Get Off on the Pain(56)

I walk toward the door, but stop before I open it. “Thank you, Memphis.”

“For what?”

I look him in the eyes, wanting him to know how grateful I am. “For opening up a bit. For giving me just a little bit to hold onto.” I snuggle into the jacket and smile. “And also for the jacket.”

He nods his head and runs his hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I won’t be home till real late tonight. Do me a favor and keep your eye on Alex.”

I suddenly feel sick and my nerves are going crazy. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I have something to take care of. I have to.” He nods his head toward the door. “You better hurry before you’re late.”

I give him a long, hard look before deciding not to push it. This man only tells me what he wants to.

Sucks for me . . .



ACE OPENS THE DOOR RIGHT as I walk up and reach for it. He gives me his devilishly handsome smile, showing his dimples as he snakes his arm around my shoulder. “Morning, Angel.”

He’s lucky I’m in a halfway decent mood this morning. He’s always so damn happy to see me; especially this early, and it usually makes me want to punch him in his junk.

“Morning,” I mumble. I look around for Styles and don’t see him. I didn’t think I noticed his car in the parking lot. “Where’s Styles?”

Ace raises an eyebrow and tilts his head toward the door as Styles walks in looking half dead. “Here’s the walking liquor bottle now.” He walks over and slaps him on the back, causing Styles to look up and grunt. “What’s wrong, big man? The party didn’t go well or you just went on an all night drinking binge?”

I release a small laugh unable to hold it back, as Styles attempts to sit in his chair, almost missing it. I forgot that his old college buddy was in town and he was throwing a big party for him.

“Fuck off,” Styles says with a grin. “It was the greatest night of my damn life.” He smiles real big as Ace dances up to him and pounds his fist to congratulate him.

“Alright, man.” He backs away. “I’m all ears after this first client. It sounds like you had a hell of a night.”

I shake my head at the boys and walk toward my room. “I’ll be setting up, Styles. If anyone comes in for me just send them back.”

He leans back in his chair and grins like a fool. “Yup.”

After I clean up and get everything organized, I pull out my drawing and just stare at it. I get a sense of pride and I can’t help but to smile. Now that Memphis has pointed out how awesome this looks, it’s easier for me to see it too. I didn’t think it was anything to be proud of. I guess it’s always because I felt I was never good enough.

I carefully place the drawing back into my drawer and stand up from the desk.

“Lyric.”

My blood runs cold at the sound of the deep voice coming from the doorway. I haven’t heard that voice in person for over six months.

I force myself to turn toward the door, and when my eyes set on him I can feel the anger building up. He’s standing there in his stupid expensive suit as if he’s royalty and the world should bow to his fucking feet.

He thinks he’s so fucking powerful, and that he can get anyone to listen to him. He’s wrong. Mother wouldn’t do it. That’s why she left . . . and I won’t do it either.

He tried to make me into what he wanted. He treated me as if I were the little boy he always wanted. The only time he paid any attention to me is when he was teaching me how to fight or making me watch.

“What do you want? Running low on people to do your dirty work?” I growl out.

His dark hair is slicked back, laced with a hint of gray now. I hate looking at him. Seeing him makes me wish that I gave him up when I had the chance. I should have, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because he is my only family and I was . . . scared of being alone.

He smiles and steps further into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m here to see my daughter. You haven’t returned my call in months. You didn’t think I was going to give up that easily . . . did you?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh and roll my eyes. “And you didn’t answer me my whole life. You tell me how the hell it feels to not be wanted. Does it feel good?”

“Dammit, Lyric.” He steps up close to me and grabs my arm, squeezing. “I always wanted you. It was you that didn’t want me. Why can’t you see that? You pushed me away after your mother ran off on us.” He squeezes harder and gets in my face. “I raised you the best I knew how.”

I jerk my arm away from him and focus on not wanting to kill him. He’s wrong. He always does this. He always tries to manipulate me and make me feel as if it’s my fault that he wasn’t in my life. Well fuck him.