Malicious

by Alex Grayson

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shoots up in bed.

  “Hey.” I touch his back, pulling his gaze to me. “Just answer it.”

  “I don’t want to answer it.”

  “You know he’s going to keep calling if you don’t,” I point out. “Answer it. I have to get ready to go, anyway. I have to be at work in less than an hour.” He gives me a disappointed look as I move to leave the bed. “Answer it,” I tell him again as I slide off the edge of the mattress and stand. My entire body protests the movement.

  This has been one of the best days of my life, and for no other reason than because of who I spent it with. I never knew an afternoon in bed could be so enjoyable. And not just because of the physical aspect, but because of the emotional as well.

  Little by little, I feel like I’m breaking down the walls of Oliver Conley, and the more he lets me in, the harder I fall.

  Because as much as I want to deny it, as badly as I want to bury it and pretend like it isn’t real, the truth of the matter is, I’m falling in love with him.

  No, I am in love with him. I think I’ve known it for a while, but I’m just getting around to admitting it to myself. The man I swore I’d hate until my dying breath has seemingly overnight, become someone I don’t ever want to live without. And this terrifies me as much as it excites me.

  “Oliver.” I point to the device still ringing in his hand.

  “Fuck,” he grumbles again, swiping his finger across the screen. “What?” he barks into the phone.

  I shake my head at him, swooping down to pick my clothes up off the floor.

  “This couldn’t wait until later?” he grinds out, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He pauses, presumably listening to whatever his father is saying.

  I feel his eyes on me as I dress, and for this reason, I do it slow and purposeful. I don’t miss the smile that toys on his lips as he watches my slow and seductive movements.

  “What?” he questions, his attention so focused on me that he seems to have completely blanked on whatever his father is talking about. “I’m busy.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve got class.” Another pause. “Why is it when I need you to make time for me, it never fucking happens, but when the roles are reversed you expect me to come running?”

  “I gotta go.” I step up next to Oliver and drop a kiss to his temple.

  He covers the bottom of the phone so his dad can’t hear him. “Stay.”

  “I can’t,” I mouth. “Call me later?” I back toward the door, sliding on my shoes before picking my bag up off the floor.

  I’m seconds away from tugging the door open when Oliver pushes to his feet and struts toward me in all his naked gloriousness.

  “I’m going to have to call you back,” he says into the phone before he tosses it onto the bed behind him. “Did you really think I was going to let you slip out like that?” He grins, backing me into the door.

  “I have to go to work,” I tell him again, my skin heating with the way he stares down at me.

  “And I have every intention of letting you go, but first.” He presses against me before tipping my chin up.

  In one swift move, his mouth closes down over mine. He kisses me so intensely that I swear I feel it radiate through my entire body. I’ve never had someone make me feel so much so deeply with nothing more than a kiss. But that’s what Oliver does. He devours me. He consumes me. Hell, at this point, he owns me.

  And when he pulls back and hits me with a satisfied grin, I think it’s pretty safe to say that he knows it too.

  25

  OLIVER

  Tossing back a handful of Red Hots into my mouth, I turn down the tree-lined street leading to my father’s house. I have the radio cranked up so loud, an old man walking his dog eyes my car like it’s the most God-awful thing he’s ever seen. I casually flip him the bird as I pass by.

  I park on the curb in front of the house and get out, flipping up the collar of my jacket when a gust of cold wind blows in my face. I am so fucking ready for summer. I hate being cold.

  When I walk inside, I’m greeted by blessed heat, and the sound of classical music. Slipping my jacket off, I drop it on a bench by the staircase and go search for my father. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to, especially since Savannah’s off work today, but dear old Dad said it was urgent I come see him this weekend. Savannah offered to come with me, but I want her nowhere near my father if I can help it.

  I head toward his office, knowing ninety percent of the time when he’s at home, that’s where he is. I’m surprised when I push open the door and find not my father sitting at his desk, but Evelyn.

  “Oh! Hi, Oliver,” Evelyn chirps, looking up from the computer. “I assume you’re looking for your father?”

  I jerk my chin up. “Apparently, it was dire I come see him at the first opportunity.”

  “Yes.” She smiles, but when it doesn’t reach her eyes, I become suspicious. “What he has to speak with you about is very important.” She gets up from the chair and walks around to the front of the desk, leaning against the mahogany wood. “He just stepped into the kitchen for a moment. We were going over the finances for the month.”

  I drop down into a chair and prop my feet up on the edge of the desk, getting comfortable with my arms crossed over my chest.

  “You talk to Rylee lately?” I ask, making small talk. I hate small talk, but it’s better than sitting here with Evelyn in a weird silence.

  “Earlier today.” She pauses. “Why? Is there something I should be worried about?”

  “Nope. Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Oh.” She laces her fingers together in front of her. “How has school been?”

  “Boring mostly.” I shrug. “But fine.”

  “How have you been?”

  “Good,” I grunt. Tilting my head, I regard the woman in front of me. “Why are you so nice to me?” I ask, having always wondered.

