Page 49 of Wreckin' Amethyst

“Why would you suggest that?” I ask tentatively. Again, not denying it, but to hear those words so raw and spoken allowed, I dare to think thoughts I’ve previously pushed away.

“Look, I’ve been patient, but you guys are the most stubborn men I know. Sebby is gay. Completely, irrevocably, beautifully gay and he only has eyes for you. Unless you’ve already forgotten, I’ve seen how you are together. Put him out of his misery and tell him he’s the only man you want. It just so happens, there’s also a wo-man currently holding his attention.” I snort at the insinuation Amethyst is a fleeting distraction in my life. Rolling her stunning, crystal blue eyes, I smile. She’s known of mine and Sebby’s relationship all along, and is still standing here holding my hand.

“How are you so amazing?”

“Practice,” Ami shrugs. I pull her into my arms, drowning in her kiss. Now she’s not pushing me away, I can’t stop. I refuse to even try. I want her branded on my lips and snuggly pressed against my chest at all times. Hang on, if she’s aware Sebby is gay, then that means…

“So, you and Sebby never-”

“Nah-uh.”

“And when you screamed his name at the club, you were just-”

“Uh huh.” Ami’s smile is purely evil. She’s been teasing me all along.

“Such a little minx.” Smacking her ass, I pull her along before I give into the hardening of my cock again. I’d take her right now against the wall if we didn’t have other reasons for nearing the electronic gate up ahead.

Bracing myself, I round the telecom system and jam my finger against the button. Barely a minute passes, my face staring into the camera, before the gate slides open and permits our entry. The flutters of happiness Amethyst ignites within, dissolves and fizzles out as the cold shadow of the mansion chills my skin. When I think about the amount of people who’d swap places with me in a heartbeat, only to realize oppression is writhe wherever you go. Those with money, rule all. Those with power, abuse it.

The front door is swung open by Leonard, a butler older than the antique handles, his arm out-stretched for our jackets before noticing we have none. My father is two steps behind, tsking at the sight of my bare chest. His scowl hitches even further at Ami and my hackles rise.

“We need to talk,” I state coldly. Lowering his hazel gaze to our interlocked fingers, my father nods.

“It seems we do. I just got off the phone with Carter. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you today.” Falling into stride, I keep my eyes fixed on the back of his head. I see this lobby enough in my nightmares to relive it in real life. From the hanging art installation above a grand staircase to the antique grandfather clock which chimes hourly, and my stepmother’s minor feminine touches presented in potted plants and a Persian rug. She desperately wanted to redecorate, but refuses to admit she’s just as much of a shiny fixture as the ornate molding along the walls, ceilings and doorways. Under my father’s roof and rule, we don’t get to have preferences.

I shift uncomfortably, sensing the leash tightening around my throat. The last time I was here, I was being dragged out by cops and swiftly committed to rehab. Between the trials and a prolonged depressive low, I realized how expendable I was. How easily silenced and cast aside I could be. It’s taken too long to pull myself back from the verge of worthlessness, to become the man I’m comfortable seeing in the mirror. I don’t need any more memories to fuel a setback.

Walking directly to his office, a chamber consisting of two floors, bay windows in a semi-circle peering over the acres of land beyond, and expensive artwork, my father tries to close the door in Ami’s face.

“The kitchen is down the hall. Try not to break anything.”

“Not a chance,” I force my foot against the door, dragging Ami inside. “Amethyst is my girlfriend, and you will treat her with respect as such." Her grip on me tightens, wide eyes peering up at my set jaw.

“Myles, you don’t have girlfriends. You have brief obsessions, and this too will pass. I will not have her privy to our conversation.” Entering into his stare-off, I pull Ami closer against my body, wrapping a protective arm around her back.

“The conversation we need to have involves her, or has Carter not informed you we were shot at in New Orleans?”

“What were you doing in New Orleans?” his graying brows rise. I press my lips together, refusing to give another inch until he backs down. My father sighs, sitting before a striking stone fireplace without pushing the issue further. The wood logs lay untouched, only for show. Dragging nearby armchairs away, I position them so Ami and I can see his face. There’s no getting away from the questions I’m about to ask. Although, opening my mouth, it’s not me who asks them.

“Where did you get your signet ring?” Amethyst jerks her chin towards my father’s crossed hands. He immediately retreats them from sight, straightening his back.

“I know who you are,” he replies, eyes narrowing. The air shifts, discomfort prickling my skin. “Leave my son out of your suicide mission.”

“Trust me, I tried. He’s like a leech,” Ami twists her lips until I give her a narrowed look. Raising one brow, she shrugs. “A very attractive leech.”

Coming to an impasse where no one wants to volunteer information first, I push to my feet, dragging a hand through my hair. If I know one way to soften my father’s cruel exterior, it’s to prepare him a cigar. I’ve seen my stepmother do it a hundred times, then witnessed Carter adopt the same trick on the many meetings they’ve had at the manor. Ones I haven’t been invited to, as they talk business, pleasure, and discuss my future as if I’m still a reckless teen.

I gave up long ago caring for my father’s opinions. Around the same time I gave into the media’s portrayal of me, deciding I would be the deviant they created. I frequented clubs, bars, and parties. Treated sex like a remedy, a way to rid myself of my thoughts. But after every single time, the weight of guilt doubled and soon enough, I caved. Withdrawing from society completely. Only interested in the Elites now and then. Only vaguely aware I was still living at all.

Still, my father looks at me with such disappointment, I want to claw out of my own skin to get rid of the disdain. It wouldn’t have made a difference. When all else is said and done, I’m not Carter. I’m not the perfect son.

Clipping the end of the cigar, I light it, puffing a few times for the cherry to blossom fully. Then I abandon the residue left on his desk and present it to him.

“Amethyst and I are trying to find who killed her mother. We followed a lead and discovered an envelope with a shield and dragon wax seal. I know it wasn’t yours, since you have a Pegasus, but the pattern was too much of a coincidence to ignore.” Dropping back into the armchair, I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees.

“Did you read what was inside?”

“No, I burned it. I feared what the implication of finding it would mean, given our crest is so similar. I know how important reputation is to you,” I attempt to sound sincere. To carefully pick my words in a way my father would prefer.

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