Page 55 of Duke
I give him a sad smile, because I don’t disagree. They’ve been fucking with my head for weeks now. “No matter whether they were under orders from the OG Bastards or not, I don’t feel very fucking sorry for anything that’s coming their way.”I just don’t.“Where are they?”
Mason lets out a snort with a roll of his eyes, rubbing his hand over my back again. “Don’t worry about them. We tied them up in the attic. And I think the plan is to leave them there for a bit. Make them sweat while we figure out what we want to do. Confiscated their phones, too. They can scream all fucking night for all I care. No one will hear them.”
Pushing away from the wall, Duke kneels next to the tub. “Look at me, Lennon.” I blink at the seriousness of his tone, but obey, lifting my chin from my knees. He guides my face to his with a few careful fingers at my jaw, and my eyes lock with his. “They thought explaining that they were working for our fathers would earn them some sort of goodwill. That we’d somehow be on their side. Their mistake was thinking that our fathers are more important to us or that our allegiance to them is greater than it is to you, Lennon.”
“And they’d be fuckin’ wrong,” Bear rasps, reaching out to touch my leg.
Their words, their touch, their love. These men are all I need. My eyes fill with emotion that I refuse to let loose no matter how overwhelmed I am. Because I have to be strong to combat the creeping sense of dread that tickles at the base of my spine. Shoving the nervous energy down, I focus on Bear, my voice nothing more than a whisper. “Please tell me the doctor gave you good news today.”
Bear takes a deep breath and nods. “He did. I’m going to be okay he thinks, but he says to let the shoulder rest, then he wants to see me again. He prescribed me a medication that is helping some with pain management.” His eyes flick to each of us in turn. “But don’t worry, it’s not something I’m going to get hooked on.” He lets out a sigh that makes me want to climb out of the tub and into his arms to comfort him. This isn’t an easy thing he’s doing. He grips the back of his neck with one hand, tugging on it as he continues. “Coach Cambridge and Doc Middendorf already made the decision that I need time to recover from the hellacious stomach bug I told them I had. They want me back at practice this coming week, but I will probably have to suck it up and tell them I’ve got an injury when I return.”
Mason gestures to Bear’s arm. “There’s no sense in pushing it and no way to rest it if they send you into the weight room or back onto the field.”
“Yeah, I know. So as much as I fuckin’ hate it, I have to force myself to take some more time off. My old man’s going to shit himself when I miss more than one game, but if I want to be playing at top performance, I need to give the shoulder time to rest.”
The dejected look on his face is such a shame, but I’m glad he’s prioritizing his health and well-being for once… except for one notable exception. “I’m proud of you for admitting you need to do that. But”—I grit my teeth, hardly wanting to bring it up—“what about fight night?”
Bear runs his hands down his face. “Great fucking question.”
A worried look crosses Mason’s face, Duke doesn’t seem as bothered. He works his jaw to the side. “Leave it to me. I might have the perfect solution.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
MASON
This Arikand Quincy situation is fucking annoying, and I drew the short stick in terms of who’d be staying behind to play babysitter to these assholes. I fed them peanut butter sandwiches and water for lunch. I suppose we can’t let these conniving, spying little bitches die from dehydration or starvation. But we’ve seriously gotta figure out what to do with them, because the piss break that I was in charge of earlier was a real pain in my ass. And speaking of ass, I’m not cleaning them up if they shit their pants.
The doorbell rings as I hit the bottom step on my way down the stairs. I frown. Most everyone else is out of the house. No one has even asked about either one of our prisoners. It’s proof that Quincy and Arik haven’t ingratiated themselves with this brotherhood. Could it be the cops again? They said they might be back, but I can’t imagine what would bring them to our doorstep less than a day later.
Duke, Bear, and Lennon had gone to class earlier, trying to maintain an air of normalcy despite the flyer incident yesterday and the fact that we have the culprits locked up in the attic. Quite a few brothers should be home soon, as many are done with classes by noon—but there’s no reason why they would be ringing the doorbell. The door is almost always unlocked during the day, even if the alarm is set.
