30. Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

S lamming the door to the study closed, my chest heaves. The constant buzzing of my phone starts in my pocket again. I grab the device and toss it across the desk. Until tonight, I thought there was hope that my men were still with me. That their fascination with Avery was a passing fad. But not after they shut me in the room, held me back from teaching her a lesson. They defend her, protect her, hide her. They've chosen their side. After all these years, after all I've confided in them. Everyone chooses Avery in the end.

The vibrations of my cell quiet, and then start back almost immediately. I kick the sideboard before opening it, grabbing out a bottle of whiskey. I down a hefty amount before dropping into my leather chair and hitting the answer button, putting the call on speaker.

"What?" I growl.

"You'd better try that greeting again, boy," my father threatens. I can hear the clench in his jaw, but he rarely speaks to me without it these days.

"What, sir?" I drawl, mockery dripping from my tone. He huffs and I take another long drink.

"When I call, I expect you to answer. And when your sister is threatened, I expect to hear it from you. Not in passing conversation from Megan." Slamming the drink down, I frown at my phone. Why the hell is my father speaking to Avery's best friend? Then I remember, I don't give a shit.

"She's not my sister," I mutter beneath my breath. I know it will spark another round of the same argument, so I quickly move on. There's only so much I can handle before a headache settles in. "Avery wasn't threatened. She was gifted a pair of damn socks. And trust me, she's got a comfortable little set up here in my house. She's untouchable." Even from me , I keep to myself.

"I'm not surprised you're not taking this seriously. Avery and your mother have been receiving messages from this Mr. XO for years. Any contact needs to be reported back to myself or our PI." A yawn pulls at my mouth, the tiredness I feel settling deep into my soul. I'm so tired with all of this bullshit. Avery is a pampered princess who the media have always been desperate to capture on camera. Of course she received interest from external sources; my mother and father effectively turned her into a hidden, untouchable treasure.

"If you're so concerned about her, why don't you move Avery into your New York penthouse? Or would your little whore have a problem sharing her sugar daddy?" There's a pause on the other end of the phone and I know I've shocked him.

"Wyatt. I'm warning you," the growl comes through the receiver. I prop my feet up on the desk and cross my ankles. I wish he could see me, the king of my own castle. Not the senseless rich boy I'm perceived to be. Information is power. Nixon has his PI, and I have mine. His affair started long before mom was killed. I bet that would rock Avery's perfect image of her perfect father figure.

"I told you I didn't want her here." I repeat like a broken record. Every phone call is the same.

"I also told you, I would cut your cash flow if you don't take care of her," my father quips back. I roll my eyes, swirling the whiskey around its bottle.

A sudden flare of loneliness hits me hard in the chest. Another reminder that no one, not even the Shadowed Souls, really knows me. My bestest friends in the entire world, the only family I really have, also believe I'm motivated by money. More often than not, I'm mulling over ways to disappear after graduation. Leave this life behind and start fresh, somewhere I can be who I really want to be. Respected for my degree, liked for my personality - not the size of my pockets.

The only plus side to being rich is that I've been able to fund Dax's schooling, remove Axel from his toxic mother, give Garrett the stability he craves and help Huxley become emancipated from his parents. They've got everything they need, everything they could want, and I've kept myself guarded in the process. When I eventually vanish overnight, they'll be glad they don't have to deal with my moods anymore. Until then, we're all stuck in this misery together.

"Hire someone else. Send her somewhere else, but she can't stay at Waversea. I'm done being your lackey. You can't control me anymore." I push away from the table and pace the room. It's the first time I've dared to speak to my father this way, but I have no reason to keep up pretenses anymore.

My brothers have chosen Avery. I no longer have a place in their day-to-day lives. My mom is dead. I no longer need to be the model son to parade around on camera while the real favorite child sat safely behind the mansion gates. Maybe I should be thanking her for freeing me from all of my roots, but I'd rather hate her for it. The bitterness tastes better alongside the whiskey pouring down my throat .

"It's the best place for her," my father sighs after a moment. "She's meant to be untouchable there." I pause mid-step and mid-swig at the defeat in his tone. Returning to the phone, I lean on the desk to hang over it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" A few beats pass for Nixon to clear the emotion from his voice.

"I'm passing through a nearby state in the next few days. You're on fall break now, I believe. Meet me for dinner and we'll talk in person." My head falls forward. It's on the tip of my tongue to say no fucking way, but something holds me back. My father is keeping something from me, and I need to know what it is. Secrets fester and destroy. I should know, I have one decaying me from the inside out. Sighing my acceptance, my father perks up. The joys of getting my submission, I suppose. "I'll text you the details. Oh, and Wyatt, don't even think about not bringing Avery with you."

My phone shatters through the window before the line goes dead.