Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Luckily, the lights are off in the kitchen, so I creep through the darkness and head toward the stairs. The house is eerily silent. Drawing unwanted attention to myself in this house will only get me into trouble. My dad is mostly harmless. He yells and curses, taking out his frustration on me.
I climb the steps, thankful to make it to the third floor without getting hassled. But my small victory is short-lived. When I push I open my bedroom door, my dad is sitting on my bed with a wooden box in his hand. Carved by hand, from bark my grandfather had at his cabin, the box holds all of my secrets—memories of Grandpa Joe and Erik, old family photos of happier times, and the one thing I never wanted him to find.
Hidden deep beneath the velvet lining is my biggest secret, one that my father now knows. Why else would he be here?
My dad sighs when he hears my footsteps, slowly glancing up at me with tears in his eyes. His face looks puffy, as if he’s been crying for a while.
“So, this is the reason?” He holds the box out for me to take, and I do, stealing it away from him in a hurry.
Hands trembling, I flip open the top and sift through the contents.
He shakes his head. “You’re leaving. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”
Reeking of bourbon and cigars, he gets up from the mattress and stands in front of me. Even with my height and build, he still has age and power over me.
Sometimes, I let him take out his aggression on me. I deserve it. All of it.
My lip trembles along with the rest of my body. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are, Ethan. I don’t want to hear another word. Your grandmother is expecting you. So is Whitmore.”
The mention of Whitmore makes me cringe. I’m not fucking going there.
“I’m eighteen now. You can’t make me go.”
He tilts his head back and laughs. “Oh, yes, I can. Your grandfather put a provision in your trust. I’m in charge of it until you’re twenty-five. I’d like to see how far you get without a cent from me.”
I roll my shoulders, unaffected by his threat. “Then, I’ll ask Grams.”
He uses my grandparents’ money against me all the time. We’ve had this fight more times than I can count, and I’m sick of it.
“Think again.” He smirks. “She won’t budge, and neither will I.”
“Then, I’ll get a job.” I come face-to-face with him, so close that our noses are almost touching. “I don’t need you or your money.”
“Maybe not, but you need my connections. One phone call is all it would take to ruin your professional hockey career. Do you want that? Because I can take away everything you’ve ever wanted in the blink of an eye.”
He doesn’t need to say it aloud, because I know what he’s thinking. I took everything from him.
“No,” I mutter, the word a whisper on my lips.
No matter how smart I think I am, he’s always one step ahead of me. He knows better.
“I’m supposed to go to Strick U with Will in the fall. Coach is expecting us.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and steps back so he can look into my eyes. “Not anymore. I called the school and declined your acceptance. The coach was disappointed you’re not joining Will, but you have more important things to worry about. Get some help, Ethan. You need it.”
I do need help, and I hate to admit my father is right. For once, he’s calm, instead of the usual belligerent mess I have grown accustomed to over the last two years. All of my bad qualities I get from him. We’re alike in so many ways, yet we act as though we have nothing in common. I’m not Erik. I never will be. That’s all that matters to him.
He shakes his head at me one last time, disappointment and disgust registering most when he looks at the box in my hands. “You are going. End of discussion. Have your bags packed and ready. You leave after graduation.”
I consider running away. But how far would I get without money? My car would run out of gas before I made it one state over. I’m dependent on him, and that’s no one’s fault but my own. With my only real friends next door, I could live with the Romans. But I don’t want them to know about my old life. I keep that shit locked away, along with the secrets I bury in this box.
Maybe one day I will tell Will—he should know the person he calls his best friend. But Mia? I can’t stand the thought of her looking at me any differently than she does now. Even if what she feels for me is just a childhood crush, I don’t care. The hour each night we spend together instantly repairs all the shitty parts of my days.