Page 93 of Insatiable

He glances over his shoulder, and his eyes light up. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says as he gets to his feet and hugs Mum. They hold each other, as if they hadn’t just spent hours together yesterday. “Did you get a good sleep?”

“I did,” Mum replies, cupping his face and smoothing her thumbs over his skin. “You shaved. Did Luciella’s comment about getting grey hairs in your beard go to your head?”

He smirks. Mum grins and blushes.

Me and Luciella stand behind them in silence.

Dark and threatening eyes land on me, and for the first time in God knows how long, I think he might hit me. Anxiety scratches at me as he moves, studying my face, my eyes, all the tattoos I’ve acquired in the last two years. “Hello, son.”

Lips flattening, I nod. “Dad.”

Usually, when I visit, he’ll pull me in for a hug or offer me some words of encouragement about how good I look, how much my workouts have been doing me justice. But this time, he just stares, trying to read me.

With minimal sleep, a sore side from being shot, a bruised face from Crawley’s punch, a comedown and barely looking after my health the past three days, I’d be surprised if I looked normal right now. I’m probably drawn and looking exhausted. And I definitely forgot to sort my hair. It’s an abomination of curls and waves in all directions, hanging over my forehead.

Luciella breaks the awkward moment by cuddling him, and only then does he perk up and lead us to the pond area.

He holds my mum’s hand, Luciella hooks her arm around his and I walk behind them – silent, unable to even think of a conversation starter while they discuss what they’re planning to do over the next few days.

I shouldn’t be here. There’s no reason for me to be here.

He lost another appeal, but I already knew he’d lose it. He wanted to visit Scotland for a weekend, but because I failed to do as I was told, Bernadette made sure the appeal fell through, and now he’s permanently blocked from ever entering the United Kingdom.

I highly doubt any country would let him in anyway. He’s known worldwide as a psychotic madman.

Luciella slows to walk with me. “What’s wrong with you? Talk to him.”

I shrug. “I don’t know what to say.”

I haven’t visited my dad in nearly two years. The last time we had a huge argument and I overturned one of the picnic tables. He has more grey hairs now, but he’s kept at the gym they have here and eats healthily.

You’d think a man in his forties would at least look forty, but he’s just a slightly older version of me, with the same level of fitness. He’d probably be able to beat the shit out of me without trying.

“Maybe apologise first,” she says, watching him and my mother laugh about something as she rests her head on his shoulder. “You did call him a lunatic, a waste of oxygen and told him he was better off dead for what he did to Mum, before walking out on him.”

As soon as those words fell from my lips, I regretted them. But I was too fucking furious with him to turn around and say sorry, to take them all back. He was hurt by what I said – it was the first time I’d ever seen him cry.

He’d tried to agree with me, that Mum deserved everything that didn’t involve him, but I didn’t wait to hear him explain. I stormed out, blocked the institution’s number and went on with my life.

All because he tried to talk to me about Stacey.You don’t hate her, son. You’re just mad at her.He knew everything about us.There must be a reason she’s acting this way.Every trip.No one can change overnight.Every time I felt happy. He even knew when I asked her to be my girlfriend.You need to hear her out,Kade. If you love her, let her explain.

Tobias Mitchell wasn’t the person to give relationship advice. I mean, come on. He went off his meds and kidnapped my mother to blackmail her into being in a relationship with him.

He’s a million shades of psychotic obsession, but somehow, he was the one who made me see that I was falling in love with Stacey when I was a teenager.

“We should come back in a bit,” my sister whispers to me as our parents talk about their night. “Maybe get a coffee?”

Dad glowers at me, and I feel all the blood drain from my face. “Yeah. Good shout.”

We leave them in peace and head to the cafeteria. I take a seat at one of the tables while Luciella goes to order, returning with a large tea for her and a latte for me.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. About the not being my brother thing.”

I snort. “It’s fine. I haven’t exactly been around.”

“Are you… Are you really okay? You know you can talk to me.”

We were as close as siblings could be once, but when her best friend ruined me, I couldn’t bear to look at either of them. I almost told her about us so many times while drunk-calling home, almost told her that me and Stacey were sneaking around and that I was sorry.

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