  From the way her eyes widen and the jerk of her head, I’d say I surprised her with my question.

  “You’re my husband’s son. Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

  “Because, up until recently, I wasn’t very cordial toward you. And I damn sure wasn’t with Rylee.”

  Her lips pinch together in a frown. “Oliver, I never thought for one moment your father marrying me would be easy on you. You’re a grown man, but even men have feelings. I refuse to talk negatively about Maria, but we all know she hated me, even before your father and I got together. Paul told me you know why he and your mother divorced, and it had nothing to do with me. He also told me that Maria made you believe otherwise. I didn’t blame you for hating me. You thought I broke up your family, and you lashed out. And while I don’t know the extent of your treatment of Rylee, I know you weren’t nice to her. I may have wanted to strangle you at times.” She smiles wryly. “I also knew you were hurt and dealing with that pain the only way you knew how. You needed time, and I wanted to give that to you. It all worked out in the end.”

  I understand now why Rylee and Savannah always defended Evelyn. She really is an incredible woman and mother. A damn sight better than my own. Rylee is lucky to have her.

  We’re interrupted when my father appears in the doorway. His eyes flick back and forth between me and Evelyn, assessing the situation. When Evelyn smiles, his shoulders relax.

  “Oliver, it’s good to see you, son.”

  With a grunt, I drop my feet to the floor and sit up straight without returning the sentiment. He walks over and hands Evelyn a plate holding a sandwich at the same time he leans down and drops a quick kiss on her lips.

  “Give us a bit of time to talk?”

  She nods, offering a smile. “Let me know if you need me.”

  “Thank you, darling.”

  Evelyn stops by my chair and grips my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “No matter what you may think, Oliver, don’t ever doubt that your father loves you.”

  With her cryptic words bouncing around
in my head, she leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind her. I look back at my father, lifting a brow. “What the hell was that about?”

  Instead of answering me, he walks around his desk and takes his seat. After rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he props his elbow on the smooth surface. I notice something in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Something I never thought I’d see.

  Fear and uncertainty.

  My father has always been impenetrable. Sure about everything and fearing nothing.

  It’s that look that has me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I’m not going to like what he’s about to tell me.

  “Whatever it is, just spit it out.”

  He sighs, steepling his fingers together and resting his hands against his chin.

  I’m just about to get up and walk the fuck out of the room when he speaks.

  “I know you’ve had reservations on how much I love you. For me, that has never been in question. From the first moment the doctor placed you in my arms, Oliver, I had this huge weight in my chest. Not from gaining a burden, but from my heart being truly full for the first time in my life. It scared the shit out of me how much I loved you, and I had no idea what to do with it. You were this tiny, little baby. So small, but capable of making me feel something so strong.”

  His eyes are intense as he stares at me. He breaks the look long enough to scrub his hands over his face. He looks tired and worn out.

  “You don’t need to say it for me to know I’ve been a shitty father to you. I’ve been hard on you. Not because I don’t care, but because I do. I push you because I know you can do so much with your life. You’re capable of becoming a much better man than I am. I want the best for you, and I’ve strived to give you that. I wanted your life to be easier than mine ever was. But I fear I’ve made it harder on you.” He looks down at his desk for a moment before lifting his eyes again. “Instead of forcing you to do things my way, maybe I should have supported you. Let you do things your way and helped when I could. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should have been.”

  I don’t know if I should enjoy his confession of his crappy behavior toward me over the years or be weirded out by his strange behavior. Either way, it’ll take more than a simple apology to make up for all the shit he’s put me through.

  This whole thing is a little concerning, because I never thought I’d see the day where my father would be mushy.

  I sit forward in my seat and rest my elbows on my knees. “Okay, what’s going on? Are you dying or some shit?”

  He cracks a smile. “No, I’m not dying.”

  “Well, why the heart to heart all of a sudden?”

  When he opens his eyes, they’re filled with torment. “Because of what I’m about to tell you. I need you to know that I love you, Oliver. I will always love you, and there’s not a damn thing that will change that.”

  He pulls in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and breathes out slowly. My sweaty hands grip the arms of the chair as I wait for him to continue.

  “The first time I found out your mother was having an affair with Benjamin was twenty years ago,” he begins, his voice low. “It had been going on for about a year. During that time, it had been months since your mother and I had been intimate. I’d noticed a change in her—she seemed distant and never wanted to do the things we used to do. I blamed it on me being busy at work. It never crossed my mind that she was having an affair, let alone with my brother. That was, until I came home early one evening to surprise her with a weekend getaway. I was the one surprised when I caught her in bed with Benjamin.”

  Hearing of my mother’s affair isn’t news to me, but even so, having my father describe the first time he found out makes me sick, and my anger against my mother renews.

