KESTER.
I swear to fuck, I didn’t want to answer my phone since it was my father calling.
I knew my father didn’t call unless something was boiling under his wrinkled skin. And honestly? If this call could irritate him a little–drag it out, make him squirm–then it won’t be a bad idea to frustrate the old fucker a little bit.
It would keep me occupied as I drove home. Plus, I was still very upset about not being able to finish what I had set out to do tonight. But it was fine. As long as Kasmine was the one who had stopped me, I was fine.
If she says Melissa gets to live, then so be it. That’s how it works now!
I answered the call while driving at an unhealthy speed. I was in a hurry to return home to my baby.
“Yes?” I said flatly, not bothering with the useless pleasantries he probably still thought he deserved.
I knew my tone would piss him off. That was the point.
Let the old fuck stew in it.
There was stale silence. The kind that used to make me sit straighter as a kid, hands on my knees, waiting to be reprimanded like a dog pissing where it shouldn’t.
But that version of me? That pathetic little boy is fucking dead.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, my eyes fixed on the road as I muttered, “Are you going to speak or just breathe like a fucking pervert?”
That got him.
He let out a sharp exhale like I’d poked something under his skin, and he was bleeding ego.
“Kester,” he finally said, “Jorja’s threatening to divorce me.”
I scoffed loud enough just to make sure he heard it.
That was it?
That was why he called me?
I almost laughed, but I caught myself. Not because I cared–God no–hut because I was curious. I wanted to hear what kind of pathetic spin he’d put on this.
“And that’s supposed to be my business, how?”
“She’s your mother.”
No, she’s your wife. That’s your fuck–up to deal with, not mine.” I shot back, keeping my voice flat and dead. “If she finally wants out of that stale, loveless circus you call a marriage, I’d say she deserves a standing ovation.”
“You’re not even a little concerned?” he asked, and I heard his voice tightening, “She’s threatening to leave because of you!” he snapped, “Because of that ridiculous pairing the Moon Goddess forced… because you’re refusing to reject your stepsister!”
1/3
Chapter 300
“I don’t give a fuck if she’s my stepsister. She’s mine. She was always mine. Too bad I haven’t emphasized this enough.” I replied casually.
“Kester…”
“She’s the only one who’s ever made me feel like I wasn’t some walking fucking mistake. You think I’ll give her up just to save your sad excuse of a marriage? Not happening. Not even in your goddamn dreams.” I cut him off.
“Kester, listen to me-
“No, you listen,” I growled. “I don’t give a shit, if the whole damn council thinks it’s a mistake. I don’t care if the heavens themselves come down to beg me–I’m not rejecting her. Not today. Not ever.”
“She’s your stepsister!” he barked as if I didn’t know. “It’s an abomination, Kester! A scandal the pack will never recover from!”
“Then burn the whole pack to the ground,” I said coldly. “Let it fucking rot if that’s what it takes. I’ll stand in the ashes with her in my hands and a smile on my face.”
There was a long pause.
“You’d really let your mother leave me over this?” he said, his voice becoming quieter, “Your mother whom we love? Does that mean
nothing to you?”
I laughed.
“You want me to care about your happiness?” I scoffed, glancing at my rearview. “Why the fuck should I care about your happiness,
old man?”
I slowed the car just enough to take a sharp turn without killing someone, then sped up again.
“You ruined my childhood. You gave me nothing but silent treatments, bruises, cold dinners, loneliness, and a house full of rules
that didn’t make any sense. You acted like I was some experiment gone wrong. And now you want me to feel something because
your wife doesn’t want to rot beside you anymore?”
I shook my head slowly as if he could see me.
“No. You deserve it. Every ounce of loneliness that awaits you. Every second of sadness. I hope it eats you from the inside. So don’t feed me that guilt trip about ‘family‘ now that your world’s falling apart.”
“I’m still your father, Kester.”
“No. You’re a man who donated sperm and then spent two decades trying to kill anything soft in me. You don’t get to wear the title ‘father‘ like it means something.”
I tsked, “You broke me, then act surprised when I turned into a fucking weapon. How pathetic.”
Then, just for the fun of it, I added, “And hey… if Jorja does divorce you, that clears the way for me to marry Kasmine in peace. So, I think I’d push for that divorce.”
I could practically hear the blood draining from his face through the line, but I didn’t give a fuck. I drop say anything else.
Just before I dropped the phone, it beeped again, and when I checked, I saw that it was a text from Kasmine.
My appetite is a mess. Grab something for me, since you won’t let me step out.”
e call before he could
2/3
Chapter 300
Fuck. Did that just cause the dead butterflies in my stomach to kick like they’d been zapped back to life?
Mine was actually asking me to get her something on my way back?
Me?
Did she have any idea what that did to me? How that casual message hit harder than anything else tonight?
If this wasn’t the kind of family I dreamed of, what else could it be?
Coming back from a blood–soaked night and grabbing groceries for my wife like any other man.
Stopping by her favorite spot just to make her smile.
Getting these soft, mundane texts from her to run some errands here and there for her before returning home.
My life was finally falling into place.
Even though she didn’t exactly sound happy in her text, it was still a great start.
And I’d be fucking damned if I didn’t walk through that front door tonight with the whole goddamn city’s worth of food in my trunk for her to pick from.
