All this … and married to Hartley’s mother. Jackson’s mother.
“Well, if it isn’t James fucking McDonald. The beloved stepfather who abuses little boys. Forces them to stand on street corners to earn drug money. Abuses weak women in front of their young sons.” I looked at his feet. “Nice boots, motherfucker.”
My urge to break every goddamn bone in this man’s body was overwhelming. I’d detested the sick fuck my entire life.
I didn’t kill him that day.
He wasn’t dead.
The rotten bastard didn’t die.
Sounds of his whimpering voice and head cracking against the table had haunted me for years. Years. And more goddamn years. I’d walked away a child that day from the deplorable run-down rent house with every cent he had left that I’d earned, leaving my own mother behind and forcing myself to become an instant man. Not giving a fuck if he was dead.
Only living for the moment.
Dealing with the guilt and shame every day since.
Every godforsaken day since.
“I’m just as surprised as you are, boy.” The scum-sucking maggot was still extending a hand out to me.
Her father.
The fucker had the goddamn audacity to think I’d shake his miserable hand.
Like I’d disregard who he was.
Shit like him—he was still alive.
Fury squeezed my chest, my temper clouding my judgment. I hadn’t let my state of mind get the best of me this much in years, but like a blazing fire, it was spreading.
Spreading.
Unfurling.
Fighting every inch of my composure to reach for his neck, I took a long deep breath as the pain streaming my head intensified.
Breathe. Just fucking breathe.
I needed a goddamn minute. A little time to lay out the absolute clusterfuck of shit that was taking place as he stood, still grinning like an idiot, just like he used to. It made me mad as fuck.
You obnoxious little pussy. Get back out there. You can piss later. Earn your fucking living.
“You are the fucking savage in my remembrance,” I hissed.
Before I could do anything else, I had him by the shoulders, backing him against the expensive ride I knew damn well he hadn’t contributed a fucking cent to. The need to go for his jugular was substantial.
“Have anything you want to say to me now? Maybe demand I make a little more money? Earn my way? What do you see when you look at me now, you worthless piece of scum? What do you see now, James? Still that same no-good pussy?”
I released him. He coughed, trying to catch the breath he’d been forced to hold. He pulled back, running a hand over his chest.
“You fool. Don’t you know I was only trying to make a man out of you, Justin? Does my daughter know what you do to earn your high and mighty lifestyle? Does she know you fuck for a living?”
“A man? A motherfucking man? By abusing women? Beating kids? Making them beg for money? Where is the fucking honor in that, James? Where. Is. The. Fucking. Honor?”
I clenched my teeth, fighting every thought in my head to end his pathetic life right here. Right now. Not giving one ounce of fuck if I ended up in a jail cell.
Her father. The man I thought I’d killed already. The man I’ve hated my entire life.
“You’ll never be anything more than what you are right now.” I spit out the words he’d said to me a thousand times, a small stream of spittle flying from my mouth as my gaze cut back to the Lexus I suddenly realized I’d probably paid for.
“That car you’re driving. Those shiny new teeth and fancy boots. Did my lifestyle pay for those, too, you fucking slack?”
Was this what my mother wanted to talk to me about when she’d last called?
Was she still funding him?
With my goddamn money?
A small waiting line had gathered on the front steps of IHOP. Some were gawking, while others filmed our altercation with their godforsaken smart phones. I felt like I’d been rammed in the chest with a load of heavy brick.
“If I find out you’ve been taking money from my mother, your fucking lifestyle will soon be on a whole different level. Now get the fuck out of my face. And watch your back, James.”
I reached for my phone in my back pocket and began shooting off a quick text to Hartley when I saw her walking toward me, her eyes filled with dread and doubt, thoughts of making good on my threat to James running through my head like a skipping record. All these years … the sonofabitch was still alive. Living high on the hog like he didn’t have a worry in the world.
“Baby,” I whispered, her body cold and shaking, as she fell against my chest, totally disregarding James.
