Connor is a user, he’s saying.
My brows knot. Yeah, I know this about Connor.
“He’s my best friend,” Connor says without a beat. “I enjoy his company.”
“Do you?” My dad glares, one that could shrivel a man.
Connor never backs down. “I know what you’re implying, and you should stop.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yes,” Connor says, pokerfaced. Honestly, it’s terrifying—not being able to see his emotions.
“I’m not here to ruin you, Connor, but if you stand in my way, I will. Unlike you, I’m a man with very little to lose.”
“Jonathan,” Rose suddenly says, her eyes fiery. And it’s like my dad just recognizes her sitting right there. “You bring my husband down, you bring me down. We’re staying right here.” She might as well have said: we’re in the inner fucking circle, bitch. No one is pushing us out.
My dad grinds his teeth in distaste.
Connor won this.
Rose is related to Greg Calloway. Greg is Jonathan’s best friend. As a result, he’d never hurt Rose.
His eyes flicker up to Connor. “You aligned yourself fucking well. If I had a glass of bourbon, I’d cheers to you.”
“I’m glad you don’t,” Connor says. I wait for him to add a smartass response, but he holds back this time. Or maybe it’s the literal truth. I’ll never know. With Connor, it’s hard to discern these things unless you’re in his head.
Ryke stays standing with Connor, and my dad addresses the entire room, though his gaze lands on me and Lil the most. He starts pacing in front of the fireplace. His hands now on his hips. Then on the back of his neck. He rubs his fingers together like he’s missing his glass of liquor.
My thoughts scramble. I just don’t see what this could be about—
“You four.” He suddenly stops pacing and motions between Ryke, Daisy, Lily and me, appraising us. Like he’s tallying our worth. When his eyes land on me, they actually redden. “One of you needs to grow the fuck up. I don’t care which one of you it is, but it has to happen.”
A noise between pain and laughter catches my throat. “What are you even talking about?”
My dad says, “Open your goddamn ears, Loren.”
I grimace. “Right, I don’t understand anything. Because I’m not smart enough or strong enough, because I can’t hit a homerun or make a touchdown, I can’t comprehend sentences and words.” I give him a half-smile that hurts my face.
“Clearly you’re not stupid. You just like being a pain in my ass.” His broad shoulders lock, and he fixes his suit and checks his watch. Like he’s running out of time. He addresses the four of us again. “In the media, you all are represented about equally heinously. Now I think you’re all beautiful little shits, but my opinion really doesn’t matter.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a creased paper with coffee stains.
The only one who doesn’t look confused is my dad—the one with all the answers.
“There are some people whose opinions do matter.” He reads off the paper. “In a group of fourteen—ten men and four women, average age forty-two—every single goddamn female found Ryke Meadows, my eldest son, vulgar, aggressive, threatening, and I quote, ‘a hazard to children everywhere.’”
“What the fuck are you reading?” Ryke asks.
Our dad flashes the paper at us, and instead of typed sentences, all I see are pen scribbles. “My notes,” he clarifies. “Five men labeled you as a work-in-progress. The other five saw no silver lining with you. And a seventy-five-year-old said, I quote, ‘if he spits in the face of a cameraman, what’s to say he wouldn’t spit in our faces?’ A wise statement.”
My pulse is racing. I keep shaking my head.
No one interrupts him. He focuses now on my brother’s girlfriend, Lily’s little sister, someone who I wish was far away from my dad. “Daisy Calloway, daughter of a respected entrepreneur. Every female said you’re too young, too immature, and too reckless. The men, however, found you to be charming, alluring, and presentable.” My dad looks up from the paper. “I don’t take stock in their opinions since they were swayed by their dicks.”
Daisy’s mouth falls.
Ryke is fuming, steam practically rising off his skin.
I’m too stunned and caught off guard. I scratch the back of my neck that heats.
