Chapter 4 A Little Blackmail

RHYSAND

Orson Calloway is a fucking liar.

He didn’t forget my release date.

He knew exactly when I was getting out and just didn't want me there while he played house with his new family.

My fist slams into the punching bag in front of me, sweat sliding down my spine and soaking into the waistband of my shorts.

I picture my father’s face taped to the leather…his stern mouth, the always present disappointment in his eyes…and I hit harder until the chain rattles and swings the bag forward.

Unbidden, a face that’s managed to contend with how I feel about my father pops into my head.

My fists slam harder into the bag and it swings wide, nearly hitting me as it bounces back.

His unnaturally pretty face flashes behind my eyes again and it pisses me off how clear it is.

If he had just sat and minded his business, I wouldn't have broken that bottle over his head.

But he just had to fucking butt in, throwing the weakest left hook I'd ever seen at me.

Learning he was gay later on explained that.

A nerve ticks in my tightly clenched jaw the more I think about him.

It shouldn’t bother me that Orson married a freshly divorced woman whose only son was gay.

It was just fucking ironic considering what he’s said those years ago when…

I punch the bag again, my breaths coming out in harsh pants.

God, I wish I could get back at him properly, something other than peeing at his wedding.

I'm not sure that really got my point across.

“Rhysand.”

The voice from my raging thoughts suddenly belts out my name, and my hands still.

“You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon,” I finally say, glancing over my shoulder at him. It really is strange that he's here.

He and his wife left almost two weeks ago, and if I’m not mistaken, they should be gone for at least two more.

Apparently, Orson went all out and booked them a two-month-long Mediterranean cruise.

“Yes.”

“So what are you doing here?” I turn around to face him, unwrapping my gloved hands. “Your gold-digging wife finally realise you’re a piece of shit and not even your money can buy her anymore?”

Anger moves through his face and then he smooths it all away until nothing is left but that cold, blank stare he always wears.

It fucking pissed me off. I wanted him to lose control for once and explode.

“I got you enrolled in Burton College and you’ll be heading there tomorrow.” he finally responds and my heart skips a beat at his words.

Burton College is like a family heirloom that every single Calloway has passed through.

I refuse to be one of them.

Schooling my features into a perfect poker face, I turn away from him and grab my water bottle from the bench. “No. Not interested.”

A beat of silence drifts between us that I briefly wondered if he left, and that’s when he lets out an angry hiss.

“I wasn’t asking, you little ungrateful piece of shit.”

Suddenly, I feel his hands on my neck as he tries to spin me around, but his hands don't find purchase on my slippery skin and just slips off.

I take my time wetting my throat with the water from the bottle and that clearly ignites his fury because he explodes.

“You already disappointed this family enough and now you’re refusing to uphold our legacy? How will you take over the company from me if you don’t go to college?”

Well there goes the fucking explosion.

A harsh bitter laugh rings out of my lungs and the sound is jarring in the tense air. “It’s a good thing I have no plans of inheriting you, Orson. Lucky you, you have a new stepson now. I’m sure he’ll make a fine CEO.”

“Calloway enterprise has been in my direct generation for years, I’ll be damned if you ruin it.” He snaps back at me. “You are going to Burton College whether you like it or not. Or else–”

“Or else what?” I spin back to face, stepping into his space now. “You’ll send me back to the academy?”

Grinning, I spread my arms wide. “Newsflash, dad. I’m an adult now and you can’t make me do shit.”

“You’re right.” he says agreeably and my eyes narrow at him. “You are an adult.”

He pauses and I can see him savoring this moment.

Without being told, I know he’s about to hit me below the belt.

He does.

“How about you start funding the foundation? It’s the least you can do after what you did to your mother.”

I can only stand there and stare at him, while a crack runs down the centre of my heart, deepening the wounds that have never healed since I was twelve.

“You’re not serious.” I choke out.

But the nonchalant shrug of his shoulder tells me he meant every word.

Such a fucking asshole.

“I don’t have the means, Orson.” I force out through gritted teeth. “You know this.”

“You’re an adult. You'll figure it out.” That said, he turns to leave and red explodes behind my lids.

I can’t fucking believe Orson has stooped as low as blackmailing me…using my mother to fucking control me.

I curl my fingers into tight fists, gritting my teeth.

I could call his bluff. No fucking way he’s going to defund my mother’s foundation…right?

Fuck.

As the thought crosses my mind, I know damn well than to trust it.

Back then, I didn’t think he’d really make me go to the academy, but here I fucking am, two years later and I just left that hell hole.

Orson doesn’t make empty threats.

But I can’t let him take away the only way I still feel my mother’s presence on this fucked up planet.

At the same time, if I agree to go to Burton, he’ll have this hold over me forever.

Everytime he wants something from me, he’ll threaten to pull the funding. I’ll never be free of him.

There’s only one way out.

Lungs burning, I curl my hands into even tighter fists at my side so I don’t punch my father in the mouth.

“Fine,” I say aloud, stopping my father at the doorway. “I’ll go to college, but not Burton. I’ll only go to college if they have a good hockey team.”

Slowly, the tall man turns around, eyes as hard as steel. “No, I don’t want you playing hockey. You almost landed in prison the last time you were on ice.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to yell again that what happened on the ice that day isn;t my fault, but it’s not like he’d believe me anyway.

“Look, I’ll go to college. I’ll get a fucking business degree, but only if I can play hockey,” I hold his gaze and the next words I force myself to say is so difficult it feels like chewing through glass. “It’s a win-win for both of us. I get my degree, you get your heir. And during the process, I stay focused on something productive instead of finding new ways to embarrass you. Hockey keeps me out of trouble.”

My sperm donor stares at me for a long moment, his jaw working silently, and then he huffs out an irritated breath and clips.

“Fine. I’ll make the arrangements as soon as possible.”