Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

THE MOMENT HE stepped inside, he knew it was a mistake.

The stark, grey walls seemed to close in on him as he followed the officer down the narrow hallway, and he broke out into a sweat despite the bitter temperature. When a wave of revulsion ran through him, he reached out to steady himself, taking a shaky breath. The air was stale, the paint under his fingers peeling, and he briefly thought about turning around and getting the hell out of there. The glaring eyes of the guard who turned around when he stopped, however, changed his mind.

“There a problem?” his voice boomed, echoing off the naked tile.

Evan ran his hand over his face and shook his head, pushing off the wall.

The intimidating figure ahead watched him for another beat before heading back down the hall, Evan steeling himself as he trailed behind. He took another deep breath and shook off the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Home sweet home.Well, his father’s anyway.

The Federal Correctional Institute in Otisville was more familiar to him than the house he’d grown up in. He’d been going there since he was a boy.

As the officer handed him the clipboard to sign in, Evan felt the slight moment of pride he’d had at securing the job earlier change to one of disillusion.

Who was he kidding? No matter how much money he made or what kind of car he drove, he would still be his father’s son.

“You can wait through there.” The guard gestured to the large, rectangular room with several chairs and tables set up. “They’ll be out shortly.”

Evan walked over to the far back corner, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible, and took a seat facing the secured door his father would come through. Fuck, he hated this place. Whatever had possessed him to make the hour-and-a-half drive had left as soon as he’d entered the steel front doors.

He watched as more visitors streamed through the entrance he’d come from, the looks on their faces as grim as his own. Now that he was here, he wanted this shit over and done with. Glancing at his watch, he impatiently tapped his foot on the ground, hating that he was fucking anxious.

It wasn’t until he heard the loud, “There’s my boy!” that he realized his father was being escorted over to him. It always amazed him that, even dressed in an orange jumpsuit, the man managed to look like a million dollars. A million of someone else’s money.

He hadn’t changed much in the months since he’d last seen him. Same head full of silver hair, same confident swagger, as though he were working a boardroom of executives instead of the visiting room at an Otisville prison. It looked like he’d lost a bit of weight off his tall frame, but it didn’t diminish his presence; if anything, it made him look more like the cunning figure he was.

Evan stood as he came closer, and when his father opened his arms as if he expected him to step forward for a hug, he remained exactly where he was. His old man, though, had always been one to put on a good front, so instead of letting Evan’s stance deter him, he continued on and brought him in close before whispering in his ear, “You came all this way. At least act like you’re fucking happy to see me.”

Despite uncaring of what others thought, Evan let him put on his show, knowing that it was the quickest way to be released. When he was finally let go, he watched his father as he looked around at the other occupants in the room. Just as Evan had suspected, he was more concerned with their reactions than his.

He sat down and waited for his father to do the same, and when they were finally eye to eye, the charming bastard had the nerve to smile at him.

“About time you came back around. What’s it been? Eight months?”

“Nine.”

“That’s right.” His father’s shrewd eyes ran over him. “You look like shit, son. About the same as the last time I saw you.”

Evan’s chair scraped the tile as he stood up, intending to leave.

“Oh come on. No need to be so sensitive. Sit down.”

With his hand hesitating on the back of the chair, Evan eyed him.

“Give your old man a break. Humor me for the next few minutes.”

“I’m not here to play your games.”

“Then why are you here? What brings you to my illustrious dwelling?”

After sitting back in his chair, Evan crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay, how about I start since you seem...angry about something.”

“About something? Gee…” He paused and looked at their surroundings before pinning him with an irritated look. “I wonder what that could be.”

His father leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his leg. “As you can see, the conditions are still luxurious. I was promoted to electrical duty instead of the kitchen, which accounts for my fine physique,” he said, patting his firm stomach. “Apparently, I’m good with my hands but perhaps not as good as you.” He winked, and Evan’s stomach rolled.

“Cut the shit, would you?”

“Well, speak, Ev, and I’ll stop.”

Evan reluctantly shifted forward in his seat and uncrossed his arms, placing them on the table in front of him. “I actually came up here to tell you I got a job today.”

His father seemed to perk up at that news. “It’s about damn time. So which is it? L&P?”

“No.”

“Reiner-Wallace?”

Evan shook his head. “No.”

His father’s brow furrowed. “But still in finance, right?Baumgard?”

“I decided to go with Kelman Corporations.”

A few beats went by as his father stared at him before the stunned look on his face turned perplexed and he started to laugh.

“Holy shit. For a second there, I thought you were serious,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“I am serious.”

“No,” he said, gaping at Evan. “No, you can’t be serious. Kelman Corporations? As in Bill Kelman? Why?”