Before my brother actually charges forward—which is nearing a possibility—our dad raises his hands in defense. “Moving on to Lily Calloway.” Shit. I clasp Lily’s knee beneath the blanket. She’s unmoving.
“You don’t need to read what the public thinks of her,” I snap at him. “She gets it.” We’ve all heard everything before.
He pushes his finger at the paper. “These fourteen people aren’t the entire public. It’s a fraction, and they’re important.” He continues reading from his notes, “Lily Calloway has sexual relations with two of my sons at once—as stated by five of fourteen. The women like that you’re pregnant, but they find you shy, impersonal and awkward on camera. Three men appeared to admire your Princeton undergraduate degree, while the rest thought it was insignificant. One woman said, and I quote, ‘she is the most popular Calloway but also the most unpopular’ which is ridiculous but true.”
Lily has the most negative press, but as a couple, we have the biggest fanbase because of the way Princesses of Philly edited us. So I get that comment. What I don’t understand is the point to this whole charade.
My father suddenly spins to me. I freeze as he says, “Loren Hale, my second-born son…” His shoulders slacken, and when his eyes flicker to mine, I see more admiration in them, more love. “…all fourteen were first scared to criticize you in front of me, but I goaded them into doing it.”
“Wait,” I frown. “You know these people, personally?” For some reason, I thought they were a random test group. Like someone asked pedestrians on the street their opinions about us.
“Of course I do,” he says. “All fourteen make up the Board of Directors for Hale Co.”
I stare off, suddenly realizing what this may be about. No, it can’t…
He continues while my head rolls, “Loren Hale is not as big of a hothead as Ryke Meadows…They were really going easy on you at first.” He skims the paper. “The majority found you to be ‘angry-looking’ which is a stupid little adjective. The women thought you came across thoughtful and caring towards your girlfriend, but they were worried if you were a team player. You are generally sympathetic in the media, being my bastard child, though you appear standoffish when it concerns Hale Co.—which worries all of them. It’s why I’m here.”
His eyes flit up to mine again.
And the answer that we’ve all wanted is about to finally come.
“I’m socially and corporately tainted since the…rumors about you and me.”
He can’t say it.
The molestation rumors. False accusations about my dad touching me when I was a kid. There will always be skeptics believing they were true, no matter how much evidence crops up advocating against it. No matter how hard we scream, people still won’t believe us. It’s what makes me sick most of the time.
“Stocks have dropped. Hale Co. isn’t looking good, and the board is pressuring me to not only name an heir but to hand the company off. I can’t represent it anymore. But I refuse to pass Hale Co. to some random, white-collared little shit. It’s going to one of you four beautiful little shits and staying in the family.”
He’s been sitting on this for weeks, months maybe. The board is forcing him to step down, and I can’t even wrap my head around stepping up. I have a comic book business. I’m about to have a baby. Lily is hormonal and starting to regress. I’ve been sober for only four months since the last time I relapsed.
Hale Co. is a multi-billion dollar company. And I still feel like a little kid playing grown-up.
“If no one is going to say anything,” my dad starts again, “then I’ll go on. You need to impress the board, not me. The
y can vote you out at any time, so you have to earn their respect. But they will accept one of you, guide you, train you. This, I know. Hale Co. is a family company, something my father passed to me, and they appreciate that. It’s a goddamn good marketing tool.”
Ryke points at Daisy on the loveseat. “She’s not my fucking wife, so keep her out of this.”
“I needed to give the board some options. She was one of the names brought up due to her affiliation with Fizzle. And if she means something to you, then she means something to me and the Hale legacy. If you don’t fucking marry her, then she’s still a goddamn Calloway.”
A rock is in my throat, but I somehow clear it to ask, “Is the board choosing who takes over or are we?”
“The board will decide. You’ll attend functions with them, meetings, and when they choose, you have to be willing to sign the papers and commit. If you don’t, the company is no longer in our family’s control, and we’ll lose a substantial number of shares.”
