Big Bad Boss Daddy (The Forbidden Fun)

Yet, I wanted to talk with her and to hear her opinion on the manuscript. I wanted to look at that pretty face over a meal, and then make her laugh so that her chocolate eyes danced. I was just about to get up and see what she was doing when suddenly, my phone rang. I looked down and saw it was my mom.

“Fuck,” I muttered, but I picked up. “Hi Mom, how’s it going?”

The voice on the other side was anything but maternal. It was sibilant yet raspy at once, damaged from years of chain smoking.

“I knew you’d pick up if you thought it was your mother.” I froze before clenching my teeth and steadying my pulse. The sound of this monster will always be with me no matter how hard I try to avoid him, and now hearing him on the line was enough to make the adrenaline pump in my veins.

“You’re not going to say anything, boy?” he cackled. Disgust ran through my veins, and I immediately snapped back.

“You sound good for someone who has cancer,” I retorted. “I see the Grim Reaper hasn’t come yet.”

My father just cackles again.

“Yeah, the doctors say it’s bad but there’s still hope. We’ll see, though. Father Time comes for us all.”

I grimaced. “Does Mom know what you’re doing right now?”

I could almost hear Paul’s shrug. “She’ll understand. Carol is a very forgiving woman, bless her heart. I’m sure she won’t mind.” He’s always been like this: doing whatever he fucking wanted and not giving a damn about the consequences, especially when it came to my mother.

“So why are you calling?” I ask through gritted teeth.

My father lets out a hacking cough for a moment.

“Can’t you tell? It’s because I missed you, sonny boy.” I could hear the sarcasm in his voice. My father loves to joke around, especially at someone else’s expense.

“Cut to the chase, Paul. Why the fuck are you bothering me?”

He pauses for a moment.

“I wanted to know when you’re coming to see me. I don’t have much time left, boy.”

My jaw is so tight now that it aches. “I’ll come when I can. I’m busy right now.”

My father merely sighed.

“Look, Beauregard,” he said, softening his voice a little. “Facing the door of death really makes a man think about a lot of things. I know I wasn’t the best father to you. Hell, I wasn’t even a mediocre father figure. I was damn near terrible. But you know, a man has regrets as he ages.” I grimaced. Where was this coming from? Was it even my father saying these words, seeing that Paul is a heartless bastard? But he continued.

“I also know that I’ll never be able to make up for the damage I inflicted on you, both physically and mentally. I’m also in no position to ask you to do anything for me. So, all I’ll say is to do this for your mother. Come and see an old man before he dies.”

I was livid. Of course, Paul was going to put this on my mother. He was going to yank at my heartstrings by pulling Carol into this conversation.

“I’ll think about it,” I snarl, knowing full well that I’ll never go to see that bastard. My dad merely sniffs and continues.

“Let’s not involve Carol in this if we don’t have to, okay?” he says casually. The rage burns in my chest.

“You’re the one who brought her up,” I hiss again, but my father merely continues, ignoring me.

“I just wanted to get in contact in case you were having doubts. The last thing I want is for my remaining son to think a certain way about me without hearing my side of the story before I die. But now you know my motives, so goodbye, Bo. Take care of yourself, hear?”

Then with a click he’s gone, and I’m left with static. Of course that bastard hung up before I could get a word in because the fact is that Paul doesn’t want to listen to anyone’s opinion but his own. In his eyes, he’s blameless and everyone else is an idiot, including his wife and remaining son. I hurl the phone against the wall in my fury, and it smashes against the wall with a satisfying crack before tumbling to the carpet. Fuck. Now I might have to get a new cell.

Pissed as all hell, I get up and yank the door open before stalking outside. Haley’s there, kneeling in front of the cabinet below the kitchen sink, and she looks over at me.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She must have heard something through the door. Probably my yells and screams, or my phone breaking. But there’s something off in her expression, and she seems skittish.

“Everything’s fine,” I growl.

The pretty girl merely nods and goes back to whatever she’s doing below the sink.