  His eyes leave mine to move across the room, staring off into space. “As I told you weeks ago, I’d confronted her, and she’d promised it would never happen again. Because I was a fool, I believed her. Weeks passed when she finally came to me. I’ll spare you the details, but she wanted sex. I still wasn’t ready to see past her affair and my desire for her was gone, so I denied her. She tried several more times, but I could never give her what she wanted. A couple of months later, I found out she was pregnant.” His eyes move back to me. “I knew right away that the baby couldn’t be mine. We hadn’t had sex in over six months. That was why she came to me wanting sex. To pass the baby off as mine.”

  His words, and the implication behind them, has me freezing in my seat, and all the blood drains from my face. I hear and understand what he’s saying, but I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around it.

  “I could have very easily divorced her. Any love I felt for her was squashed the moment I realized she was pregnant with another man’s child and had tried passing him off as mine.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I grit out, my blood pressure rising, heating me from the inside out.

  “Because of you,” he says simply. “You were an innocent baby. Maria loved money and what it could give her. My brother had none, and I knew he would never be able to give you the life you deserved.” He gets up and walks around to the front of the desk, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Maria was all for staying married because she knew she’d be left with nothing if we divorced.”

  “Because you’d make damn sure she would get nothing if you dissolved the marriage. Meaning she’d have nothing to give her child.”

  I’m angry. No, anger doesn’t cover it. I’m livid. My whole fucking life is a lie, and the people I’m supposed to trust the most are the ones who’ve deceived me.

  “Yes, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. You may not have been my child, but you were still my blood and deserved more than Benjamin could ever give you. After discussing it with your mother, we decided to stay married, and I would raise you as my own. We were going to tell you who your real father was once you were old enough to understand. All of that changed when I held you in my arms for the first time.”

  I laugh sardonically. “How fucking touching.”

  My father ignores my snide remark.

  “You were mine in every way that mattered. I didn’t give a shit that it wasn’t my seed that created you. I claimed you and never once regretted that decision. I’ve loved you as if you were my own. I don’t know if Maria ever told Benjamin that you were his, but he never showed up to dispute my claim.”

  I get up from my chair and begin pacing the room. Feeling my father’s—or rather, my uncle’s—eyes on me, I turn to face him.

  “Why tell me now?” I demand.

  “Because you deserve to know,” he answers quietly, pain etched in his tone. “As much as it pains me to say this, knowing you could leave and never want to see me again, I was wrong to keep this from you. I hate Benjamin and don’t think he would make a good father, but it’s your right to make that decision.”

  I begin pacing again. I have no fucking clue what to do with this information. The only thing I do know, is that I have a fuck load of anger coursing through my system. My father claims to have loved me, despite being sired by another man, but does he really? Would he have treated me differently had I truly been his? Would my childhood have been filled with love and laughter, instead of ridicule and judgement? Would he have held and comforted me when I fell and scraped my knee, instead of telling me to man up and get over it? Would there have been picnics and family game nights, instead of being pawned off on nannies?

  I’ll never know the answers to those questions. I’ll never know if things would have been different. Which angers me even more.

  “I’ll support whatever decision you make, Oliver.”

  I spin around and face him, and not for the first time, but for entirely different reasons, I look at him with disgust.

  “You will because you’ve got no choice. You no longer get a say in what happens in my life. You’ve had that ability way too long, and it stops now.”

  “I know you hate me—”

&nb
sp; “Hate you? Right now, I fucking despise you. My whole life has been a lie. Who I thought was my father, the man who never made me feel loved, isn’t my father. And the man who actually is, is an asshole who steals a married woman from her husband. And my mother,” I laugh humorlessly, “is a manipulative bitch, who would rather stay with her husband because of the money he has. The three of you can go fuck yourselves and stay out of my life. I’m done.”

  He calls my name, but I stalk across the room toward the door. Yanking it open, I leave without a backward glance. Evelyn is following me, calling my name, but I ignore her too. I need to get the hell out of this house filled with lies and deception.

  I don’t know how many hours pass before I’m stumbling up the steps to Savannah’s apartment. Time seemed to cease to exist a while ago. Probably about the time I had my sixth shot of whiskey. The elevator in the lobby was taking too damn long to reach the bottom floor, so I said fuck it and made my way toward the stairs. Not sure if that was a good idea or not, because it seems like I’ve been climbing stairs for hours.

  Squinting my eyes, I throw my hands in the air and yell, “Hallelujah,” when I spot the number four through my blurred vision.

  I guess I lean against the door too hard because it slings open and slams against the wall. “Oops.” I laugh.

  I stagger from left to right as I approach Savannah’s door. Or at least I think it’s Savannah’s door. I tip forward, staring at the number. When it becomes one number like it’s supposed to, instead of two, and I realize that it’s for sure Savannah’s door, I grin.

  Gripping the knob, I try to twist it, but it doesn’t budge. Why the hell isn’t it opening?

  Frowning, I bang on the door.

  When she takes too long to answer, I bang on the door even harder. “Saaavannaaah!” I call, hoping she can hear me.

  I stumble forward and almost smash my face onto the floor when the door suddenly opens. Barely catching myself on the frame, I look up at her and give her a silly grin. “Hey, you.”