I didn’t think that my dad would turn my world upside down again. Not like this. It’s a life change for one of us.
Ryke just keeps shaking his head over and over.
“Ryke, I’ll be fine,” Daisy tells him. “It could be fun.”
He towers above her while she’s on the loveseat. “You spent years doing things for your fucking mom. I’m not letting you do the same for my dad.” He turns back to Jonathan. “I’ll go through with the meetings, whatever. Just leave Daisy alone.”
“That’s not how it works,” he says. “She can sabotage herself so they won’t pick her, but she’s still required to attend the meetings.”
Ryke’s eyes flash hot. “You can’t just promise people things without asking us if it’s fucking okay.”
“Do you ever look at the name beside all the deposits in your checking account, Ryke? It’s Hale Co.—every penny in your trust fund is from that company, and so I don’t believe I should have to ask for your permission.”
Ryke sets his hands on top of his head. “This is fucking unbelievable.”
“I’m losing my goddamn company, and you’re throwing a hissy fit. You’ve never even had real job. You’re all privileged and lucky. Every day you take it for granted.”
Shit.
It’s like he busted something in Ryke. My brother charges forward, and I shoot to my feet and grab his shoulder.
“Come on,” I whisper to him, trying to force him backwards, but he’s like a brick wall and his target is on Jonathan.
Ryke glowers. “I grew up pretending to have no real fucking parents. I’m an alcoholic. Both of your sons are alcoholics. There is no amount of privilege and wealth worth what’s been fucking done to us and said about the people we love.” And he ends it with, “I’m lucky to be alive, but I am not lucky to be your son.”
My ribs bind around my lungs. The fact that they’re on speaking terms, after years of silence, is progress enough.
“Please, tell me what you really feel,” my dad says dryly.
Daisy jumps to her feet and stands between Ryke and my dad. She places her hands on my brother’s chest. “Ryke, it’s okay.”
I glance back at Lily. She’s staring off in a daze, but her palms are flat on top of the blanket. She’s not touching herself. That eases some of my worry.
“Stay the fuck out of this,” Ryke tells her. “I don’t want you in it.”
“I’d rather be picked to run Hale Co. than watch you take it over,” she says honestly. “You’ve told me a million times how you’ve never wanted to be a part of it. And you always say to never do things that you hate, do the things you love. So don’t change now.”
His nose flares. “You’ll fucking hate this job too. You’ll be inside a building, in a cubicle, all fucking day, Dais.”
“It’s an office,” our dad interjects, “with one of the best views of Philly. There are plenty of windows for her to jump out of.”
Ryke looks like he could strangle him.
I grimace because it’s a bad comment—one that I could’ve easily made instead.
“Ryke.” Daisy clasps his arm, drawing his attention to her. “How about you let me decide what I hate and what I love, okay?” Her voice is sweet, but her words pack a punch.
He relents, right there. “I fucking hate this,” he says lowly.
And I realize that she’s not going to sabotage her chances. Because she doesn’t want Ryke to be chosen. Ryke is probably going to try harder—because he doesn’t want Daisy to live this kind of life. I think we all know there’s a two-percent chance she’ll enjoy it.
As much as I would like to get off free, damage my own chances, and leave Ryke or Daisy to follow my father’s dreams and not their own—I’m not that guy anymore. The hard things are usually the right things.
I know that now.
“I’ll do it,” I say. I have to do it, but I’m telling the whole room that I’m going to try. My chest constricts with the weight and pressure of this statement. Of the things and responsibilities that will become mine. It all rests right on top of Halway Comics, Superheroes & Scones, my child, and our addictions.
“No,” Connor and Rose say in unison, both of them glaring at me for even offering.
But my dad is on cloud nine. I’ve never seen him smile like that, his pride overwhelming, and the foreign sentiment sits strangely inside me. He’s always wanted me to take over Hale Co. Not Ryke. I may be the bastard and the second-born son, but I’m the one he raised.
