Chapter 3
Zachariah
I felt like utter shit. My elbows were on the counter, my head in my hands as my mother busied herself with making food. My head pounded so horribly, I thought it was going to explode. It didn’t help when my mother thought it was necessary to slam every cupboard she opened, and banging the pans around.
I blamed my father. I wouldn’t feel like this if he’d just let me drink myself to death. It would have been a lot easier. Or at least let me keep drinking to numb the pain. Or if he’d just fucking answer one of my many questions.
“Would you knock that off!” I hissed as my mother dropped the pan again on the counter. I swear she was doing it on purpose. Oh wait—she was.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed right back, not afraid of me. “Serves you right for your unwise choice.”
I clamped my mouth shut, knowing she’d only make it worse if I said anything more. It wasn’t often that I was hungover. But the times I was, my lovely mother always made sure to bang every blasted thing. I was sure it had more to do with the fact that I should know better.
She would even do it when it came to my father.
Speaking of him, I was currently not talking to him. There was no way he’d get his say in any of this. He took my wife, even if she asked, away from me. He wouldn’t give me answers that I had to have. My father was not just one of the men I could do as I pleased with. I couldn’t just shoot at him and get what I needed. With Carlos, I would have been shot back at, or worse, killed for even daring to do such a thing as that.
“So why are you ignoring your father? He won’t tell me much of what is going on, but I’m not the one giving him the cold shoulder,” my mom hinted, sliding a plate of food my way.
“You know why,” I grumbled. “He took Avidya.” That was the only answer he had given me after I pretty much pushed him against a wall for at least one answer. It didn’t help matters for either of us. I wanted my wife back and I knew that my father was the only man that could make that happen at the moment. It wouldn’t stop me from tearing the entire earth apart to find her, though.
“She asked to be taken,” Mom stated sadly. “She has her reasons.”
“Which you don’t know of,” I huffed.
“This is one of those things where the less I know, the better. Your father wouldn’t tell me if I were to ask anyhow. She wanted out, and that is all there is to know,” Mom explained. “She’ll come back when she’s good and ready.”
“Why? That’s what I don’t fucking get!” I hissed.
“Watch it,” Dad spat my way as he entered the kitchen. He had cleaned up the office, the one that had been completely destroyed by me just hours ago. I would have just left it, reminding myself of what a huge failure I was to my wife. “I won’t put up with you talking to your mother like that.”
I glared at him, daring him to do anything to me. It was completely his fault. I clenched my sore fists, feeling the cracked skin sting in protest. I nearly broke one hand from my tantrum. I did deserve it.
“She’s safe, right?” Mom asked.
“As safe as she was here,” Dad answered. “She’ll be fine, though. I trust the people I left her with.”
“Which is where?” I asked, hoping beyond hope my question would be answered.
“Somewhere,” Dad answered. “She doesn’t want you to know.”
“Why can’t you just fucking tell me?” I seethed before storming off. I ignored my mom’s concerned voice floating after me.
Of course, my father just had to follow me. Again. What did he think I was going to do? All my whiskey was gone, so I couldn’t go back to drinking away my problems.
“Go away,” I muttered as I went upstairs. I just wanted to be left alone.
“Not till we have a little chat, son,” he said. I knew that tone of voice. The voice that meant he wasn’t going to put up with my shit. Too bad for him. He’d deal with it until he brought back my wife. I was not going to let him have that option of controlling me like a toddler.
“Well, that isn’t going be happening,” I stated.
“It is,” he said, his voice turning into the demanding mobster that I knew him to be. “You will listen, and you will obey my orders.”
“Or what?” I laughed, not afraid of this man.
“Then I’ll make damn sure that your wife never does return to you. I’m sure with time, she’d rethink her actions. But I can certainly make sure that she doesn’t,” he threatened.
Oh? He thought he could just threaten me like that? Really? Did my father think he had that much power over one person that had nothing to bargain with?
