Distorted Love (Dark Intentions Duet 1)

Tonight’s another night, except tonight my father’s home. Once I started running the business and got full control of it all, he left, and I haven’t seen him since. Except now.

“Quinn tells me you hired your friend, Cane.” Father stands tall, not as tall as me now. But his presence is still overpowering nonetheless.

“I did.”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t smart to bring friends into business, Ryken.”

I scoff at his words as I tighten my watch on my wrist. “Kindly do yourself a favor and fuck off, Father.”

His fingers tap on the coffee table where my car keys are located. “I would watch that mouth of yours, son. And tonight, let your friend run the clubs. Tonight, I need you to come with me. You’ve been doing your training still?”

Reaching for my car keys, I pick them up ready to tell him no. But that word’s never great for me.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re coming to meet my clients. They are expecting you.”

Shaking my head. “No. I told you, I don’t want that part of your business.”

His hand slams on the coffee table. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you told me, you ungrateful fucker. I’m dying, Ryken. Someone needs to take over. It’s meant to be you. It’s always meant to be you. I have orchestrated this takeover, I have molded you into me.”

My mouth hangs slack, and I don’t take in anything else. “You’re what?”

“Dying,” he confirms.

I don’t know how to take those words. How am I meant to take such a descriptive word?

Fuck! I thought he was unconquerable. Surely he’s invincible, isn’t he?

“You can’t be,” I say but it makes no sense.

He steps closer to me. Not touching but close enough that if I lifted my hand just a fraction, it would touch him.

“Everything is sorted. I told you. Now you just have to take over what’s mine.” He steps away to the door, stops, and turns back to face me. “You need to come.”

Quinn steps down the stairs, he looks to me then to my father. “Quinn was a gift, he’ll be your closest confidant. Apart from you, he was my best choice.” He walks out the door as Quinn takes the rest of the steps down. He stops not far from me.

“You knew?” I ask, scratching my head, confused.

He nods his head. “Of course, I did. He’s known for over a year now.”

I punch him, straight in the mouth. Fast and sharp. One jab. He doesn’t see it coming, so he can’t stop me. Blood coats the pristine white floors, but Quinn doesn’t say or do anything. Turning, I walk out to the car where my father is waiting.

Quinn holds a shirt to his mouth, following close behind me. My father looks up from his cell to see Quinn bleeding, then looks back down as we get in, not asking any questions. He doesn’t care. I didn’t kill him, so why bother asking questions.

“I see you two have bonded,” is all he says as the car starts to move. I watch as Quinn wipes the blood away, but it doesn’t stop bleeding.

“What do you have?” I ask him.

He places his cell down and slides it into his jacket pocket. “Brain cancer. It’s already at stage four.”

I want to eye roll at him, but I don’t. Instead, I turn to look out the window. Soon I won’t have any parents. My mother’s gone, and next my father.

Isn’t this shit meant to happen when I’m much older?

“How much longer?” I don’t look at him as we come to a stop. I can feel Quinn staring at me, and I don’t bother to look at him either.

“Two months, max.” The car comes to a halt, and I’m the first to get out. Quinn follows, and when I slide my sunglasses on to look at him, his mouth has stopped bleeding, and he stands tall next to me. Then comes my lying, dying father. The men seem to stand straighter as he walks closer to them. Guys with leather vests stand in front of me, weapons concealed but I can see them. You have to know where to look.

Our laws are strong here in Australia, so we have learned how to get around it all. The man standing in the middle, his vest reads ‘President.’ He’s obviously the leader of the group. He looks to me, not the others, just me. His eyes travel the length of me then go to my father. “This your kid?”

Kid? I laugh at his words, his eyes flick back to me.

“You find something funny in that statement, boy?”

“The person standing behind you looks more like a kid.” My voice is rough, I don’t really care if I piss him off. At the moment, I’m ready for another fight. Perhaps this time with someone hitting back.