“Get me out of here, Justin. I knew better.” Her eyes were red-rimmed as I fought sinking my fist through the sorry fuck’s jaw.
“Hartley, get rid of the attitude and let’s have breakfast. Your mother really wants to see you.”
“No,” she whispered softly against my chest, her grip around my midsection like a vice.
“The lady said no,” I hissed.
A tense dead-air lasted for what seemed like minutes, though it was probably only seconds as I struggled with my next move. Thoughts of a certain business card tucked away in my desk rushed into my mind.
I needed the hell out of here. Hartley needed the hell out of here. I needed to try and process this whole emotional rollercoaster involving a man I’d grown up hating. One I thought I’d left dead, my mother failing to tell me any different in the few times we’d spoken over the years. Letting me carry the guilt in thinking I’d left her to clean up the mess. Only asking for money, she’d never bothered telling me he was still alive. Emotion laced in her voice the times we’d talked, it was all becoming clear. He’d been threatening her all this time. Demanding money and no telling what else.
The fucking bastard would pay.
“Let’s go then.”
Chapter Eighteen
Justin
The fight never ends.
Mad?
Was this anger?
Fuck no, it wasn’t anger. This was a pure, unquestionable, violently uncontrollable mania.
I didn’t know what had me the maddest. The fact that I’d been eaten up with guilt, thinking I’d killed a man.
Or the simple fact that I hadn’t.
All these years. All. These. Motherfucking. Years.
His perfectly shiny white teeth and sinister look took me back to the one place I didn’t want to be.
Topeka, Kansas.
Hell.
Purgatory.
James McDonald. Hartley’s biological father.
The woman I loved was the offspring of the man I’d hated my entire life.
What was this feeling of anger toward her? No reason for resentment, she was an innocent bystander in a fucked-up situation. Even so, a small side of me felt the strong urge to punish her. Make her pay for something she had no control over. My Dom side was creeping up, reeling me in deep. Strapping her to the x-cross and giving her a taste of what I’d given up years before… It all made my mouth water.
Come on boy. Touch me. You know you want to.
Fuck this. I couldn’t do it.
I wouldn’t return to the cold-hearted bastard I once was. Hartley was tired. She needed rest. And I needed time to myself. An hour after I’d dropped her off at her place, my hands were heavy against the steering wheel as I pulled into the Lakeview Marina, easing my car into a slip on the end. I had to get away for a while. My own house, the club, everything—I didn’t want to see any of it. It all reminded me of Hartley. Her smell was everywhere. On my skin, my clothes, my home. I still tasted her mouth. After the divulgence of who I was … who she was, I had no idea where our future was headed.
Or if it even existed.
My phone dinged with a text.
My house. 2:00. Me. Mason. You. Basketball. Beer. Brutal ass kicking.
I texted back.
10-4.
An escape. Fresh air and speed. I needed both.
The rush.
The acceleration.
Fucking. Speed.
The weather was perfect. Bright. Sunny. Not a trace of wind. The emerald-green water was smooth, like a piece of shiny slick glass.
My Sunsation 32 Dominater sliced through the calm water, ripping long v-waves that flattened out perfectly as I increased my speed.
Nobody to worry about but myself out here.
Not a soul to hurt or be hurt by.
Nobody to answer to.
Adrenaline bolted through my chest, bringing on a rush that only high-octane fuel brought on. I tugged at my hair, screaming out the bottled-up rage from the bottom of my chest that had me desperately hungering to choke the life from someone. Him.
Seething with rage.
Refusing to let the sick fuck win.
Vowing that I wouldn’t be that man again.
Driving fast. 65 … 70 … 85…
“Fuccckkkk.”
Within seconds, I was wiping away hot angry tears from my face. Unfinished, but forbidding myself to let this rodent suck me back into hell. Nobody would ever have that power over me again. No. Fucking. Body. Despite what he’d done, nobody controlled me. They hadn’t in over fifteen years. And I wouldn’t go back to that angry time. I was done with that chapter of my life. It had molded me into the man I was today.
