Page 79 of The Monster I Am
Oh, she’s good. She knew I was coming. I bet she’s hiding with Mary somewhere. Probably eating peanut butter cookies without me.
Well, not on my watch!
I turn to head back down the hallway to search for her when my attention becomes fixed on the figure standing at the other end. Pausing, immediately I feel the usual rush of ice through my veins, the hardness forming at impressive super speed from the older man’s unwanted presence.
“Tai,” my father says coldly, gesturing for me to come toward him. “My office.”
“Where’s Soph?” I ask equally as chilly, refusing to move a single inch.
He shoots me that habitual expression he wears often—the one that translates to‘Don’t start with me. Rein in your audacity or else’. Instead of voicing those exact words, he glares at me warningly, straightening up his posture with an unnatural stiffness. “My office.”
As usual, I’m nothing more than a mere task to him that requires his own specialized skill set. His attorney-styled twisted structure leaves nothing but more questions and ambiguity.Against my better judgment, I’m forced to assess our positions before deciding on my next move.
It’s no wonder I hate math when I have a father who is a master ofcalculation.
Is he demanding I go to his office? Or was he answeringmy questionand informing me that Soph is in there?
Either way it’s perfectly worded to have me speculating, maximally designed to ensure I have no choice but to follow his order.
He’s a fucking asshole.
Unlike Ry and Hunter, I haven’t spent my life chained to my father. I’m thankful not to be in their shoes, trying to untangle myself from the noose tightened around their necks by the sperm generators. Let’s be honest… My shoes are far more fashionable and perfect for everyday wear. Probably why Calvin ate the damn things.
I know it annoys my father to no end that he has no control or power over me. But he has no one to blame but himself. Two separate facts can be equally true though. As much as he detests my defiance, he doesn’t mind the benefits that normally accompany this inconvenience. He prefers to be away from his children.
To him, criminals and evil masterminds are easier and more pleasant to deal with. After all, it takes one to know one.
But without thatlovelyfamilial tie of loyalty, Dad has to find another way to ensure my compliance when he requires it.
And that weapon is Sophia.
That’s why I’ll never be like him. We may look eerily alike sometimes, but I am nothing if not my mother’s son. She was everything beautiful in my world. Kind, caring, generous… loving. The polar opposite to the poor excuse of a parent in front of me.
I know I’ve made mistakes and done shitty things. Hell, even to the girl I love. But I knew when to stop. I knew when enough was enough.
Ichoseto be human when the situation called for it—even when Bexley was justSpencerto me.
My moral compass might not be as straight as an arrow, but it’s sure as hell not as crooked ashis.
Soph is not a piece of meat to use. He and I both know that she secretly holds onto the hope that one day, he might decide to come back and be the present dad we needed and craved. But you can’t fix something that never existed in the first place. The sad thing is he uses Soph’s hopes and dreams to crush her into submission. Whenever I interject and stop his plans from working, instead of taking his anger out on me, the rightful target, he goes after her because it gets more of a reaction.
It’s as if he gets off on pain and torture. Sick fuck.
“Fine,” I reply, dark and low. “I don’t have all day, though.”
That’s the Tai translation for I’m only coming to find my damn sister and make sure you don’t have her held hostage.
Dad barely flaunts any satisfaction of my compliance, giving the bare minimum acknowledgement by solely gesturing again for me to hurry up like this was always the end result. My fists curl into balls as I follow his route, resisting the urge to give in the temptations and allow my demons to take over.
Images of smashing his skull into the wall race through my mind and it does nothing to calm me—well, except for the hilarious thought that his brain matter would blend into the tacky color of his office walls.
And immediatelythattiny joy is sucked away from me too because now all I can focus on is the fact that it might not be too far from the actual truth. As a criminal attorney, he’s seen and been involved in his fair share of murder cases. It’s not far-fetched to consider that he opted for this particular shade ofdecorative flesh to gloat about his career and area of expertise or perhaps ensuring he has the perfect camouflage setup in case a homicide ever goes down in our humble residence.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing? Nope. Just a feral wolf in Armani.
When I round the corner, my eyes home in on the corner couch knowingly. Red-hot anger replaces the ice in my veins as Soph glances up with swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.
“Soph,” I say firmly without breaking my gaze from her. “Go to your room.”
