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“This about Emily?” Jase asks, “or Ava?”
“Ava,” Mason growls in response. “She knew this shit would happen. I fucking warned her. She still hasn’t answered her damn phone. All she did is send a bullshit text telling me she’d talk to me tomorrow.”
I’m not exactly in the mood to hang out with anyone, but Mason can’t be left alone. He’ll end up at Ava’s banging down her damn door if left unattended.
“We’ll leave soon.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Mason’s eyes cut past my shoulder and narrow, his body lunging forward on an unsteady gait.
I turn as he passes me, my fucking stomach tightening with rage as soon as I see who he raced forward to intercept.
Teeth slamming together at the sight of my father, I glance behind me at Damon, Jase’s hand landing on my shoulder at the same time.
“I’ve got him. Go deal with that shit before Mason starts something.”
Jase heads Damon’s direction while I walk forward to grab Mason and pull him away from my father.
Mason attempts to tug out of my hold, but grits his teeth and glances at me when he remembers just who he’s dealing with.
“I’ll take care of this. Go help Jase out with Damon.”
It’s not that this asshole who raised Damon and me affects me less than it does Damon, it’s simply that I have better control over how I handle him. Damon’s rage runs far deeper, and I don’t trust him not to act on it in front of everybody here.
“Do you need something, William?”
Anger bleeds into his expression to be called by his first name. I don’t give a fuck about the lack of respect it shows. I’d intended it.
Although we haven’t heard from this jackass since the last time he dragged us off for a weekend when we were still at Yale, he still attempts to make himself known at social functions we attend.
“Just wanted to see how my sons are doing.”
He eyes flick to Damon and back to me.
“Looks like both of you are going soft.”
Chuckling at that, I resist the urge to remind him of exactly what his bullshit created.
I nudge my chin in the direction of Warbucks and Daddy Dearest.
“You might want to return to your friends. Damon and I have nothing to say to you.”
When he attempts to step around me, I move with him, intentionally closing the space between us to remind him that his sons grew up to be bigger than him.
Time is weakening this motherfucker, but it’s making his boys a hell of a lot stronger.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I’m a little surprised he’s even attempting this shit, but when I smell the alcohol rolling off his breath, I understand why he thought he stood a chance of getting close.
His stare holds mine, and I don’t miss the tension over his shoulders.
Stretching my hands out, I resist the urge to react any more than that to the quiet threat of his stare.
“Tell your brother I’ll be in touch,” he says.
I don’t respond. He wants a reaction, and I’m not willing to give it to him. I can’t say the same would be the case with Damon. He has yet to learn to control his temper.
After watching him stroll back to where the rest of our fathers are gathered, the muscles in my shoulders relax only slightly. Memories threaten to invade my thoughts, images I’ll never be able to escape.