I drive at a maximum speed limit all the way to the Wright residence. I know this is going to happen very soon since I opened a can of worms. Now everyone is going to be affected as soon as she’s going to find out what’s her connection to my family.
I instantly recognize Dad’s car and the black SUV of his security parked in front of the two-story grey house. I give Dad’s bodyguard a nod of recognition. My brows furrow when I can’t find Camila’s car parked around the area. Did she lie to me about being here?
I shove my hands to my black coat due to the icy cold weather and sprint toward the concrete path that leads to the house. Stand on my left is a dark green mailbox with its house number printed on its post.
The door screen is already decorated with a red Christmas stocking. I guess the Wright celebrates holidays seriously.
I pull the main door wide open since it’s unlocked. This home is very welcoming. I notice instantly the family photographs including Camila’s nailed on the wall. The six-footer artificial Christmas tree stands tall at the left corner of the living room, but by the looks of it, it’s still half undone. A single box on the floor that must contain ornaments and Christmas lights.
My heart warms at the thought of how Cam grew up with Kyland in this home. I can imagine her wearing a red sweater and waiting for her gifts every Christmas morning.
“Mrs. Wright?” I call out when I don’t recall to ring the doorbell.
Hesitantly, I step cautiously to the hallway with an eggshell white-colored wall. I stop to a halt when I hear Dad’s voice. Of course, he’s here.
“She deserves to know, Issa. Stop blaming yourself, it’s all my fault anyway. I know this is going to happen,” he sounds worried.
Anger skims up my spine. He did tell her everything. I walk faster into the kitchen and stop in front of them. Shock plasters in their faces. The woman with a short raven hair leaning on the fridge with a glass of water in her hand notices me first. She’s a carbon copy of Kyland. She’s maybe two inches shorter than Camila, but she has a slim figure and she still looks beautiful at her age.
Dad’s eyes widen in surprise. “What are you doing here, Pyke?” Dad swallows forcibly, pushing the guilt out his body.
“I’m asking you the same thing, Dad. What are you doing here at Wright’s home?” I ask without breaking my gaze on him.
“This is a business matter.” Dad’s fists suddenly clench.
My brows arch. “What did you tell Camila?” My voice comes out a firm, making Dad’s eyes gleamed with anger.
“This is none of your business. You shouldn’t have come here.”
How does it isn’t my business when it concerns Camila?
“And where I should be? For Pete’s sake, Dad, I’m not seventeen years old anymore.” My nose flares. He always treats like one since I did that mistakes years ago.
“But you still act like one. Get out of here and go home,” Dad is already losing his control, but I know he’s doing his best not to explode in front of Mrs. Wright.
“Guys, let’s all calm down and sit down in the living room and talk about this. What done has been done. We can’t change everything that already happened. Let’s just pray that she will forgive Paul and me for keeping everything away from her.” Mrs. Wright places the glass on the sink and walks toward me.
“We have nothing to discuss with him, Issa.” He shifts his angry stare to Issa who’s now standing beside me.
“Really, Dad? Did you just drop the bomb on Camila? Or did she walk in here, and finds out by herself?” My brow cocks, waiting for his honest response, but it never happens.
“Pyke, enough of this nonsense!” Dad thunders.
Mrs. Wright jumps beside me. I feel bad for the old woman. She might get a heart attack if Dad continues raising his voice in her home.
“How could the two of you connive and hide everything away from her? It doesn’t matter her father’s family didn’t want to do anything with her, but she’s a grown woman and she has the right to know what blood is running in her veins. How could you do this?” I focus my gaze on my father who is now clenching his jaw and breathing heavily.
“I said enough, Pyke Kennan-”
“Or what? Are you going to hurt me? Or kill me like how you literally killed that bitch?” I shift my gaze to Mrs. Wright who is still looking shocked. “Forgive my words, Mrs. Wright.” I turn my gaze to my father who is now red with fury. “Or like how you literally killed Camila’s father, and you know what?” I chuckle sarcastically. “You literally killed her, too. She almost died from choking because Gray is keeping grudges to what happened to his sister. Now, he comes after me and used Cam to hurt me. Tell me now, Dad. What have you done to Camila?” I’m surprised at myself without quivering and cowering in front of him.
