Page 51 of Painkiller (Sin Records #3)

It doesn’t help that I’m gone a lot, high all the time, and spend way too much time with a bottle because I can’t move past my anger over what his mother did to me, at my mom for leaving me, or my dad for not seeing what was happening.

Because no matter how many times I try to convince myself it wasn’t my dad’s fault, the resentment and anger never fade.

It’s his fault Krista was brought into our lives.

My life. His fault she destroyed this family, her own daughter included.

In my mind, he’s just as responsible as Krista. As I am.

And I meant what I said about taking him from all he knows. From Casey and Graham. Even my dad, despite every fiber of my being insisting that’s the real mistake I’m making.

Maxwell Davis was a terrific father. To Graham and Casey.

Me? He barely noticed, and when he did, it was to criticize everything I did.

To let me know I would never be good enough or reprimand me for another screw up, including fucking his wife, because no matter how many times I tell him what happened, he refuses to believe it.

Even after everything, he believes whatever he’s concocted in his mind instead of accepting his wife slipped into his son’s room, kept the lights off so he wouldn’t see her face, and proceeded to fuck him when he was too fucked up on coke and X to know his own name because the time when she could blackmail him had long since passed, and she wanted to prove she still could.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there that night, or I wouldn’t have been.

Renee walking in didn’t help things. She saw it for what it looked like, not what it was. And at the time, I was too goddamn fucking embarrassed to admit that I was once again raped by a woman half my size.

It’s ludicrous, right? That I’ve been sexually assaulted by a woman—the same woman, on numerous occasions. When I was a kid? Getting blackmailed to keep a little girl safe? Yeah, that’s a little more believable. You’re always hearing about one kid getting abused to protect another, right?

But when I was twenty-two?

It was my own fucking fault. For getting absolutely trashed. You’d think it would’ve deterred me from substances, but not so much. For staying there instead of going back to my apartment. For being there at all.

But like I said, she was supposed to be out of town.

When I found out she was pregnant, my gut churned. She claimed it was Liam’s for a while. And for that moment, I was relieved.

Turns out she tried similar shit with him. And if a guy is hard, he must be willing, right?

He got lucky

The truth is, I was willing, but I didn’t know it was her. I thought it was Renee who stayed downstairs at the party while I went up to sleep off some of the party favors.

Krista, though? She knew it was me. I never doubted it, even before she confessed, conveniently, with my hand wrapped around her throat. I still don’t understand why she tried to play Liam. Why she didn’t try to extort me early on. But once I had her signature, none of it mattered.

So many blurred lines. So much bullshit.

And an innocent kid mixed in the whole nasty mess.

A kid I hated.

But now I love him.

I want him because when I look at him, I see myself. I see my mom.

Only Maggie knows this, but I sneak over here several times a week to see him unless I’m out of town.

Maggie calls me when my dad’s off doing whatever the hell a bankrupt millionaire does.

It’s why I get to the office late or leave early.

Graham gives me shit, but he knows damn well where I am when I’m not at the office.

If he didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. He wants me to say it.

“Da-da-da.” He slaps my cheek, then squeals before blowing raspberries on my chin.

“Since when do you fucking acknowledge he exists?” I lift my eyes, meeting my father’s as he walks in from a side door.

“Pay more attention for once in your life, and you’d know the answer,” I tell him calmly as I can.

“Is this you trying to hurt me more? Shove your betrayal in my face?” So much hatred flashes in his dark eyes for me, his damn son, because he can’t believe for a second his wife was to blame for anything.

I’ll never understand it. Why is it so hard to believe me when he knows— he goddamn fucking knows the shit that bitch put Liam through?

Oh, but wait, that was my fault, too.

And it’s because of all of this that I hate him just as much, but God help me, I love the bastard, too. I wish I could stop, cut it all off, but I can’t.

“Yeah, Maxwell, that’s what it is. More of my plot to hurt you.”

His jaw clenches. “Maggie!” he bellows, his face growing hot and red.

She appears at the top of the kitchen stairs, where she vanished minutes ago, taking advantage of my presence as she always does to get a few of her other duties done.

He doesn’t even give her a chance to speak before he barks orders.

“Take Noah upstairs. He needs to be cleaned and changed before the party.”

Maggie comes with outstretched arms to us. Noah buries his face in my neck, mumbling, so I give his back a rub before handing him over.

“Who even gave you permission to be around him without supervision?” Dad demands once they’ve left the room.

An unamused snort bursts from me as I shake my head.

I cut my eyes toward Graham, a brow lifted, silently telling him this is why I didn’t want to fucking come here today.

Why I went to the club the night of Noah’s birthday and beat the shit out of my opponent beyond what was necessary to win the fight.

“Last I checked, I don’t need permission to do shit with him.”

“When are you going to grow up, Jagger? You spend all of your time doing God knows what and God knows where. You don’t think about anything but what you want.”

My fists clench at my side. The pain in my jaw from grinding my teeth starts to throb in my temples.

“Dad, back off,” Graham hisses.

“No. Go on. Tell me what a fucking disappointment I am. How you wanted another Graham, but I failed. How I fuck up over and over.” My nostrils flare as I inhale sharp and deeply.

The door opens. Casey steps in, looking between us, her cheeks turning to fire as she notices the thick tension.

Poppy appears behind her, her presence instantly soothing a small sliver of my anger.

Her gaze rakes over the room, starting at Graham, moving to Dad before landing on me.

Her brows furrow as she scans me from head to toe before her attention jerks back to my dad, narrowed and furious.

While I wonder how much she heard, I know it doesn’t matter. Nothing in this house stays innocent .