Page 63 of Filthy Little Pretties
It’s still hard.
“That’s not the only vote you won’t get. If I have it my way, you’ll lose many.”
His hand drifts over the manila folder in front of him, and I can see his thoughts swirling.What are you up to, Evan?When he looks at me, it’s smug and arrogant, but there’s a hint of something I can’t quite place. Indecision? Fear? No. It’s bullshit. He wants to sell me on the idea he has control.
My scrutiny lowers to the folder and back to him.I’ll play, Evan.
“You’ve been at this for years. Why not accept the inevitable and walk away? It’s not without a handsome compensation.”
I turn away, not waiting for his answer, and walk toward the bookshelves that line the wall.
“All I need is one fuckup, Grey. Then you’re done.”
My shoulders jump as I huff out a laugh, but it’s all for show. My father is actively seeking to ruin my future, and he’s unashamed of it. That’s not something that makes me want to laugh.
“Is that the best you’ve got? That I’ll rue the day? You sound like a cartoon villain.”
I grab a book from the row and open it, flipping through the pages as I hear him stand behind me.
“I’m not the only one not too keen on a child running a legacy. You should keep playing with your little boats and understand your limitations, son.”
I snap the book shut and turn around, irritated with his condescension.
“Don’t call me that. Let’s be real. I’m not your son anymore.”
“Well, maybe you never were. She was quite the whore when I met her.”
Fucking asshole. He knows right where to hit. But I won’t let him use the love I have for my mother against me. I may be young, but I’m not stupid.
“It’s a good thing she liked to make gutter runs, or you’d still be wearing fifty-dollar Sears suits. This isn’t about running any company. It’s about the name. My name. Not yours. I’m the legacy. You married in. It must have been emasculating to take your wife’s name. Then again, you’ve always seemed like a pussy.”
His face grows red with anger. A vein in his neck is beginning to protrude just as his fist lands hard against the desk. “I built this company, you little fuck. I built the McCallister name.”
“You built nothing.”
He shoves the papers as his hands push from the surface, and he charges in my direction. “Nothing? It’s solely because of me that you’ll have a goddamn legacy to eventually squander.”
“I’m sure Grandfather would disagree, even from the grave. By proxy doesn’t equal entitlement. But what do I know, I’m just a kid, right, Evan?”
His hands reach for my neck, but I step back, and they land on the collar of my shirt, gripping it and shoving me back against the stacks of books behind me.
“You think that because your poor pathetic drunk mother accidentally ran into a fucking tree, I should forfeit what’s mine? You talk a big game, but this world is full of horrors you can’t even comprehend. And I’m one of them.”
A smile plays against my lips as he shoves me backward again with more force, knocking books off the shelves. He’s lost control, but this Evan is the most predictable and the least scary to me because I know him well.
He brings his face close to mine, spit gathering on the sides of his mouth from his fury. “Do you think you have what it takes? Do you know how to be a man? Men take what they want. I took what I wanted from your mother. From this company. And I’ll fucking take it from you too.”
My eyes close for a moment, giving me a calm that I need, and reopen locked on Evan’s. I lift my hands, covering mine over his, and begin to pry his fingers from my shirt. His eyes widen as I pull easily against his efforts to keep them in place. He flexes the muscle in his jaw with his strain, but it’s of no use. There was a time when Evan was stronger than me, but that’s long since passed.
Gripping both his hands violently, I take a step forward, causing him to step back from me.
“This is the only warning I’ll give, Evan.” I thrust his hands down back toward his body and stare him down. “The next time you put your hands on me, I’ll be the consequence. I’m not ten, or twelve, or even fourteen. There’s a price for challenging me. Make sure you can pay it.”
Fear replaced by rage is all I can see in his eyes before I smooth my shirt and walk out of his office, leaving the door open.
Donovan
Ernie: Where’d you go after practice today?
