The words poured forth, scalding his throat from where they boiled up in his stomach.
“Nothing I do is ever good enough!” He reached down and tugged at Eleanor’s perfectly pressed pantsuit, jerking her forward on her feet. “My opinion doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how successful my art is. It doesn’t matter that I’m critically acclaimed, it doesn’t matter that I make so much money, I haven’t touched my trust inyears, it doesn’t matter that I’ve raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for charity—none of that is ever fucking good enough. I am never right. I can never live up to your impossible expectations, just because of thisone thing—just because of thisone difference.
“I’ll always be the black mark on your record. I’ll always be the black sheep. I can have the perfect grades, the perfect record, the perfect house, but I can never be the perfect son, can I?”
A scorching-hot tear tumbled down his cheek.
“So,Mother,” he growled, “this is why my answer is no: becauseyou’re so selfish and so shortsighted, you can’t even see how you’re tearing your own son apart.”
The pressure in his chest suddenly wrenched even tighter, and light blue eyes blazed up into his own.
Theo had forgotten about Lloyd. Any focus he could muster had been on his mother.
His uncle had finally struggled to his feet and grabbed Theo’s shirt, twisting his hands at his chest and yanking him straight back into his body.
“Get out of my sister’s face, you piece of shit.”
He ripped his uncle’s hands away from his shirt and shoved.
“And you get your fucking hands off of me, you asshole!”
Lloyd shoved back.
Everything became a blur.
Theo had the vague sensation of hearing his mom speak hurriedly to someone in the background while he struggled with his uncle, trying desperately to grab hold of the smaller man. But he was surprisingly quick for an aging, tenured law professor, and Lloyd ducked and wove better than he should have been able to with as much as he’d had to drink.
He shoved Theo away from the table, blood still streaming down his chin and onto the tweed of his custom three-piece designer suit, now torn open under the arms, and he threw his own punch at Theo’s face. But Theo caught his hand and pushed it away angrily.
“Come on, old man! You think you can take me?” he jeered. “I’ve got thirty years, thirty inches, and far more than thirty pounds on you!”
“You little bastard, you—”
Theo tackled him, wrapping his arms around Lloyd’s waist and pinning him on the ground while the older man struggled. White flashed across his vision, but the landed punch had little effect: he’dsustained far harder hits to the head in lacrosse, and all it did was flood his vision even further with red.
He couldn’t see anything but his uncle anymore. Every shitty comment, every snide remark, every dark look that man had ever shot at Theo suddenly rose to the forefront of his mind, and hatred boiled in his veins. Lloyd had always been like this: odd and bitter, egotistical and opinionated, and if there was one thing he didn’t understand, it was his nephew.
He was a bully.
And said nephew had had enough.
Every hit to Lloyd’s face cracked across Theo’s knuckles like lightning and sent a shudder coursing through his arm, but it was too late now. Every punch was a victory, every glorious blow something that had been lying in wait for years,decadeseven, a lifetime of feeling misunderstood, different, outside, unworthy. Blood splattered across the antique carpet in the dining room, every drop a perfect match to the red Theo so favored in his work, and he painted his knuckles and his uncle’s face with it like an artist.
Until a hand nearly as large as his own grabbed him by the neck and ripped him sharply away from his canvas.
“What the fuckdo you think you’re doing?!” his father roared, pinning Theo’s arms behind his back and dragging him away.
Theo blinked. His uncle was lying still on the floor and his mother was staring at him in stunned silence while tears streamed down her cheeks.
But that only infuriated him more.
“You didn’t even do anything!” he screamed at her as his father dragged him out of the room. “You didn’t take up for me! You didn’t protect me from him! You never really did! You weren’t there for me! YOU NEVER HAVE BEEN!”
“That’s enough!That’s enough, Teddy!” His father’s fingers dug so hard into his skin, he could feel bruises forming. The world blurred as tears flooded his eyes and the colors of the walls melded together while they rushed past him.
Suddenly, they were outside, the cool spring air bracing against Theo’s heated skin.
But it did little to calm him.
