His Father

“Fuck you,” he hisses.

“Mad…” Tempest whispers, her eyes swimming with tears as she climbs out of bed and reaches for his arm. He shakes her off, gently in comparison to how he handled me.

“Mad, please,” she begs, chasing after him.

Tempest

I’ve never seen him like this and it is killing me. He has to listen. He has to understand.

“Mad!” I cry, following him down the stairs. “Please, please, let me explain.”

“Explain?” He spins to face me, his cheeks red from anger and frustration. “Explain how you’re fucking my dad? My dad!” His hand rips through my hair. “He’s twice your age. He’s a dog. You know this. You said… I never even… How did this fucking happen, Pest? How?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“It’s my fault,” Sargent tries but it only succeeds in making Maddox worse.

“You back the fuck off. You’re vile. She is half your age! You can’t give her anything. You’ve already done everything!” He looks at me now, confusion and rage darkening his aura. He’s so angry and hurt. His eyes are projecting so much anger, heat, and confusion it’s going to break me. “It’s just sex, right? Meaningless, pointless sex between adults, right?”

He wants me to tell him I can end it at any moment, like right now but I can’t find the words. I think about ending it and it hurts. I don’t want to end it. Not even for Maddox, but I will if he asks. He’s my best friend. So badly I want to say yes. I want to tell him that I feel nothing but lust for the man at my back, but it’d be a lie. He shakes his head and looks incredulous when I don’t respond.

“You’ve fallen for his bullshit.” He laughs angrily. “You’ve actually fallen for him.” His eyes narrow on his father. “I told you she puts her heart into things. She’s different. I said that. I fucking said that.”

“Maddox.” I hold onto the bottom of the top I’m wearing for support because I don’t know what to do with my hands. “It’s not a big deal. I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I do.”

“You really fucking don’t, Tempest,” he spits, looking away from me as though he can’t stand to look at me.

I grab his shirt with both hands to stop him from walking away. “I know he’s your dad and it’s probably weird but…”

“Probably weird?” He looks at me now as though I’m crazy which I probably am. “He’s my dad. He’s the biggest whore I know and you’re a fucking idiot if you have feelings for him because he doesn’t return them. He drove my mom to drugs and he’ll fuck you up just the same.”

“Mad…” I breathe but he pushes away and exits the house, slamming the door behind him.

I don’t move until I hear his car peel away, tires screeching, engine revving.

“He’ll come around.” Sargent presses his chest to my back.

I stare at the door a moment longer before I let Sargent pull me away, set me on the bar which is cold against my butt, and make me breakfast which consists of poached eggs and toast.

It tastes amazing but after all of the excitement I don’t have much of an appetite.

“I have work soon,” I say softly, mostly to break the silence. “Would you mind giving me a lift?”

“A lift,” he mimics my accent, or close to it, and smiles softly at me.

He parts my knees and slides me to the edge of the counter where I’m still perched. Then he brings my lips down to his in a deep kiss and hums with it. For a moment I let myself fall under his hypnotizing kiss. Then I pull back and wait for his reply.

“Anything you need,” he murmurs, then kisses me again.

Sargent

She must have called him thirty times on the way to work, she’s devastated. I understand. We were stupid but I don’t regret it. I don’t regret her.

Though what he said, about me driving his mother to drugs cut me deep, straight through my soul. That’s a laceration that won’t be healing any time soon. I loved his mother, I treasured her; I gave her everything she wanted but not everything she needed. I often wonder if I’d just been a different kind of person would she be what she is now?

I often look at Tempest and admire her beauty, her lips that are constantly tipped up with a smile, until now. There’s never been a time that I’ve seen her looking so distraught. I’ve done this to her, I’ve made her feel this way. If I’d stayed away we wouldn’t be here now.

“I’m sorry, Tempest,” I try saying to her when we pull into her work’s parking lot. “He’ll come back.”

“He’s never been so angry at me,” she murmurs, pulling her hand from under mine when I try to comfort her with my touch. “What if he never talks to me again?”