My own father.
But I’m not that person.I’m not that fucking person, and God, I wish I was.
I didn’t come here for a father. I didn’t come here to make up for lost time.
"My whole life, I wondered about you. I wondered who my father was and if he would be proud of me. If he would recognize me when I went pro and if I would finally be good enough for him to want a relationship with me. If he would come and watch my games. Teach me how to throw a ball. Teach me how to shave. Help me get over my first heartbreak.” My eyes flick to Cassandra briefly as she continues to wipe tears off her cheeks.
"But now? Now, the only thing in life I want from you is to stay the hell away from me.” Max’s eyes close, a tear staining his cheek, his lower lip trembling, but a noise from upstairs demands my attention and Max’s eyes fling open.
A noise from directly above where we’re standing.
Austin’s old bedroom.
Something takes over me. Like my life is flashing before my eyes and every single thing Austin ever did to me is at the forefront of my mind.
My shoulder injury being the most raw.
And that’s why I allow my rage to lead the way; to will my body to move in ways it hasn’t moved since the accident.
Max is hot on my heels as I bolt up the stairs toward Austin’s bedroom, but it’s no use. I’m younger than him, faster, too. The door is locked, an eerie silence coming from behind it.
I know he’s there, hiding away like the fucking coward that he is.
The coward he always has been.
Slamming the side of my body against his door, it breaks off its hinges with the first connection, pain shooting through my arm in every direction.
I almost hesitate, but the ache is a reminder of what he did to me.
"What do you want, Wingrove?” he slurs, rolling his eyes when he sees me.
Charging toward him, my hand fits perfectly around his throat as I pin him to the wall.
His eyes are glossy, puffy and red. The smell of alcohol is leaking through his pores.
"Hey baby,” he says, sending a wink over my shoulder, and I know he’s talking to Cassandra, just to taunt me.
Moving my fingers toward his jaw, I squeeze tighter, forcing his gaze on mine.
"Don’t you dare fucking talk to her,” I spit, tightening my grip. Rage isn’t the right word to describe how I feel right now.I’m well and truly past that point. "You took everything from me.” He doesn’t put up a fight, our spectators standing idly by. "You took everything from me and for what? Because of your daddy issues? We could have been brothers, Austin, but you took the fucking coward’s way out.” I loosen my grip as he brings his hand to his jaw to massage out the pain.
"Look around, Wingrove. I have nothing left. Everything I had is gone. My lies caught up with me.” He chuckles as if it's the most ridiculous thing, gesturing his arms out for me to look at our surroundings. His floor is covered in empty bottles of whisky, dirty clothes, and takeout wrappers. It looks like he’s been cooped up here for months, but Cassandra saw him in California last week.
"You expect me to feelsorryfor you?” I ask.
"Alison left me. She’s suing for full custody. Cassie left me. I lost my job. I have nothing left. Do your worst, Wingrove.Because I promise you, whatever you do to me right now will be no worse than what I’ve done to myself already.”
He’s right.
He’s made his bed, and he is well and truly laying in it. He has no one to blame but himself.
"I didn’t leave you, Austin. But I wish I did a long time ago.” Cassandra’s voice does something to me. Brings me back to life, forcing me to see sense. The urge I felt to destroy him, to hurt him how he hurt me, has vanished.
Now, all I feel for this man is pity.
I’m embarrassedforhim and the pathetic life that he’s created for himself.
"You deserve nothing less,” I repeat his words back to him, leaving his room and never looking back.
