Wicked Lies Boys Tell - Page 72

“I don’t suppose you plan on giving the car or the boy back,” Dad deadpans.

“Nope.” I grit my teeth in frustration. How the hell did he find me anyway? “Leave, Dad.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. When he tosses them at Penn, I snatch them in the air before they hit him in the chest. Penn’s still all beat to hell.

“Those are my Jeep keys,” Penn says when I open my hand, handing them to him.

“I bought it from Jason.”

Penn tenses from beside me. “What do you want from us?”

Dad flashes us his boardroom smile. “It’s a peace offering.”

Peace? With my dad? Since when?

Penn squeezes my hand. “Why the sudden change of heart?” he asks Dad. “A few days ago you banished your own son from your life.”

Dad frowns, losing the fake smile. “I lost my cool.”

“My dad lost his cool too,” Penn says in a cold tone.

“Your dad’s an asshole,” Dad bites out.

“So is mine.” I smirk.

Ignoring my remark, he studies Penn. “Listen, I’m not going to come in here preaching about how I’m some father of the year type. We can cut through all the shit, because we all know I’m not.”

Penn and I nod in agreement.

“But just because I make poor decisions regarding my son, doesn’t mean he’s not still my son.”

I’m about to tell him to get the fuck out when Penn calms me with another squeeze to my hand. “You want something from us. Out with it, Bryan.”

Dad laughs. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, McAlister. Your ability to see through the bullshit and face off with the likes of me.”

I roll my eyes. I’m fucking hungry and as much as I love Penn, the last thing I want to do is sit here while my dad blows smoke up his ass.

“Your dad is a wreck,” Dad tells Penn. “He’s not sad. He’s afraid. You really had the balls to press charges. I’m pretty impressed, kid.”

“He kicked the shit out of me,” Penn growls.

“For the last fucking time,” I bite out. “I made sure of that.”

Dad’s eyes cut to mine and they glimmer briefly with pride. The little boy inside of me perks up. Since when do I care about making my dad proud?

“That would explain why he’s such a mess.” Dad snorts. “He hired personal security. They sit outside his house like he’s the goddamn president.”

“He better watch his back,” I warn.

“That’s what I thought,” Dad says. “Let me guess. Jason beat up Penn here and you threatened to blow up his house or something? Am I close?”

More like gut him like a fucking pig. But close enough.

“Yep.”

“Good boy.” Dad folds his arms over his chest. “Well, now that we have that asshole by the nuts, I’d love to twist them a little further. I’ve always enjoyed watching him squirm.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I demand, punctuating each word.

“I want an intern,” Dad says. When I tense, he shakes his head before pointing at Penn. “I want Jason McAlister’s son as my intern.”

“No,” I bark out.

“You didn’t even let me finish.” Dad smirks. “As long as Penn is affiliated with my company, McAlister will get off my fucking back. I spend a good ten percent of my profits each year playing defense against his sly attacks to drive me out of this town. It’s getting old, and until now, I didn’t have anything on him. Now, I do. He’s in no position to push right now being that Penn filed a restraining order and pressed charges. If we got a good lawyer, we could even prove his assault was because his son is gay. In many cases, a misdemeanor for assault could be elevated to a felony for a hate crime. The last thing McAlister wants is a felony on his precious reputation.”

“Did your buddies at the station rat us out?” I grumble, hating that he has information we thought was private.

“I have means,” Dad says simply. “You know this.”

“We’re not doing any deals, Devil,” I tell him, annoyed as fuck over this whole conversation.

“I’m not done wheelin’ and dealin’, son.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Dad cuts me off with his words.

“I’ll pay for Penn’s college education as long as he stays on as an intern with me. Paid intern,” he amends.

Penn jerks his head over to look up at me. The hope his dad squashed has once again risen to the surface. His thumb swipes across my hand in a gentle, almost pleading way.

“You’d work with him?” I ask in astonishment. I’d die before I ever worked with that asshole. But Penn’s not me. And it’s not my education on the line.

“If you were okay with it,” he says, brows furling.

Leaning forward, I brush my lips across his ear. “If you can deal with my dad from eight to five and get your college paid for, then go for it. I’ve got your back.”

Tags: K. Webster Romance
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