Page 100 of Double or Nothing

Waking up to Kat was a double whammy, not only my post-concert bliss but the utter satisfaction in waking up with the woman of my dreams in my arms. I slide my hand between her bare thighs to both rouse and arouse her. Unfortunately, my plan backfires. One look at the clock and she bolts from bed, late for a meeting, leaving me all alone to my devices.

The concert last night at House of Cards was phenomenal. I had forgotten how awesome it is to perform in a small venue. Not that the place is that small. It still brought in a few thousand people. Still, there was an intimacy you don’t find when you play stadiums. Last night, I could see faces, see their smiles and their mouths moving with the words I sang.

It was amazing.

Any reservations I may have had about the residency were laid to rest. Not that I had any intention of not signing that contract. Kat is enough to make it worthwhile, though a part of me had wondered if it would be enough, if I would find the satisfaction I did when I was touring. Did I ever! I hadn’t felt like that in years.

Fucking perfection.

That’s what my life is right now.

A hard knock on the door breaks my blissful moment.

I make my way to the door and pull it open without looking to see who it is. Stupid move on my part.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

The sight of my father takes me by surprise. I don’t know how he found me, let alone why he would want to. We said all we needed to say back at the trailer park when I first arrived. He hates me. I hate him. End of story.

At least, that’s what I had hoped for.

Yet here he is in the flesh, looking drunker and dirtier than when I saw him last.

“Is that any way to greet your old man?”

“If by ‘old man,’ you mean drunk, useless, good-for-nothing prick, then yeah. Sounds about right to me. Now, answer the fucking question.”

He smiles at me through grime-filled teeth and pushes past me into the suite.

“Fancy.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what hard work gets you.”

“Hard work?” he scoffs. “You don’t know a damn thing about hard work.”

“And you do?” I chide.

I know better than to argue with the man, but I can’t seem to control it. He brings out the worst in me, but I allow him to say what he wants until I can figure out what the fuck he’s doing here. Even better, how the hell to get rid of him.

“Heard your planning on staying in town.”

I’m sure news of the residency was leaked the moment the pen hit the paper. It doesn’t surprise me, and I don’t really care, except it brought the man standing before me to my door. “I am.”

I’m looking at the sole reason I had any hesitation in signing. I left Vegas because of the record deal but also because I never wanted to lay eyes on my father again. Coming back here means I won’t have that luxury. Nothing will stop him from torturing me. It’s what he lives for, which may very well be why he suddenly looks alive, as opposed to when I saw him the other day.

“Good.”

“Good?” Definitely not the reaction I was expecting. It makes me all the more curious what he’s doing here.

“You heard me.”

“I did. I just don’t believe you. Why the fuck would you want me back here? You want money?”

“Well, you do kind of owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” I scoff.

“I raised you and—”

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