Chapter Two

Luc

A s always, this meal is tedious and boring as fuck. Thankfully, my father is trying to impress this douche, so he's keeping all snide comments and shit to himself, or at least more so than he usually would. I hate these things so fucking much, and I can't even text the guys to ease the boredom because my mother has a strict no phones at the dinner table rule. I don't know why because it's not like they're even talking to me.

Not that I want them to, as boring as it is just sitting here, the food is awesome thanks to the chefs, and I'd much rather that I was being ignored than having to engage in conversation all the time. My mother, now her behavior I could really do without witnessing. She's flirting shamelessly with the guy my father brought to dinner; I don't even know his name; I didn't care to listen when he introduced us. My father doesn't seem to be bothered by it in the slightest, but then again, there's no love lost between them, and I highly doubt that they ever loved each other. I'm pretty sure their marriage is one of convenience, connections, and money.

I would have thought that the guy's wife would be at least a little annoyed by my mother's flirting, but she's behaving exactly the same way and flirting with my father, who is lapping it up like he's a fucking puppy; it's pretty disgusting.

Unfortunately, it's not exactly surprising behavior for them; my parents have certainly never behaved like they've loved each other while I've been alive. They're roommates, if that, more like mere acquaintances who put on a good show of being in a loving relationship and having the perfect family every now and then.

The longer I sit there, listening to them flirt with each other and talk like I'm not here, the more evident it becomes that there's something more than a simple business meal going on. They're trying to speak in code, and the guy doesn't look like someone that my father usually does business with; for one, he's wearing a six-figure watch. I haven't met a single one of my father's business associates who can afford to have that kind of money on their wrists.

"I hope that you've healed up from your car accident?" the guy asks, somewhat unexpectedly since it's been months since his so-called accident, which is what he claimed happened when, in reality, I snapped and returned the favor for all the beatings that he'd given me over the years.

I stare at my father, meeting his eyes, my lips tilting up into the slightest smile. It's obvious enough that his expression darkens, his jaw clenching tightly, but I doubt anyone else at the table is paying enough attention to me to notice that I'm smiling.

My father clears his throat, "Ah, yes. I've healed up nicely, thank you."

"Good," the guy replies, "the last thing we need is for you to become indisposed now."

There's an unmistakable warning in the guy's tone, and I make sure that I don't let my knowledge of it show in my expression or body language. My father, however, stiffens and nods sharply once.

He picks up his drink and takes a huge gulp of it before he replies stiffly, "Of course not. You can count on me."

"Good."

The meal lasts for hours, but over that time, I get more and more sure that there is something else going on here, something that points to the more illegal shit that my father likes to dabble in. Eventually, they all get up from the table and separate, the women going into the formal front room and the men heading to my father's office.

Now would usually be the time when I make my escape, either by shutting myself in my room, or texting Trick or one of the guys to come and get me and escaping to their houses for the rest of the night, but this time, I am far too curious. I've spent a good portion of time gathering evidence about my father's more illegal dealings and contacts, just in case we need the information for some reason, or for when I can turn him in and not risk being lost in the system and sent away from the guys.

Trick's mom would take me in a heartbeat, but I'm not sure whether I'd be allowed to stay in this area if the reason that I needed somewhere to stay was that my dad was into some epically dodgy shit. I have no idea how it all works, but the guys and I quickly decided that it wasn't worth the risk, and since we weren't exactly doing legal shit ourselves, it might be worth sitting on the information instead.

Of course, the majority of the illegal shit that we do is in order to help someone else, to ensure their safety, or to get them out of situations that they didn't mean to get themselves into in the first place. The illegal shit that my father is into is the opposite, he's supplying people with the means to hurt others, either by drugs or weapons, and I'm beginning to suspect that this guy that is currently in our house is someone that he's hoping will use his services to do one of the two.

I've always questioned why he risks bringing people like this, people who are so obviously dangerous to our house, the place he lives, and where his family lives. At first, I used to think it was because he was really that stupid and prideful that he believed that no one would dare mess with him, and by proxy, my mother and me. However, I quickly came to realize that's not the case at all, and in actual fact, he just doesn't care. He doesn't care if our house gets raided by them. He doesn't care if we're safe.

In fact, I am a thousand percent sure that if it came down to it, he would throw my mother, or me, to whoever was coming for him so that he could save his own ass; there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that is how he would behave. My mother would then, in turn, sacrifice me; that's just how our family, if you can even call it that, works.

My father allows dangerous people into our home, in our tiny little town, because not only does it project to his potential clients that he is confident and powerful enough to risk them knowing where he lives, but he would also be completely okay with harm coming to me or my mother. I am certain that he's got plans and escape routes in place for himself so that if something were to happen and someone tried to come after my father for not following through on his end of the deal or something else along those lines, he could get out of it with absolutely no issues. Especially since my mother and I would be left floundering, or at least he assumes that we would be.

I have my own escape plan; I have my own safety measures put in place that would mean that I can get out of a situation like that because I'd be extremely surprised if it didn't happen one day, most likely sooner rather than later.

Unlike my father though, I also know how to get my mom out, and I am more capable of protecting us both should the situation arise, more capable than anyone my age should be and I also come with backup. The guys would be able to get here quickly, and I'm confident enough in my skills that I know that I'd be able to hold off two or maybe three people on my own until they arrived.

Of course, I've planned to help my mother, but there's always a small chance that she either escapes with my father or gets out by herself. My mother is a runner, not in the exercise sense but in the way that she would flee without a second thought for me, and I know that. Maybe that means that I shouldn't bother to include her in my plans should we need to defend or leave the house quickly and under duress, but I can't allow myself to sink to my father's level, I won't. I'm better than that, and that means that even if my mom runs off and leaves me at the mercy of whoever the fuck has invaded our home, and even if she escapes with my dad, I won't do the same to her, and I will ensure that she's safe.

My father, though? If his plans didn't work out and he was caught, well, he can fucking rot, he's a vile human being, and I'm not just saying that because of what he's done to me. There are many reasons that back up that statement.