Fucking shit. Here it comes. I can't roll my eyes fast enough. Too bad it doesn't shut him up. I tune out for half his rant.
“Living like a monk at the goddamned library...ass in chair, coding like a monkey, building Spree line by line and struggling to earn a thousand dollars a month...I swear, son, you just don't get it...you'd blow your stack and run the minute you stepped a single foot into a room full of fucking angel investors!”
It all washes over me. We both know it. Hearing him drop a rare F-bomb snaps me back to attention. I take a few steps backward and start laughing.
Dad looks like a damned grenade about to blow up and shower me in shrapnel. His fists are pressed tight to his gray slacks and they're trembling. He's not man enough to punch me – sometimes I wish he would, just so we'd finally have it out at a level I can actually understand.
But no, I'm not intellectual enough for him. I'm not a suit-wearing workaholic. I'm not rich enough. I haven't pissed away the best years of my life licking other rich dudes' assholes, and shitting my pants every goddamned week over some new lawsuit or fresh regulation or profits for the shareholders.
“And what would you do if another guy walked up and smashed you right in the face, right fucking now?” He's looking at me like I just threatened him.
Well, fuck it, maybe I did. I'm not gonna be the one to break my old man's jaw – even though he's begging for it. Somebody else out there is bound to do it for me one day. I can practically hear the old karma train chugging away in the background, hungry to chew pricks like Dad up and shit them back out.
“I'd walk away before that ever happens,” he stutters. “I'd...I'd call the police.”
The crap coming outta his mouth makes me laugh all over again. I can't help it. If this weren't deadly serious, I'd be rolling on the goddamned ground.
“What, are you a hyena now? This is why I've got to treat you like a child, Ty. You haven't grown up yet. It looks like you never will.”
“At least I've grown a fucking backbone.” I can't stop growling, and the droning in my throat only quickens when I see the disgust rippling in his eyes.
“You've wasted half your damned life stacking up coin and never doing shit with it. I know I'm gonna get a call one day from some asshole underling who's found you slumped over at your desk.” I pause. “As much as you piss me off, I don't want that to happen. I wish you'd let go and pull the stick outta your ass just once. The world doesn't need us to be the perfect model billionaire family. It just needs us to be real.”
“Real?” He throws his hands up and paces a lap around me. “What is it with you and that word? What the hell do you know about the real world, anyway? I've given you everything, Ty, and you've taken it all for granted. The six-figure prep school you flunked out of, the summer jobs at my company you blew off, the club I helped you land for a bargain in Seattle...I gave you too much.”
That makes me snort like I'm fucking drowning. It's just as well, seeing how I need to eyeball the water, or else I might end up punching him in his arrogant shit face after all.
“You didn't give me crap after ma died. Not anything that matters. You gave me food, shelter, clothing, the trust fund. You gave me tutors who tried to ram shit down my throat I wasn't interested in. You gave me all the tools I'd need to become a carbon copy of you. And that's all you ever wanted me to be.”#p#分页标题#e#
Hatred flickers in his eyes like smoke. The fact that he doesn't have an instant comeback says it all.
I've hit the spike and driven it deep. Too damned far to deny because it's true.
“One thing we'll both agree on,” I say. “You're more stubborn than I am. You won't stop trying to carve the perfect fucking family and make me into the golden boy you always wanted, even when you ought to know it's too late for all that. You want everybody in this damned house being your props for the perfect PR campaign. You won't just chill and accept this shit for what it is. You're too big an asshole, Dad. Hell, if you'd shut the fuck up and accept I'm never gonna be standing in line to take over Spree when you're gone, maybe I'd give you a pass for picking up your DC gold digger and pissing on Mom's grave!”
Near the end, the filter connecting my brain and my mouth snaps. It's too much, even for the bastard giving me the evil eye. I don't expect him to seriously do it – but he fucking does.
For the first time in a long while, Dad surprises me. He moves real fast, and something hard smashes me right in my bruised jaw.
I tumble back. It's all shock and awe. I've been hit by bigger, badder guys hundreds of times. But the fact that I've actually moved my old man to physically strike for the first time in his damned life is like the sky coming down.