He wouldn’t take that from me.
My boat back in the slip, I eased out of the marina and onto the highway toward Tyler’s house, hoping he had plenty of cold beer on ice. A breeze had picked up. With my windows down, the hot wind slapped against my face as Jason Aldean filled the speakers.
Mason’s orange Jeep was parked in the circular driveway. I pulled in behind him.
“Justin.” The door opened to a smiling Mason.
“Hey, Mason. Good to see you.” Well fuck, that was a sight for sore eyes. Seeing him healed and speaking again after nothing but years of silence.
“Holy fuck. What’s that smell?” I asked.
Mason smiled, his eyebrows lifting. “Alex is baking peach cobbler. It’s so fucking good,” he whispered.
Tyler walked in carrying three dark Heinekens, handing one to me and another to Mason.
“A little surprised you came. Hate to subject you to another ass-whipping, knowing how hard that is on a man like yourself. Here. Come say hi to Alexa.”
All I could think about was Hartley. What was she doing?
What was she thinking?
Was she still upset?
“Justin. Hi.” Dressed in a knee-length sundress and flat sandals, Alex stood high on her toes, reaching to kiss me on the cheek.
“I’m so glad you came.”
“Nice to see you, too, Alex. Or hell! Should I call you Alexa now?” I winked. She smiled back, dropping her arm around Tyler’s waist and looking up at him with a seductive stare.
“Only one man gets away with calling me that. I gave up trying to convince him to use my real name.” She giggled, looking into Tyler’s face. Tyler Yates was a possessive motherfucker. Far from an easily convinced man, this lady had jerked his chain hard, changing him in ways I still didn’t believe. I admired the diversity, though.
My emotions were on edge. Everything reminded me of Hartley, even though I didn’t know where we stood, or if we even stood at all anymore.
How could we now?
“Well, what do we have here?” The ring on her tiny hand was monumental.
“Looks like somebody is due congratulations. Fuck, Tyler, did you buy the biggest rock in the city?” I lifted her tiny hand up.
“That’s a beautiful ring, Alex. When’s the big day?”
“We’re not sure yet. We want something small and intimate. Maybe even outside. We’re shooting for May.” Tyler leaned over, kissing the top of her head.
“If I had it my way, we’d fly to Vegas this weekend. Get married by Elvis.” Alex elbowed him in the side.
“Not a chance, babe. No Elvis weddings. Hey, you’re staying for dinner, aren’t you? Dessert’s in the oven and steaks are in the refrigerator.” I’d only met Alex a short time ago, but she seemed like family. Easy as hell to get to know and thankfully held no grudges for the deplorable way I’d treated Maci, her best friend. I knew she and Hartley would hit it off.
Fuck, did it even matter now?
Was there even an us anymore?
“I’ve gotta get to the club before too long, but I won’t pass up that cobbler Mason told me about. It smells amazing.”
“Come on. Let’s get this massacre on the road,” Tyler said. “You coming out to watch the take down, angel?” Alex smiled up at him.
“No. I think I’ll stay inside the cool house. I need to start on the salad anyway. Don’t kill each other. I prefer this hunk in one piece.” She kissed Tyler’s cheek.
After two games, we sat down on the patio and opened up another beer. The spicy dark brew slid down easy, wetting my palate with icy cold perfection.
“Jesus. We’re gonna knock poor Alex out with all the sweat between the three of us.” I brushed a hand across my drenched forehead.
“How are things between you and Hartley?”
Fuck.
Tyler was the best friend I’d ever had, but still, he didn’t know everything. Suddenly, I was spilling my guts to him and Mason. First time I’d ever done something like that. Fucking amazing the unusual shit I’d done since she returned to my life.
