papers toward me and grinning a mile wide, so he must be telling the truth. I take them to look them over.
They are actual divorce papers.
“You did it?” I ask, my heart doing a flip in my chest. Though it’s right in front of my face, it’s still hard to believe.
When he called and told me to meet him at our place, an abandoned park off the main road, because he had good news, I rolled my eyes.
But I still came.
He’s been telling me this for years, and for years I’ve allowed him to pull me along on a string. Because I’m pathetic and desperate for his attention.
Yet, here I am.
“I did. I dropped them off first thing this morning,” he says, his hands going to my waist.
My eyes flick from the papers to him, and I see the joy in his eyes. The happiness, the excitement, the… freedom.
Freedom that I will now have, too.
“So, we can—” I can’t even finish the words. This is surreal and speaking them is hard. It makes them real. I still can’t believe that this is happening.
