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And I had damn well better answer every time.
I don’t, and it rings again, and again, and something inside me clams up, firing warning signals through my limbs. Stop. Pick it up.
If I don’t, there will be consequences.
I kiss Hellena and excuse myself, hating every second of it. Saying goodbye is impossibly hard, but I manage, shutting that part down and trying to shift into Tyler Vanderbelt, mayor’s son. I’m halfway down the hall, swiping to answer.
“Junior. I need you at the house ASAP. Got something I need you to look into.” That’s the whole conversation. Just like that, I’m told what to do and when to do it. Like a fucking lapdog.
“I understand. Be right there.” Even my voice changes, a quavering hesitance to every word. I hate him. My father, and the version of myself I am when I’m around him. This was who I was growing up. This is who I was beaten into.
The quiet, elusive young man most people forgot about. I leaned into that, the recluse. The socially inept and dysfunctional shut-in who never leaves his studio apartment. It was the perfect cover to get out from under my dad’s rule to a degree, to stay under his radar.
As I slip out the front door, I catch another glimpse of our stalking host, watching me leave from his office window. Probably seething at my being in his space, touching his things.
He’s always been possessive.
I can tell he’s as hopelessly in love with Hellena as I am. As Gavin is. Most guys would be pissed, jealous, or just call it quits. For me? It all fits. Hellena is the only person all of the versions of me want. So it only makes sense that she could fall for the other men in her life, other roles that fill different facets and aspects of her needs.
Or maybe I’m just weird.
Whatever makes her happy, makes me happy. And I’ve never had any issues with the idea of sharing, even at the same time. Gavin and Evan are both hot.
I know I have my limitations and that I may not be good enough for her. But demanding she be only mine is never going to be one of them.
The drive through the hills helps me clear my head, get in character. I had to stop off to switch cars, change faces.
Try and get her out of my thoughts. Good luck with that.
A text has me giddy, her asking when we can see each other again.
It's a brief second where I get a reprieve from everything going on in my life. I wish I could just stay with her. Forget about all this bullshit. Forget about the war brewing between rival gangs, politics, gathering intel.
That's what I've got to go deal with now. And I need to be on my A-game.
A stiff-necked guard opens the gate to the manor grounds, waving me on. They know my car. I can see the jokes about it in their eyes. Loser son of the most important man in Sanctum, driving his loser smart car.
I drive straight around to the guest house, where I know my dad will be in the office he prefers, out of the house and away from my mother and sister. I can relate. The two of them are practically strangers to me.
Mom is permanently perc’d up. Shannon is umbilically attached to her Tik-Tok feed.
“Go on in, Tyler.” Another guard steps aside to allow me up the stairs. I nod and hook the edges of my lips down, a perpetual frown of distress.
Inside, the air stinks of sterile chemicals and whiskey. Dad is a clean freak. And a closet drunk.
Wonder why I’m so screwed up?
“Hello, Father.”
“Tyler, my son, it's good to see you.” He hides his slur exceptionally well. He fakes that he cares pretty well, too. You would think at home, he’d be a little less of a politician, but if anything, he's more so.
“Mmhmm. You too.” I’m placid. Timid.
The smile twisting his lean features is hard, forced. At least he’s rarely malicious with Tyler Jr. He saves the majority of his temper for his mistresses.
And work. He’s ruthless as a city official. Behind closed doors only.
On the campaign trail and at fundraisers, it’s a different person altogether. The rich part of the city loves him for maintaining the status quo, their “peace”.
