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Fear coursed through my veins as I thought of my grandparents, but I’d spoken to my grandmother this morning, and she’d seemed fine. However, my father had never tried this hard to reach me.
I nodded. “I got it. You can close the door and head home. Merry Christmas, Tink.”
Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but instead, she nodded and pulled the door closed.
“What’s so urgent?” I asked, my voice lacking any sign of emotion when I picked up the phone.
“Merry Christmas to you, too. I’ve been trying to reach you and Wyle for a few days. You can’t return a phone call?”
“I’ve been busy.” I never returned his calls this time of year. It was a reminder of how much I despised him, and I didn’t want to hear about his fancy trips to Europe or any of his bullshit.
“Well, so have I, Maddox. I’ve got news.”
“Let me guess. People have discovered who you really are, and you need me to lie for you?”
He chuckled. “You’re hilarious. Nope. I got married, son. And she’s having a baby. You’re going to have a new little brother or sister. If that isn’t the best news to make this holiday even more special, I don’t know what is.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You ditched your first wife when she was dying. Do you really think marriage is a good idea for you?” My father hadn’t changed since my mother’s passing. It hadn’t been a wake-up call or a rock-bottom moment—he’d just continued on, going through women at a rapid rate, making promises he never kept, and using his money to make ugly situations go away.
“You repeat that again, and I’ll have your grandfather strip you of every title he’s given to you, you pretentious prick. You have the life that you have because you aremy son. You don’t know what it’s like to watch the woman you love die right in front of your eyes. Do you hear me?”
“You’re shouting, so of course, I hear you,” I growled. “And I do know what it’s like to watch someoneI lovedie right in front of my eyes, because I was fucking there. Wyle was fucking there. You were off doing God knows what with God knows who.”
“We are not doing this right now. We will be there for Christmas dinner, and there will be a photographer there to take family photos. We want to make it official before news of the baby breaks. We’ll have a reception on New Year’s Eve. It’s a small event that we’ll host at the hotel. There will be a red carpet and photographers, so you best make sure you and Wyle are both there. And you’ll put on a friendly face tomorrow night. Are we clear?”
“Do you have any fucking remorse for the shit you’ve done?”
“Maddox, you’re my son. I love you. I understand that you’re angry. And yes, I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. But your mother is not dead because I’m an asshole. She’s dead because she got an awful disease, and it took her from us. When you and Wyle can finally admit that and stop blaming me, maybe we can all move forward. I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect you to be there, as do your grandparents. It’ll be like old times. We’ll have a family dinner, and you’ll be polite to my wife and pose for pictures and all that shit that we’ve all done a million times. So, stop pouting and get on board.”
It always shocked me how much my grandparents tolerated from my father. But he was an only child, and even though they didn’t agree with the way he lived his life, they loved him unconditionally.
The way a parent should.
The way my mother loved my brother and me.
I ended the call and sent a text to Wyle before seeing the group text from our grandfather, letting us both know that we were expected to be there tomorrow night and on New Year’s Eve.
The message was clear.
Our family would be supporting my father and his wife.
And Wyle and I were no exception.
I walked over to my minibar and reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring a double and tipping my head back as the cool liquid ran down my throat.
And then I filled it again.
And again.
fifteen
Georgia
I hearda glass shatter against the wall, and I paced outside his office door. I’d heard shouting earlier, and then I’d seen the light on the phone go off, so I knew he was no longer on the call with his father. And it had been an hour. His door hadn’t opened. He’d told me to leave, but I couldn’t leave him knowing that he was upset.
Plus, I had a gift for him out in my car that I hoped to give him before Christmas. I knocked on the door, and he didn’t answer, so I pushed it open.
Maddox sat behind his desk, his hair a disheveled mess, coat flung on the floor, and his shirt was unbuttoned a bit, the sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscled forearms. A bottle of whiskey sat on his desk and broken glass pooled on the floor a few feet away.
