Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3) (17 page)

BOOK: Filmed: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (City Series Book 3)
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As I stood there, working up the nerve to say my hellos and my last goodbye, somebody entered the room behind me.

“Well hello there, son,” came the gruff voice.

I turned around. “Good to see you showed up,” I said to him.

My dad was wearing an expensive suit and tie, clearly brand new, and his shoes were freshly polished. His dark hair was thinning, but still stylishly cut, and his glasses were thin framed and light on his face. He smiled at me, the picture of condescending wealth.

“Of course I did, idiot. He was my dad.”

I snorted. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s say hello to the family.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. “I haven’t seen you in a while, son. Aren’t you going to hug your old man?”

I’d rather fuck a snake in the mouth. “Don’t start this shit.”

He grinned. “Start what? I can’t hug my own son?”

I balled my fists, the tension flowing down my arms. I wanted so badly to hit him, maybe break his nose, get some good blood flowing. But my grandfather would have hated that. He was always trying to get me to reconcile with his son, and I kept telling him I would, especially toward the end.

But that was a lie, one of many I’ve told in my life.

Slowly, I let my breath out, and relaxed. “No, you can’t.”

Dad shrugged, still grinning. “You still hold a grudge, that’s fine. Just don’t be a little prick when I bury my dad,” he said.

Before I could give him my witty retort, which would have been something along the lines of “go fuck yourself you ancient-balled cocksucker,” he moved passed me and began to glad-hand the family. If I had to say one good thing about my dad, it would be that he knew how to work a room.

I took a few more deep breaths, and then joined him, shaking hands and pretending like I gave a shit that I hadn’t seen half of them in years. Pretending like they didn’t abandon me to that asshole.

Pretending like the only decent person in our entire family wasn’t lying in the coffin.

––––––––

A
s the funeral ended, the flowers placed on the casket, the casket lowered into the dirt, the prayers said, my father offered to take the family out to eat. It was the least he could do, he said, since everyone made the trip out there.

I wasn’t in the mood to thank the cousins for coming, since none of them had bothered when he was alive, but I also didn’t want to start a fight in the cemetery, so I kept my mouth shut. As everyone climbed into their cars, intent on meeting at the restaurant, my father cornered me.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“I didn’t plan on it.”

“I’d really like it if you came.”

“Like I said, I have some shit to do back at home.”

He stared at me and got that look on his face. “You’re coming to fucking lunch.”

I stepped up to him, sick of his bullying, and sick of his attitude. “I’m not coming to lunch. I’m going to go home and grieve for my fucking grandfather.”

He snarled, and I could tell he was ready to hit me. “I’m so sick of you acting like a spoiled baby, Noah.”

“And I’m tired of you pushing me around, you old fuck.”

“Cut the shit you little brat. Come to lunch, smile and make nice with the fucking family, and then you can go home and keep wasting my fucking money.”

“No. I’m going home.” I moved around him, heading toward my car.

“Are you still seeing that girl?” he called out.

I stopped and turned. He grinned at me. We were alone in the cemetery, and everyone else had already slowly driven off, excited for a free meal from their famous family member.

“I am,” I said quietly.

“What did you say?”

“I’m still fucking seeing her,” I said more loudly.

He shook his head sadly and looked disappointed. “You know what I said would happen if you keep seeing her.”

“I know.”

“And you think I’m kidding?”

“What’s your fucking problem with her, anyway?”

“Her mom tried to fuck my career, Noah. And now you’re trying to fuck her daughter. I’m sick of all your pathetic ‘I hate Daddy’ bullshit. Get your act together, graduate school, and come home.”

I shook my head, disgusted. “Is that what you think this is? You think I’m with her to get back at you?”

He laughed, exasperated. “What else has all this bullshit for the past few years been, Noah? You hate me. I get that. Frankly, I don’t care all that much. Ever since your mother passed away, you’ve been a sullen little cunt, and I’m sick of it.”

