Page 8 of Reluctantly You
I was so busy trying not to stumble while I packed my shit up.
My breathing grows labored and my vision whites out. I inhale deeply, steadying myself, trying to focus on anything other than this. My hands flex on my thighs, and I let out a shaky breath.
With trembling fingers, I dial my dad, wanting to hear it from him. But he doesn’t answer. My call goes straight to voicemail. Of course he won’t answer. I’m sure he has nothing to say to me. Nothing at all.
He’s just as mean as me. He’s who I learned it from.
Shit.
“Dad, it’s me. You should have…you should have told me.” My voice breaks and I regret the voicemail instantly. I’ve shown my weakness, that I care. I shouldn’t have.
Hanging up quickly, I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and start up the car.
I should go and work out. I should get my mind on something else for a short time.
Maybe the gym is the answer.
It has to be. Something has to be.
Or I might not make it.
Chapter Two
Gideon
“Honestly, Gideon,” Shiloh says as he unpacks his boxes, frowning at me with those pretty eyes of his. He’s wearing a pair of light gray jeans and a fluffy purple sweater, looking all sorts of adorable.
But I know how ruthless he can be under all that color and those sweet smiles. I’ve seen him with his claws out. He’s fought his way up from nothing to be the man he is today. I respect the hell out of him.
He’s one of the few people who I’ll let speak to me this way, and I value his opinion. He’s a hard worker and has been my administrative assistant for the last five years. I’ve grown slightly dependent on him ever since he walked into my life fifteen years ago. At the time, he was a scraggly eighteen-year-old fresh out of the system, who found me through a mutual friend. He needed a place to stay, and I had a room for rent. We had backgrounds in common: foster care, abusive parents, the need to do better.
He’s the one who pushed me to buy this company. He knew how much this would mean to me. How much I’ve wanted this. How much I’ve worked for it.
“I know you’re doing this to prove something, but you could have been a little nicer about it. You didn’t need to take his office.”
I shift in the chair, crossing my ankle over my thigh, and arch an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think people like Mitchell Morris respond to kindness.”
Shiloh lets out a sigh. “Everyone responds to kindness.”
“Not him.”
“I mean, you know how I love those generalizations you like to make. They’re so reasonable,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. “But there’s a small chance that Mitchell Morris isn’tthatbad.”
“He is that bad. You’ve met his father.”
Shiloh’s eyes darken and he nods, glancing away.
“Yeah. He’s a piece of work, but we all know we aren’t our fathers.”
My fists tighten on the arms of the chair, and I breathe deeply through my nose.
“I know, but Mitchell lied to my face. Debra in HR hadn’t heard from him when he was missing from work. He’s used to getting his way, not showing up and people brushing it off. Not under my watch. People have to work for their paychecks here.”
Shiloh snorts. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, which is what I’m trying to do, but you keep interrupting.”
I crack a knuckle, staring out at the horizon as Shiloh continues to unpack his things.
Memories flash through my mind. My dad on the couch drinking, a needle sticking out of his arm, the murmurs of a mad man in the throes of addiction.