“Christ, Justin. I had no idea. He’s her father, but not Jackson’s?” I nodded.
“You love her?” Mason asked.
“Jesus.” My voice cracked. “Everything is so fucking complicated, but yes. I love her.” I took another long pull of the cold dark Heineken.
“Want a little doctorly advice, Justin?” Tyler’s eyes narrowed.
“Do I have a choice, Doc?”
“I’ve told you before. This shit creeps up on you with no warning whatsoever. Then out of nowhere, it bites you on the ass, leaving deep permanent scars.”
“Hey! Who bit you on the ass?” Alex walked out the back door, handing the dog some kind of treat. “I’m the only one who has access to your fine ass.” She sat down across Tyler’s legs and slung an arm around his neck.
“Absolutely. Only you get this ass, angel.”
“Jesus Christ.” Mason uttered.
After the short visit with Tyler and Mason, I drove back home and opened another Heineken. My phone dinged. Well, fuck me. It was her. My sweet thing.
Chapter Nineteen
Hartley
I could honestly put it in the record books that this had been the worst day of my life.
I couldn’t think straight. Everything started off great. Justin told me he loved me. How could I have known what started off being a beautiful day would evolve into a huge storm of shit? Everybody was keeping things from me, like always. I needed answers. Jackson was the only damn person that would actually give me an honest answer. I wasn’t twelve anymore. I was sick of everybody treating me like I was. Maybe I’d call my big brother … when I was physically able to have a conversation without falling apart.
James was my biological father in name only. He was once married to Justin’s mom! There was way more than I knew to that story. But like always, nobody would tell me. Even with her guilt-ridden face, I’d tried getting real answers from my mother when it was just the two of us in IHOP, but she brushed it all to the side like it wasn’t something big. Like she’d always done where he was concerned … defend and deny.
I swatted at my eyes for the umpteenth time.
Where are you? I need to see you.
It was 4:00. He hadn’t tried reaching me all day.
Everything was coming together piece by ugly piece, like a huge unbelievable nightmare. My biological father was the monster that had abused the man I loved. Although I didn’t know the whole story, between my brother, Justin, and my mom, I’d learned enough to put two and two together.
&n
bsp; My heart ached. Images of a little blue-eyed boy that I’d loved even then, being mistreated, sent tears to my eyes. Chances were, I’d probably seen him at school only hours after being abused.
I’m so sorry, baby. Please don’t hate me.
He wouldn’t even respond to my text. I sent a second. I’d send a third if I had to.
I’m heading to Venture. Please tell me you’re okay. I love you.
The Exxon station was full as I pumped twenty dollars of unleaded into my tank. A text streamed across my phone when I stepped back inside.
I’m home.
I drove in silence. One of the only times I could remember not listening to music in my car, the huge stress reliever couldn’t possibly ease the uncontrollable shaking of my body.
Nothing could calm me right now.
Besides him.
My eyes sealed shut as I stepped through the door of Justin’s building. I prayed he didn’t hate me. My palms sweaty, I pushed the number ten button in the elevator after walking straight past the unfriendly concierge that clearly despised me, not giving a second thought to wasting my time returning her hateful glare. A cold chill covering me, I was doing my best at looking strong, keeping my head high and hoping like Christ I had the strength to face him.
My thoughts came to a halt when the elevator slowly slid open to Justin standing in the doorway. Dressed in only dark black Nike shorts, he was bare from the waist up, making it impossible to take my eyes off him. Even with bloodshot eyes and a red face, he was still breathtakingly handsome.
He didn’t speak, only dropping his hands deep inside the pockets to his shorts. I shot off a second silent prayer that he wouldn’t loathe me for who I was.
“Are you okay? Why is your face so red, baby?” I walked closer, dying to touch him. I cupped his cheeks, pulling his face against mine.
His lips narrowed, his mood sour. “I’m fine,” he lied, taking a step back. My hands fell from his face.
Crimson Sunsets Page 12