That pushed me over the edge. We hadn’t spoken about my mother in years out of some mutual understanding that she was out of bounds. She was the only pure thing left, at least her memory was, and I needed that.

Without thinking, I took a few steps toward him, cocked back my fast, and slugged him across the chin, hard. Pain flashed through my knuckles and up my wrist, but I savored it. I drank the pain in, needing it.

He let out a grunt and took a few wobbly steps back, reaching his hands up to defend himself. I stopped and stared at him, seething.

Slowly he straightened himself up, checking his jaw.

“That was pretty stupid,” he said.

“I’m done. I’m done letting you push me around. I’m done letting you fuck me up.”

He stared at me blankly for a second, and then spoke slowly. “Listen to me, Noah. You are nothing without my money. If I take away your trust, you will be crushed with debt. You have never held a real job, and you have no clue how to get by without me. You will be buried in a few months.”

He took a few steps closer. “Do yourself a favor. Shut your mouth and listen to me for once. I don’t hate you, son. I’ve never hated you. And I can accept it if you hate me. But you will respect me. You will listen to me when I tell you what to do. You wanted to hit me? Fine, you hit me. I hope you feel a little better. But you will come to lunch, and you fucking will stop seeing that girl. Or else your money is gone, and you are fucked. You are good and truly fucked.”

I stared at him, shaking. I couldn’t move and I felt exhausted. He walked up to me and stopped inches away from my face. I could smell his stinking breath and the thick cologne he wore. It hit me in the gut how old he looked. His eyes had bags under them and he looked thin, almost gaunt. I had seen my father recently, but I hadn’t really looked at him in a long time. Standing by my grandfather’s grave, his pissed off eyes in my face, I couldn’t help but pity him, just a little bit.

“You think that’s what she wanted for you? Do you think she wanted you to be a pathetic fucking loser? You’ll fail without me. You know it.” He paused to spit on the ground at my feet. My knees were shaking and I felt like I was about to throw up. Sweat beaded all along my back. “She wanted the world for you, Noah. She knew that my job was the ticket for all of us. She dealt with my long hours and all the bullshit early on, because it would pay off in the long run. And it did pay off. You want to throw away your mother’s sacrifices because you’re some spoiled piece of shit? I don’t think you do.”

I felt like he had punched me back, but worse. I felt like he had torn out my guts, held them up to me, and said, “See? They’re black and rotted, just like mine.”

“Now get in your car, drive to lunch, and act like you give a single shit. Do you understand?”

I kept staring at him, my body willing me to punch him again, to do anything. I wanted to scream and yell, tell him he was wrong about mom, tell him he didn’t know anything about her. I wanted to run away to Linda, spend the rest of my life learning every inch of her body. I wanted to do anything but go to that restaurant. He returned my look, his face a passive mask.

Finally, I let out a long breath, breaking the tension. I turned and began to head over to my car, my hands shoved in my pockets.

“I’ll see you at the restaurant,” he called after me.

I climbed into my car, started the engine, and began to drive out of the cemetery. I thought about Linda, her smile and her laugh, and the way she blushed and got so angry every time I talked about her sexy polka dot panties. I thought about the night we spent together, and the first time I kissed her in the movie theater. I thought about how wet she was for me, constantly aching for my body, and how badly my cock needed her warmth. I would have given anything to see her in that moment, to hold her hand, and to make her laugh.

But I was
not
a good guy. I wasn’t even a halfway decent person. Just because I did a few nice things for the people that I cared about, didn’t mean I was a good.

I imagined myself through my father’s eyes and I hated what I saw.

I made a right and headed toward the restaurant.

Chapter Sixteen

I
ripped the ticket stubs, smiling at the couples as they walked by me. It was the last showing, and my feet hurt already. By then, I was on autopilot, completely comfortable in the theater. I smiled over at Chuck, and he grinned back as he dumped a bunch of popcorn into a bucket. He was cute, with shaggy brown hair and a boyish smile, though only an inch or two taller than me, and a little out of shape. Not like I was shallow or anything, but for some reason I began to notice that sort of thing. Guys that took care of themselves were inherently more attractive to me, at least ever since
he
came into my life.