I understand. This is my legacy—what I was always supposed to do in the end. Everything has led here.
Lily suddenly chimes in, “He has a business already. He doesn’t have time for anything else.”
It’s true.
“Managers, staff,” my father emphasizes. “He can leave Halway Comics in good hands, and Superheroes & Scones is practically running itself.”
I shoot him a sharp look. “Lily does a lot—”
He cuts me off, “I expect Lily to put her best effort in the running too.”
He can’t be serious. “She’s pregnant,” I say with edge.
He outstretches his arms. “It’s a baby product company. There is no better time for her to be involved than now. And when she gives birth, she can bring Maxof to some product testing.”
“Maximoff,” everyone corrects him.
“Get used to that.” He scowls and searches the living room with his daggered gaze. Still no liquor cart. Sorry, Dad. “Not everyone will understand the things that you do.”
Lily sits straighter. “I’ll do it.”
“Lily.” I shake my head. “No.” The last thing that she needs is more anxiety.
She says, “Better me than you.”
“No,” I cringe, realizing exactly how Ryke just felt. I clench my teeth harder than before, more pissed now. I don’t want the girls at Hale Co. I don’t want this life for them.
They were free.
Weren’t they?
“Both of you are self-sabotaging,” I snap at Daisy and Lily.
“No,” they reply adamantly.
I’m lying on the tracks of a train—letting it speed over me and just hoping that I’m not swept up in the momentum. It’s now that I recognize what will happen.
We’re all agreeing to my father’s proposition for each other. No one will back down anymore.
I was indebted to my dad the moment he chose to let me live and enter this world. I thought I proved myself to him, but this future has been here all along, a path that I knew I’d meet at some point. The suit and tie, the briefcase with the Hale Co. logo.
It’s mine to take.
No one else should.
But everyone will fight for it. I can already see the wheels spinning in my brother’s mind. His constricted muscles and the shake of his head that says back down, let me have it.
Ryke would endure hell for eternity if it meant that I could go to heaven.
Once upon a time, I think I would’ve let him. Not anymore.
; He deserves his paradise. So I’ll fight against my brother. I’ll fight against Lily and Daisy for this position. The winner is the loser.
And this cage has my name on it.
{ 13 }
LOREN HALE
“This is it?” I ask Ryke as he carries down Daisy’s duffel bag. Rose has a five-piece suitcase stacked by the door along with the rest of our luggage for the yacht trip.
“That’s it.” He tosses the duffel on the pile. The girls are eating breakfast while we haul everything to the car. “How’s Lily?” Ryke asks me in the foyer.
Connor abruptly finishes texting and straightens up off the wall.
“She’s fine,” I say vaguely. It’s been a couple days since my dad unleashed the news about Hale Co., and afterwards, I held Lily in my arms all night and tried to distract her with a Harry Potter marathon—something that wouldn’t arouse her.
I think I said no only two times before she rolled away from me and tried to fight her compulsions. I have my fair share of ups and downs, but it’ll always be harder watching Lily hit a low than going through my own. Watching someone you love in pain—and not being able to fix it—it’s agony that I don’t wish on anyone.
“Have you had sex?” Connor asks while Ryke slips on his shoes, about to go for a short run with me. He bends down to tie the laces.
“Have you?” I retort. Connor knows the rules now. I’m not sharing details about my sex life without something in return.
Connor cups a mug of coffee. “She woke up to me thrusting inside of her. So I’d say yes.”
My brows rise at that image. Jesus.
Still crouched, Ryke gapes at Connor. “You didn’t really fuck her while she was asleep.”
“She woke up a couple seconds after I pushed into her, which is the point.” He sips his coffee and watches Ryke’s expression darken. “Heel, boy,” Connor banters.
I smile wide, even as Ryke stands an inch taller than me. Now he’s closer to Connor’s height than before. “Fucking hilarious.”
Addicted After All Page 10
