Royal Prick(20)

“For instance, going to school and staying away from any illegal activities. I get that fighting is an outlet for you, but there are other ways to help with your emotions. Fighting isn’t something you can do for the rest of your life.” That was a ballsy response.

“You hope I can’t do it for the rest of my life, but the truth is I’m my own keeper and if I want to head down a destructive path then I will,” I said, correcting him. I cracked my knuckles as he rolled his eyes at my response.

“Whatever you say, son, just know I’m more than willing to build a gym here at the house or we can get you a membership somewhere so you can rid yourself of that hateful tension.” I allowed him to finish speaking because even if I didn’t want to admit it I wanted to know what else he had to say.

That and I wanted to take the entire offer and shove it back down his throat. I didn’t need shit, and I most certainly didn’t want his money. I wanted nothing from the man I knew only as a sperm donor. If he thought he could glitter me with gifts and I would listen, he was in for an enormous wake-up call.

“I can’t be bought. I can’t be told what to do. I make my own choices, Daddy… You’re going to have to do better than that because nothing you say or want from me is going to happen.” I couldn’t help my reaction to what he said and done. Comparing me to himself, and then thinking I could be bought into servitude. Fuck him and his perfectly perfect lifestyle. He might be able to buy other people, but I wasn’t one of them. Not now, not ever.

No fucking way! A ripple of rage hit me, and I kicked the chair over that was behind me, and then I raised my already battered fist to his bookcase, slamming my knuckles against the solid wood panel.

“Royal!” my father bellowed out for me, and I ignored him, walking out of his office, my fist slamming into the study door. I needed more than what he could offer me; hell I needed more a long time ago. There was no saving me from myself, and trying only made me want to squish you that much more.

I needed to call my mom and find out if she really was part of all this bullshit. Part of me didn’t believe she would side with Mark and try and buy me into listening with a bunch of expensive shit that I didn’t need. Then again, the mother I knew my entire life also wouldn’t send me hundreds of miles away to live with the loser that left both of us for this perfect life that he now had.

His voice was still calling out to me as I walked down the hall with heavy footsteps, each one landing precisely against the wooden floor. Air filled my lungs, each breath coming out in a pant. My vision blurred, and all I could see was the need for vengeance, a resonating urge to destroy everything in my path.

“Are you okay?” Noelle’s eyes were huge, and in them I could see worry. It stuck out to me more than anything else on her. I looked down to where it was she was staring. Blood dripped from my fist and onto the pristine white carpet. How didn’t I notice that before?

Oh shucks, I stained their perfect white carpet.

“Don’t you have something to do, princess? Maybe something that involves perfect grades and focusing on your studies…” I spoke to her the same way her mother did earlier.

Sadness filled her eyes as she straightened her back and tipped her chin up. That’s right, princess, make yourself look strong, make yourself look unbreakable, and I will tear down every single wall you build up. I’ll destroy you, and smile like the wolf I am the entire fucking time I do it.

“You’re nothing but a man with a big fucking daddy issue. A man that’s far too afraid to handle the past, a man on the verge…” I heard enough come from those full lips of hers. I took my bloodied hand and gripped her by the throat. My hold was loose but could easily be tightened in a blink of her eyes.

I could hear her breathing spike, and the fear and panic that filled her eyes just added to the raging inferno inside of me.

I slammed her back against the wall, and looked straight into her hazel eyes. She seemed scared, but even more than that she seemed concerned. She seemed to care, and caring meant something that I didn’t want to explore.

“You know nothing about me.” I squeezed the soft flesh of her throat in my grasp as I spoke. “Don’t make assumptions, and don’t fucking assume it’s an issue I have with my father, when it could be an issue I have with you.” I had no idea where the last part of that sentence came from. Maybe I wanted her to think she was the reason I was angry, or maybe I just wanted her to know I had been thinking about her. I couldn’t even fucking understand the thoughts that were rattling around inside my brain.