I shook my head, dispelling thoughts of him. I looked out across the lobby and sighed. Selena was changing out the trashcans but was using the wrong bags again, which meant I was going to have to fix them. She started working at the theater a week ago, and still hadn’t caught on to everything. She tried hard and wasn’t lazy, but she was pretty spacey and sometimes forgot simple instructions. In all honesty, though, she was a step up from that
other guy
, wherever he went to.

And we had needed someone immediately when he had quit. There was no warning, no two weeks’ notice, nothing. Just one day, he walked into Miss Havisham’s office, told her that he wasn’t coming back, and never did. At first, I tried to do both of our jobs, but it was pretty impossible. I had no clue how he did it all before I was hired. Eventually, I asked Selena if she needed a job or something, and it all seemed to work out.

Except that he was gone, and I had no clue where he was.

As the last customers filed by, Chuck ambled over to me, grinning. He pulled me out of my introspection, and I smiled back at him.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Slow and boring.”

“So pretty good then.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s a stellar night.”

“At least you don’t have Mikey’s horrible stench to deal with.”

I made a face. “You two are truly gross.”

“Not me, I shower at least once a week.”

“How are you two allowed to touch food?” I said with mock horror.

“I usually wash my hands,” he replied.

“Wait, seriously though, you do wash your hands, right?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Want some popcorn?”

I groaned. I knew he was joking, but the two of them could be so immature and disgusting sometimes. The fact that they handled all of the food felt like a travesty in my mind, but it wasn’t my place to question the perfect business acumen of Miss Havisham.

“If anyone gets sick...” I said, trailing off, then laughing.

He smiled when I laughed at his joke. It felt good to make him smile, even if it was easy. Ever since
he
had left, Chuck became my closest friend at the theater. We even started hanging out between classes during the day, which I guessed made him my actual friend, and not just a work buddy.

“Doing anything tonight?” he asked me.

I paused. “Probably just going home like usual, why?”

“Want to do something? Get a drink or whatever?”

That took me off guard. Was Chuck asking me out? I hadn’t seen anyone in a while, and wasn’t really ready to try again. Chuck was cute and I liked spending time with him, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for something like that. Still, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I’m not sure,” I said softly, feeling awkward.

He grinned and put his hands up. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Just a friendly gesture to try and break your bored-spell.”

I smiled back. That could have been true, but I doubted it. I could tell Chuck had a crush on me if I was going to be completely honest. It was obvious from the way he constantly flirted with me. And truthfully, I liked the attention, though I never gave him the impression that I felt the same way. I needed Chuck as a friend to help me get rid of the bad memories associated with the theater, but I just wasn’t ready to get close to anyone.

“Thanks, I’m just exhausted, you know?”

“Say no more. I’m sure Mikey will be more than willing to get a little hammered with me.”

I laughed and he headed back over to the concession stand. I felt guilty turning him down, but I knew it wouldn’t have been fair to push it with him. He knew I was in a bad place, but that didn’t mean I could take advantage of him.

I thought everything had been complicated when
he
was around. But when he was gone, nothing had gotten better. That weird hole in my heart that throbbed every night, sick to death with worry over what he was getting himself involved with, only continued to grow with every gasping breath.

It had been a month since I last heard from Noah Carterson. Four weeks since the night of his party. Four weeks since he drove me home, the weather perfect, sunlight in our hair, smiles in our faces. Four weeks since I was last happy and content. I kept remembering what he said to me when he dropped me off that day.

He grabbed me by the wrist as I started to climb my stoop, his car still idling in the road. I turned, and there was this heavy grin on his face. He pulled me down to him, and I stumbled against his body, his strong arms steadying me against his sculpted chest.

I felt his lips brush against mine, along my cheek, and stop against my ear.

“When you’re up there, think about me,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew.

“Go into your room, slip your pretty hand down onto your perfect pussy, and think about me while you make yourself come.”

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