Hollywood on Tap (Sweet Salvation Brewery 2)

He turned his head. A man stood on the opposite side of the room in a God–awful tiger T–shirt and six–hundred–dollar jeans. He looked familiar.

“Who—” Sean started, then the first hint of Old Spice hit him. “Get the fuck out.”

Hartley Duvin smiled through clenched teeth. “Now is that any way to great your father and manager?”

Instead of the looming, larger–than–life man of horrible rages, his father appeared to be just another average Joe. Thin. Balding. More than a little worn around the edges, but an underlying edge of cruelty remained.

Sean’s past rushed over him in a tidal wave of anger and frustration. It overwhelmed the dull ache in his injured arm and the throbbing making his vision blurry. “You have no right to call yourself my father.”

“You know how I feel about ugly talk, Sean,” his old man growled, as if he still had the power to force Sean into submission. He’d lost that ability the day Sean’s grandmother had died, and the old man didn’t have anything to hold over his son’s head anymore. “There’s an entire media circus set up outside the hospital doors waiting to hear what it’s like to finally see my long–lost son, who just happened to foil a criminal plot. Just like in one of your films. I fully expect a spike in demand for your old movies and memorabilia. Of course, I’ll get me a cut of the profits, since I was your manager at the time of their release.”

Sean sank back against the thin hospital pillow. It made sense. He had never been anything but a breathing paycheck to his father. A means to his own little slice of celebrity. “Crowley told you where I was?”

The tabloid reporter and his father were like two peas in a pod when it came to exploitation.

“Yes, we’ve become friends over the years. He called me two days ago, and I came all the way across the country to this godforsaken town as soon as I could.”

Sean didn’t doubt his dad would travel the world three times over if the payday was right. “What will it take to get you to leave?”

“You on the plane right next to me, with everything timed for our arrival at L.A.X. for full paparazzi effect.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening. Ever.”

His dad responded without hesitating. “It will or else that small–town girl of yours will find herself paying for your stubbornness.”

Sean sat up so fast his head felt as if were going to roll off his neck. “What did you do?”

“Nothing really. Not yet anyway.” That old mean–as–sin glint that had always made Sean’s blood run cold sparkled in his father’s eyes. “Of course, I did break it to her that you were made for bigger things than just some penny–ante brewery. I already have several scripts for you to take a look at.”

Sean’s vision blackened with anger. He was up and out of the hospital bed in a heartbeat. Grabbing his father by the collar, he pulled him close and saw something he never had before.

Fear in his father’s eyes.

“You don’t touch Natalie, the brewery, or anyone in this town. You do and I’ll hunt you down like a dog. The authorities will never find what’s left of you after I get done.”

His old man squirmed in his grasp, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Is that how you learned to treat your betters in this shithole little town?”

Sean slammed his father against the wall, grabbing his throat and lifting until the old man’s toes barely touched the floor. He leaned in close, not wanting his father to miss a single fucking word of what he was going to say. “I learned a helluva lot more here in Salvation than I ever did from you. I learned how to treat people. I learned that not everyone is just in it for themselves. I learned how to be a man.”

“That’s fucking touching.” Hartley spit out the words as the tips of his toes tapped the floor, no doubt looking for a high spot to relieve the pressure on his neck. “I might cry.”

Something inside Sean snapped. All the rage he’d built up over a lifetime exploded to the surface and he pressed his hand against the old man’s Adam’s apple. A little extra pressure—one solid push—and the bones would snap. His father’s eyes bulged and his face turned red.

Power. Control. Fury. They ran through Sean’s blood like a runaway train and he relished the frightened look in his father’s watering eyes. It would be easy to end it all here. Like this.

He increased the pressure just enough so his father danced on the edge of life and death. How many times had their roles been reversed and his father had him pinned to a wall, wondering if this was it? Too many to count.

Unbridled hatred. That was the lesson his father had passed down to his son, and it wasn’t until this moment that Sean realized he’d learned it so well.

“Salvation taught me a lot, but it was Natalie that showed me the most important thing of all—the kind of person I want to be. And that person is not you.” He let go. His father dropped to the ground, sputtering, sucking in great lungsful of air. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t ever come back.”

Like cowards everywhere, his father wilted when confronted. He scurried to the door and paused. “You’ll regret this.”

“No. I won’t.” Sean sat back down on the bed, but didn’t relax until the door swished shut.

And to think he’d been running for years from that sad parody of a father. What a fucking waste of time and energy. Time to start putting all that to better use. He picked up the phone and called the brewery. He needed to talk to Natalie, and knowing her, she was five points into a thirty–point plan for cleaning up the mess from last night.

/> “Sweet Salvation Brewery,” Hailey’s cheerful voice chirped.