Page 10 of Don't Make Me Beg
I slap his hand off my shoulder like I’ve just been electrocuted. “Fuck off. You knew what you were doing. You assholes set me up.” My eyes scan the crowd until they land on Jett, and I give him one more silent plea. “Please. I’ll do anything you want!” I mouth, clasping my hands in prayer.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, exaggerating his silent words, “No way.” Then, with a mocking smile, he offers two enthusiastic thumbs up.
I bite my lip and shake my head. The sight of my broodiest brother acting so uncharacteristically goofy almost makes me crack a smile, but when Roman clears his throat and asks everyone to find their seats, I’m quickly cemented back to reality.
Realizing my protests are useless, I shove my clenched fists in my pockets and step aside, allowing Roman to kick off the meeting. Let’s just get this over with.
“Welcome, everyone,” he begins, flashing his signature dimpled smile. “I’m sure you’re all excited to hear tonight’s announcement, so let’s jump right in, shall we?
“As you all know, the popularity of the Phantom Festival has grown exponentially, and our goal is to continue that explosive success to make the biggest impact possible. So, this was not a decision that was made lightly.
“After a lot of thought and careful consideration, I am pleased to announce that this year’s Phantom Festival will be led by none other than…our very own Luka Kingsley!”
Gasps of shock and whispered disgruntlement fill the silent room while Jett provides the sole clap of encouragement.
Well, damn…tough crowd. I wasn’t expecting a parade or anything, but a guy could use a little enthusiasm…
“You can’t be serious!”
“Is this a joke?”
“All right, all right, let’s all settle down. There’s no need to panic, I promise you’re in good hands,” Roman, says as he taps the gavel to get everyone’s attention.
“Do you really expect us to be happy about this? Is he even qualified?”
“Is that even legal?”
I snap my eyes toward the back of the room, and judging by the way everyone’s glaring, it could have been any one of them who made the comment.
Not that it really matters. It’s obvious they’re all thinking the same thing.
“No offense, but are we sure that’s the image we want to portray? I mean…do you think businesses will feel comfortable associating with acriminal?”
“All right, everybody, calm down. My brother is more than capable of putting together a successful event, and you all know his past mistakes have nothing to do with his leadership or organizational abilities.”
“What about Inn? In order to accommodate the town’s growing needs, I’ve had to close for the renovations and expansion. If we screw this up, all of the lost months of income and costs to expand could be sunk!” Colleen calls out, using a folded flier to fan herself.
“Last year, Miss Ivy set a certainexpectation. Do we really want to disappoint everyone by dropping the ball?” Big Dan, the owner of Auto Shop, asks, not even trying to hold back his glare.
“Trust me, your balls are safe in my hands,” I assure them, but my joke doesn’t even get as much as a snicker. Instead, the room falls silent as everyone exchanges worried looks. Except for Jett, who’s watching the whole thing with wide eyes and the closest thing to a smile his face can muster.
Roman cuts his eyes at me and not so subtly elbows me in the ribs. “What he’s trying to say,” he says with a tight smile, “is this is a team effort and while Luka istechnicallythe new chairman,yourvoices are just as important.” He taps the gavel again, this time more for show. “Now, why don’t we spend the rest of our time focusing on something productive. Let’s open it up. Does anyone have any ideas? Feel free to shout them out.”
“Maybe keep him away from the historical buildings,” someone else calls out.
“Unless they need a new coat of paint,” another voice adds, followed by a ripple of laughter.
I shove my clenched fists into my pockets and rock back on my heels, trying not to look bothered by their digs. Would it even be a town meeting without my past being thrown in my face? After all these years, you’d think I’d be used to it, but the truth is that it still catches me off guard at times.
It’s not that I really care what these people think of me… Hell, half the time, I benefit from it. I like keeping a low profile. I like knowing that no one expects more of me. The bar that they judge me by is basically underground, and that suits me just fine.
It means nobody bothers me or expects me to do anything more. And despite being part of the most influential family in town, I have the privilege of carrying zero guilt.
Everyone already assumes I’m a fuck up. Might as well enjoy all the perks.
But I’m only human, and I’d be lying if I said that there weren’t moments where I wish I could wipe the crimson stain off my name and start over. Not just for me, but for my family too.
I’m almost relieved when the bells above the door chime, giving everyone something else to focus on.
