Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Anger washes over me then.
Great, big wave of anger.
“To you, you mean,” I sneer.
“I —”
“I didn’t tell you anything, big brother,” I growl, my voice low and vibrating, “because I didn’t think you’d care. I didn’t think you’d give a fuck if your wonderful father was beating on your piece of shit brother. That’s what you thought about me, didn’t you?”
He has enough courtesy to look ashamed. “I…”
“Because you’re like everyone else.” I shrug then. “Not that I blame you or anyone else. I’ve earned every inch of my reputation and I’m very fucking proud of it. But don’t you stand there and interrogate me about what I did or didn’t do.”
When I actually did it.
Told someone.
Our mom.
A couple of times even, back when I was little and stupid enough to think that it would help.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
She told me to behave and be good like Homer and it would stop. And then she went on to ignore it and keep my dad’s secret like his good little accomplice.
So yeah, I didn’t think my brother would care.
He’s eight years older than me. By the time I was in kindergarten, he was already in boarding school, being the star student and athlete, living his life away from the house, away from me, only coming home a couple of times a year.
He had no place for me in his life.
He never did.
He was — is — my father’s son and yeah, I admit to entertaining the fantasy that my big brother would come save me from our monster father when I was little, but then I grew up. I realized that no one was coming to save me, certainly not my own family when they were the ones I’d needed saving from.
So I never told anyone.
Not even Lucas.
Maybe I should have — because he was going through the same things — but I could never bring myself to after my encounters with Mom. So all Lucas knew was what everyone knew: that I was a spoiled troublemaker that my parents were very unlucky to have. Despite that, he was still my friend.
“I…” my brother begins. “I’m… I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Reign. I wish I… I let you down. I wish I’d treated you differently. I wish I’d known. I wish I’d —”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Because it doesn’t.
It doesn’t change anything.
It doesn’t change the past, the fact that he didn’t know and that he knows now. And from the looks of it, is regretful. The reason I don’t doubt that is because he just threw the F word at me. Homer is too polite to do that so yeah, I guess his remorse is genuine.
But as I said, it doesn’t matter.
We are who we are.
He’s the favored son and I’m the fuck-up.
We have different lives, different paths and nothing will ever change that.
“I’d like to,” he says, his eyes staring hard at me, “make it right somehow.”
“Make it right how?”
“I’d like you to come work with me.”
“What?”
“At the company.”
At this, I once again find myself stopping. Freezing.
Unable to say a single word.
“I know he wrote you out of the will and seized your trust fund. But I’ve been talking to our lawyers. There’s a way that I could give it all back to you, all the money, now that I own the majority of the shares. And I want to. It belongs to you, Reign. Half of this company’s yours. But I…” His chest expands. “I want you to come work with me.”
“To make it happen, you mean.”
His expression is cool but I see how firmly his jaw is set. “Yes.”
“Even though you just said that that money belongs to me.”
He lets a few seconds go by in silence. Then, “It’ll be full-time for the summer. And then when your classes start, you could do part time. I understand you have soccer and other obligations. Work with me until you graduate and it’s all yours.”
Right.
All mine.
Fucking asshole.
“You’re just like him, aren’t you? Do this and I’ll give you that. Get an A and I won’t lock you up in your room anymore. Behave and you won’t get punched in your ribs. Fall in line and I’ll take you to the doctor for that broken arm I gave you.”
I watch my brother flinch. “Look, you need this. You need the money, don’t you? You must. I’m not sure how you’ve been managing but you need the money.”
I have to laugh at this.
A loud, angry laugh.
“Dad cut me off two years ago, big brother. Nice of you to think of me now.”
When I said our father took legal measures to keep me away from the manor, this is what I meant. He kicked me out of his will and specifically had a clause that said I could never set foot on any of his properties. And while this is a secret to most people, he had to seek help from his lawyers, some top company officials and my brother.