Yeah, that’s been the whole saga.
My father and his company. How he built it and how he wants me to run it. How he won’t let me escape it. How he’ll do anything to force me to take the reins.
Although in his defense, he did ask me nicely.
In my senior year, he asked me to not apply for a soccer scholarship. Repeatedly. He asked me to quit the team. Repeatedly. And when I didn’t listen, because I was such a shithead who hated his daddy, he gave me an ultimatum the night before the championship game.
He told me that if I showed up to play the next day, he’d make my life very difficult. He would hate that, but he’d do it.
Not only that, he even showed up at the game. Maybe to intimidate me I think.
So to fuck with him, I made sure that I won. Right in front of his eyes.
And well, he delivered on the promise.
He did make my life difficult. So I really have no reason to be angry or frustrated because I brought this upon myself.
But I am angry and frustrated.
I am fucking furious, not because he fucked with me, but because in the process of fucking with me, he fucked with someone else too.
He fucked with her.
The girl whose heart I broke and who stole my Mustang.
***
Tempest calls me as soon as I get into the car after my disastrous meeting with my dad. I’m about to head to the hotel I’m staying at, because I can’t stand staying at this house, but I go alert.
“Pest, you okay? W —”
She doesn’t let me speak. “Did you go?”
“What?”
“Did you?” she demands.
I look at the time on the dashboard.
It’s after 2AM and she sounds wide awake. She sounds like she never went to sleep. “What the — Are you okay? Where are you?”
“Okay, first of all, I’m fine. I’m in my dorm room of course, watching Netflix. You don’t have to sound so freaked out and go into your Big Brother Mode. And second of all, did you go or not?”
I sigh and sit back.
Her calls in the middle of the night aren’t a rarity. Plus to be fair, her calls don’t always mean bad news.
Sometimes my sister just calls because she can’t sleep.
Because she just saw a movie or a show that she really wants to talk about and she chooses me because apparently, I’m her BFF. I think it’s best friend forever or something fucked up like that.
But I’m also her brother, her big brother.
So obviously, I’m going to freak the fuck out if I get a call from her at an odd time.
“Pest, what have I told you about calling in the middle of the night? When it’s not an emergency.”
She mumbles, “You said to not do it.”
“Yes. And why is that?”
“Because it freaks you out.”
“Correct. So what do we do when we get the urge to call Reed? Just for the fuck of it.”
She sighs sharply. “We stop ourselves and we try to go to sleep.”
“Good.”
“Fuck you, Reed. You don’t have to be such an asshole. And just so you know, this is an emergency.”
My lips twitch as I rest my elbow on the window and put my head back against the seat. “What is it?”
“Did you go or not?”
“Did I go where?”
“You know where. Did you go to the bar or not, Reed?”
“No.”
She gasps. “You’re lying. You’re lying to me. To your own sister.”
I close my eyes and bang my head against the seat a few times. “How the fuck do you know I’m lying?”
“Because I saw your picture,” she explains. “One of your stupid girlfriends posted a picture of you on her Insta. With location. Ballad of the Bards. You can’t outrun social media, bro.”
Fucking Insta.
It’s how half the time my sister knows what I’m up to. I usually tell people to keep it on the down low. That I don’t want the whole world to know what I’m doing. But apparently, it’s a big ask.
“Well if you already know, then why are you asking?” I say to Pest.
“Because I was giving you a chance to tell me everything on your own.”
“There’s nothing —”
“Did you see her?” she asks excitedly and I clench my jaw. “Tell me you saw her. Please. I know she was there. She goes every Friday.”
Yeah, she does.
Turns out, she climbs over the fence to go to this shady bar in a shady part of town with her friends.
Every Friday.
When Pest first told me about it, a couple of years ago, I wanted to drive down from New York. I wanted to scale that fence myself, find her in her dorm room and shake some sense into her.
I’ve even thought about ratting her out to her brothers.
A million times, actually.
Because what the hell is she thinking? Sneaking out to a bar in the middle of the night. Dancing with drunks. Who I’ve always been pretty sure watch her.