I punch in the alarm system code, then throw the door wide open. I don’t know what I’m expecting. The UPS guy with another shipment of Twizzlers for Brendan? Maria looking to make up with Warren, since they’re on the outs again? Who knows. But I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting the man standing before me.
Murdock Mikaelson. The root of all my fucking nightmares.My father.
I’ve also heard people call him Madman Murdock. Or Murdock the Murderer. Or Murdering Murdock. My stomach goes sour as I stare at all six-foot-three of big, thick muscles. I know in prison inmates are given the opportunity to maintain their health, and when I was younger, I’d have visions of my father doing push-ups in his cell, preparing for the day he’d be released so… he could come after me? I dunno. I used to have weird thoughts like that. I guess I’ve gotten too complacent, thinking he’d never be set free. Because this reality is fucking terrifying.
He gives me a grim smile. “Hello, Mason. It’s good to see you after all these years.”
I shudder. I most definitely do not feel the same way. Hunter is built much the same as our father, has always been a stockier version of me. Only, studying my father now… Hunter’s far less intimidating. It’s a bad sign because on a good day I can hardly deal with Hunter with the shit he says. That jerk has told me over and over that our father is a good man who took the fall for my actions, and I should be grateful to him. Lies. It was all lies.
I don’t know whether having Lennon around has forced me to directly confront things, but fuck. I refuse to be held accountable for something that my logical, waking mind no longer believes I was at fault for. Despite all that, my brain doesn’t deal well with having this man in front of me, it twists and goes dark. Flashes of him with my mother on the balcony bombard my head. The shouting. The shoving. The crying. It slams into me full force, making me sweat. I still don’t know what they were arguing about that day. Eight-year-old me didn’t get it. I only knew my mother was in trouble. My father had been so fucking angry, I could feel it deep in my soul that if I didn’t do something, he was going to hurt her. He’d backed her up to the railing of the balcony. Pushed my mother as I came running toward them. Fucking disgusting, slimy bastard. He pinned what he did on a child. I didn’t fucking do it.Mom…My heart clenches hard as memories stampede through my head. He killed her. I hate him.
Without a clue how long I’ve been stuck in my head, I finally refocus on my father. Drawing myself up, I blink a few times, meeting his steely, sharp gaze. His eyes travel over me, and he gives me a look of such disdain, I wonder why he’s even here. “Funny, I can’t say the same,Dad,”I spit out, my voice full of snark. “What’s it been, thirteen years since you killed my mother?”
My father’s smile is lethal, but he doesn’t appear surprised by my question. “You know, considering I did fucking time for somethingyou did,I would have thought you’d have a little more goddamn respect for me.” I’m not expecting it when he throws out a hand and pushes me backward, allowing himself entrance.
I catch myself as I stumble, a deep scowl forming on my face. My fists clench. “You know that’s not the truth. And more importantly,Iknow that’s not the truth, no matter what lies you try to spew. I don’t care if you and Hunter want to tell everyone otherwise. I was eight. Just because I was there when it happened means nothing.”
“Tell yourself what you have to, if it makes you feel better.” He taps his finger to his temple. “I’m not the one who has psychotic breaks with reality.”
Cold nerves wash over me. Drawing in a steadying breath, I shake my head. I should have known he’d show up. I’ve been worried about his release, but… I never expected him to simply show up on my fucking doorstep. Fucking walk back into my life, easy as he pleases. “Of course I have issues. I witnessed you kill my mother. Any child would be scarred by that. I’m glad I’m nothing like you, nor do I want anything to do with you. And you aren’t welcome here, old man.”
“Doesn’t matter what you think. Founding member, remember? I have keys to the place. I was here when it was built.” He lowers his voice, gritting out, “And I know all its goddamn secrets, so maybe you should show me a little respect. Because if I went down for something you did, I can and will allow the same to happen to you.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” I scowl hard, my eyes narrowing.
His eyes have an unnatural, sick gleam to them as he pins them on me and huffs out a laugh. “Consideringyourfuckin’ daddy was the lawyer who got me put away in the first place, maybe you should ask him. Pretty fucking huge conflict of interest he had there.”