Feeling defensive, Evan straightened in his chair and glared at his father. “Because that’s who I chose.”

“Oh come on. No one would choose to work for Bill ‘Gimp Leg’ Kelman.”

“Well, I did.”

“Hmm.”

Evan felt his skin prickle at the once-over he was given. One thing about the man was that he had an uncanny way of reading a person. It’s what had made him one of the most successful financial managers in the world—and the most notorious.

“I don’t think you chose him at all.”

“Excuse me?”

His father leaned in, uncrossing his legs and steepling his hands on the table. “I think that, after you fucked your way through Manhattan, you had no other option but Kelman Corporations.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do,” he said matter-of-factly. “You come in here dressed the part. You have the suit, you’ve styled the hair, and I’m sure the car you have parked outside is nice and shiny. But that’s just a façade, isn’t it, Evan? The bags under your eyes, the look inside them... Boy, you are more strung out than I’ve ever seen. Don’t try to hide it.”

“For your fucking information, his ‘little’ business represents several Fortune 500 companies—”

“His company represents the bottom of the barrel, and you know it,” his father interrupted.

“You know, that’s funny coming from you, seeing as you’re the epitome of the bottom of a fucking barrel.”

A sly smile slowly crossed his father’s face. “And your mother? What did she have to say about this wonderfulnews?”

Evan shifted uncomfortably in his seat before answering. “She was transferred down to a facility in North Carolina. I haven’t gotten a chance to see her yet.”

“Well, I think you should. I’m sure she’d love to see how her son’s gone soft.”

“I haven’t gone soft.”

“Well, let’s hope for Michele’s sake that’s the truth. What does she think about all this?”

Evan felt his blood pressure begin to rise as he sat there being grilled by his inmate father. Why he always felt inferior to him was beyond his comprehension when it was quite obvious that his father was the one who should feel the shame.

“I’m not with her anymore.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Did you have a falling out? Into someone else’s bed?”

“You know, after the public humiliation we all suffered at your expense and the twenty-two yearsyou’ve spent in here, you think you’d be a little less judgmental.”

His father’s sharp eyes narrowed on him. “I think you know better than most that people never really change.”

“That’s what Gramps used to say about you.”

“Probably the only thing that crazy bastard was right about.”

Becoming frustrated, Evan bit back the caustic remark he wanted to say and instead asked, “Why do you have to talk about them like that? They stepped in where you and Mom failed. Rather spectacularly, I might add.”

His father snorted. “If, by spectacularly, you mean broke as a joke and raising an addict—”

“Enough!” Evan slammed his hands on the table, causing the conversations around them to cease. “Enough already.”

“Keep your voice down,” his father hissed.

“In the ten minutes I’ve wasted with you, you’ve insulted me, you’ve insulted my job, and you’ve insulted the only people in the world who gave a fuck about me.”

His father looked up at him and gestured to the seat. “Son—”

“Stop calling me that.” Evan could feel his hands shaking and balled them into tight fists, refusing to let the man see any sign of weakness. “You gave up that right a long time ago.”

He cocked his head. “Then why are you here?”

Because I’m a sucker for a good screwing.

“You know what? I have no fucking idea. I’m done.”

“How long will you stay away this time? Months? Years?”

“How long do you have left in here?”

“Twenty if I’m a good boy.”

“That long.”

“Rockwell!” the guard called from the door. “Time’s up.”

As the sound of his former name echoed throughout the room, Evan watched his father stand but found that he had nothing left to say.

“I’ll see you in a few months, Evan,” he said, smoothing his shirt down as if it were a custom-made Charvet instead of cheap prison uniform. Then he pinned him with a hardened stare. “You never could stay away.”

He said nothing as his father walked farther away from him, but he did make a promise to himself that, this time when he left, he would not come back.

As he walked out of the facility and over to his car, he noticed the way the parking lot lights shone off the polished exterior and thought about what his father had said. Getting inside, he settled into the comfy seats of his black Range Rover and turned over the ignition before lowering the windows.

He finally felt like he could fucking breathe again.

Christ, that man had a way of infuriating him. It’d been so long since he’d seen him last that he’d forgotten how much he disliked him. Whether that was because he hated the person his father was or the fact that he was just like him, he didn’t want to think about. In some ways, he felt like he was constantly seeking the approval of that man, which, considering the circumstances, seemed ridiculous.

He didn’t need his approval—he was a grown-ass man for fuck’s sake.

What he needed was to remind himself of the world he belonged in. The one he was going to fight his way back into and rise to the top of once more.

He was Evan James, no longer the Evan Rockwell who lived in his father’s shadow of disgrace, and this time, he’d do things on his own terms.