She’s still his as well.
But only for a short amount of time. We’re counting down the days until she’s legally a Constantine, and then I can get her away from this man and out from under his damn thumb.
“Don’t let her get too out of control, son. It’s not a good look for the Lancaster name,” he finally says, like a threat.
“I’m not your son.”
His gaze lifts to mine once more, those icy blue Lancaster eyes freezing me where I stand. “Right. And your father is long dead, correct?”
I don’t talk about my father. Whenever he’s brought up, even in simple conversation such as this, it cuts deep. Reminds me of the pain I went through when we first lost him. When I was an angst-filled teenager who cried and cried, pissed that life was so unfair and that my father was gone.
I’m no longer that sad, depressed teenager who let his emotions spill everywhere, but I’m still pissed about it. And this asshole doesn’t help matters whatsoever.
“Yes, sir. He is.” I decide to give him an ounce of respect, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave. I’m tired. I want to shed this suit and take a shower, wash off the filth of the day and the words from this man who has zero concern for his daughter. Who only uses her as a pawn to gain what he wants.
“Such a shame.” He drains the glass yet again and sets it on the bar cart before he turns to face me. “He was a shit businessman anyway. Your brother has done a far better job of growing Halcyon into what it is today.”
I press my lips together, not wanting to speak my mind and piss this man off.
But it’s as if I can’t help myself. The words come anyway.
“Don’t insult my father.”
“Touchy subject?” The fucker seems amused.
“He’s dead. And anyone who’s dead deserves some respect, especially my father.” I don’t look away. I even contemplate taking him. I’m younger. Taller. Stronger. I could do it. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult the man who raised me.”
He’s quiet as he takes a step toward me. Then another. Until he’s practically in my face, though I’m taller by a few inches. “You think you’re better than me because you’re younger and full of so much come, all a woman has to do is breathe on you and you’re squirting in your shorts? Guess what, you’re not. I’m the one who’s pulling all the strings here, despite what your brother might’ve told you.”
For someone supposedly so refined, he talks crudely.
“Really.” My voice is flat. I’m not in the mood to challenge him.
His gaze grows icier, I swear. “Don’t underestimate me. It won’t end well if you do.”
That was definitely a threat.
We stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. Hell, I’m not even sure he’s breathing.
“I’d advise you to do the same in regards to me,” I finally say, my voice quiet.
His cheeks flush red. He didn’t like my response.
Tough shit.
“I gave her to you,” he says through clenched teeth. “I can take her back, too.”
“I dare you to try.” I smile, as if I’m confident Charlotte would stay with me despite everything.
Though I’m guessing I’m less of a threat than her own damn father, which is sad.
The staredown continues between us until, finally, he’s the first one to give. Reginald tears his gaze from mine with a grunt and turns away from me, striding toward the front door.
“Watch your back, Constantine,” he calls, his voice rough. “It’ll take nothing for me to keep her in line.”
“She’s not yours any longer to keep in line,” I remind him, my voice smug as hell. “Whether you like it or not, she belongs to me.”
The door slams, and I wonder if he heard what I said.
I fucking hope like hell he did.
I grab the bottle of scotch and pour it into my glass until it’s practically sloshing over the top. I drain it in a few swallows, then pour myself another one, the liquor’s heat sliding through my veins, making me warm.
Not soothing my anger one damn bit.
I settle onto the couch and brood over the situation, at one point even considering calling my brother so I can tell him what just happened. Winston would probably want to kick Reginald Lancaster’s ass.
I know I sure as hell want to.
My brother would tell me that would be the wrong thing to do. Even I have enough self-control to know that’s true. I may be an impulsive dick who does everything his mama wants him to, but I can control my urges no matter how strongly they consume me.
And the need to plow my fist into Reginald Lancaster’s arrogant, ugly face is pretty fucking strong.
There’s a soft meow and then Doja Cat jumps onto the couch, joining me. She pads right over to me, settling on my lap, her golden eyes watching expectantly. I give her a scratch beneath the chin and it’s as if a button switched on. All I can hear is her loud purring.
Charlotte loves this cat. Hell, even Jasper does, though I can tell he doesn’t want anyone to know it. I’ve caught him more than once sweet-talking her in the kitchen in the early morning, just before I take off for work. He always goes quiet when I catch him, but I don’t say anything.
Neither does he.
I’ve gotten used to Jasper being around all the time. And Doja. At first, I didn’t give a shit about that cat since we didn’t really grow up with pets when I was a kid. But Doja forced herself on me. Rubbing herself against my legs. Jumping up on me when I sit on the couch. Following me everywhere, gazing at me with those fathomless golden eyes.
What can I say? She’s cute.
I wonder if Jasper watches over Charlotte, too. Maybe that’s why he came with her, like a package deal. Did he protect her from her father? With those bruises I saw, seems like he didn’t do a very good job.
And is he living with us because he’s going to protect her from me?
The thought kills me. I may be a Constantine, and we’re known to be ruthless and unlikable. Even downright cruel and unyielding, but like I’ve always said…
I’m the nicest one of the bunch.
Just don’t push me.
The door suddenly swings open and in walks a smiling Charlotte, her blonde hair piled on top of her head and wearing what looks like a giant black shirt that she’s calling a dress. It’s too short—naturally—and it shows off those sexy-as-hell legs.
I stare at her, my dick twitching. Fuck, this girl. She’s growing on me.
No. It’s more than that. She’s already grown on me. I want to protect her from her shit family. I want to stand by her and give her the strength I know she needs. I enjoy arguing with her. Causing that fire to flash in her eyes when we banter. I like how I feel when I’m with her, as if I have purpose. I’m not just Perry Constantine, the fuckup.
I’m Perry Constantine, the second son who works at Halcyon and will be married to a beautiful woman. A man who’s got it all.
I want to make my family proud.
I want to make my new wife proud too.
Fuck, I’m ridiculous, but it’s all true.
I’ve been avoiding her because I didn’t want to face how she makes me feel, but here I am, bathing in my feelings. Realizing all at once that I’m not just attracted to her, I can actually envision a future with her.