Page 118 of Worth Every Moment
He gives me a pitying look. “No, you wouldn’t. Not you, Sebastian. You couldn’t pull the trigger.”
My fingers flex.“I hope your next heart attack kills you.”
“Always such a sweet boy,” he says with false sincerity.
“Fuck you. I won’t do it. I won’t marry Diana, and I’ll tell Erica everything. Whatever you put out in the press about me, whatever story you spin, she’ll understand. I know she will.”
A sly smile crosses his face. “No one loves you that much, Sebastian. Don’t fool yourself. Although I can see why you think a glorified prostitute is all you deserve.”
I shove him, not caring that he’s older and weaker than I am. He staggers back into the room, hocking up little bursts of laughter like phlegm from the back of his throat as he goes. “Maybe if you killed me, you’d finally be a man.”
I can’t hold back any longer. I reach around his throat and force him back against the wall. We stumble awkwardly, knocking against a table. A lamp goes flying, shattering into pieces. I thump him against the wall.Hope his spine breaks. The wall shudders and his shoulder knocks a framed mirror to the floor. The crash is almighty.Explosive.
I barely notice, focusing on the way my fingers close around his throat, throttling him.
“Stop!” My mother’s voice, more lucid than I’ve heard it in years, slices through the room. In my peripheral vision, she flaps towards us like an unruly bird.
“Mrs Hawkston,” comes the shrill voice of the butler.
Dad’s choking and spluttering in my hands. He’s not the man he used to be. Physically, I’m stronger. If I wanted to, I could kill him with my bare hands. And I do fucking want to. But then he would win. I’d have his blood on my hands and his death on my conscience, and I’d end up in prison anyway.
I glance over my shoulder to where Mum is standing, her hands clutched to her mouth. “Please, let him go.”
Understanding spreads like sickness in my body, attacking each and every cell. It doesn’t matter how badly he treats her, she will always choose him over me. It doesn’t matter that I’m her blue-eyed boy, her baby, the darling son she wanted to hold on to. In this family, she’ll always choose Dad because there is no room for any other response.No one says no to my father. But she doesn’t deserve this—to have to witness the near murder of the man she chose to marry by her own son—not on top of everything else she’s endured over the years.
I release him, and he strokes his throat with one hand. “Good boy,” he croaks, and I want to fucking kill him all over again.
In the silence that follows, Mum teeters up on her tiptoes, clasping her hands before her. “Your father says you’re getting married. We’re very excited,” she says, although she soundsmore terrified than excited. The butler stares at the floor as if he can neither hear nor see any of us.
“I’m not getting married. Whatever you’ve heard, it’s bullshit. Sorry to disappoint.”
“But Diana is so lovely. So pretty. Such a charming girl. She’d be such a wonderful society wife.”
Revulsion roars through me like a tidal wave. Asociety wife.
“If you don’t obey me—” Dad begins, reminding me of the threat he wielded over me weeks ago.
“Fuck this. No.” Rage has tremors running through me. “I’m not going to do what you want. I am fucking done with you, and if you want to come after me, go ahead. Publish whatever the fuck you want about me. I’ll fight you on it. And I will fucking win. But please, for the love of God, wait until after the wedding. Don’t be a selfish bastard. This is Kate and Nico’s time. Don’t ruin it.”
I turn to leave, glancing at my mother as I pass, wondering how the fuck she stayed married to him all these years. Small wonder she numbed out completely with the nearest bottle of alcohol.
“Sebastian.” I’m nearly at the door when my name yanks at me like a hand on my collar, and I halt, turning back to my father. “You’ll regret this.”
I stand tall, meeting his gaze head on. “I willneverregret choosing Erica.”
41
ERICA
Seb sits on the end of the lounger. I’m sunbathing at our pool. It’s enclosed and private, surrounded by palm trees. Sunlight glistens on the water.
He drops his head in his hands, and I can tell from his posture that all is not well. He ran off like something was wrong when I mentioned his dad, saying he had to discuss something important, but he didn’t tell me what it was.
I sit up, rubbing his back. “Hey. You okay?” He shifts under my hand, almost like he doesn’t want to be touched, so I stop and lie back down on the lounger, waiting a moment before I ask, “How’s your dad?”
He sighs. “He’s all right. Same old bastard.”
“I’m so sorry.”