“What happened to Cam, Pyke?” Mrs. Wright shakes to cry. Her eyes pool with tears, and I feel guilty for her.
I face her. “Aaron Gray was her boss. I ignored what I heard about him and I thought he wouldn’t come to New York just to plan on hurting me by using Camila.”
“This is your fault, son!”
“How does it is my fault? Am I the one who impregnated that bitch and run away from her then used me against you?” I huff with anger.
“That’s not true!”
“Then what’s the truth? Tell me how did Cameron die?”
Dad just swallows hard, unable to meet my gaze.
“I get it. You’re being selfish that all you thought was your status-money, and power and if his career is ruined you will fall down with him, too. You knew why he drunk that night before his race because you told him to abort the pregnancy of the woman he got knocked-up. You’re a control freak!”
My lips quiver into a sad smile. “He was racing himself alone to fight for his life to survive in the hospital bed, instead of racing against his opponents for the championship.”
“Did Mom know your little secret with Athena, that you supposed to have a baby with her?” My knuckles crack at how strong I’m balling my fists to fight the urge of punching my old man’s face.
Dad launches himself to me, grabbing my coat and pushes me against the wall. “That’s not what happened! And that woman almost ruined your life and you’re still slapping the guilt across my face when all I did is to protect you? I’m your father, Pyke. I just did what I thought was right to protect you and our family!” His bloodshot eyes grow bigger as he holds me captive with his cold and hard stare.
I stay calm no matter how angry I am right now. I can’t let the old woman get frightened while Dad is throwing his anger at me.
“That’s Enough, Paul!” Mrs. Wright yells. “And you, Pyke, stop beating the dead horse!” She sobs while grabbing me and Dad in our arms.
“I need to see Camila. She drives away still shocked and she might get into an accident,” she says, hugging herself.
Dad let go of me. “Get out of here before I lose control.”
“Not without Camila with me.” I fix my coat and look at him one more time. I face Mrs. Wright. “Sorry for my trouble, Mrs. Wright, but I need to know where Camila could possibly be right now.”
“She’s probably in her uncle’s grave,” she says, wiping her tears.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Wright.” I move closer to her and pull her into a hug.
“She will always be my baby girl. Please take care of her, Pyke.”
I bob my head smiling at her. I turn around and away without looking back at Dad.
“Pyke!”
“Not now, Dad.”
I don’t know where did I get the courage to ignore my father. I’m always his little puppet since that night happened, but since I met Camila, everything changed. I’ve started to live on my own without Dad’s voice echoing in my brain.
***
Fifteen minutes later, I find the cemetery. The only thing I can hear is the soft crunch of my footsteps as I walk away from my car. So silent, only the chilly wind pricks my face making me shiver. A visible puff every breath I release as I try to calm my nerves. I pull my knitted hat down to cover my ears as my teeth start to chatter.
Why does the weather suddenly turn furious?
My eyes find the woman I am looking for. She’s hugging her knees tightly into a ball and racking herself in front of the stone plate-probably her uncle. She’s shaking not from the cold weather, but from crying.
I lower my pace toward here until I’m standing behind her back. She doesn’t even notice my presence. I kneel down and wrap my arms around her from behind. Camila yelps in surprise, then she elbows me and tries to loosen my arms around her.
“Hush, Babe. It’s me, it’s me. Pyke,” I whisper and realize I just scare the hell out of her. I press my face into her icy cheek and close my eyes to feel her skin against mine. “Babe, everything will be okay. Just trust me, we can do this together.”
I hug her tighter and let her continue to sob in my arms. My heart breaks knowing my father is the one causing her pain.
My eyes trace the stone plate in front of us. It’s indeed her uncle.
Levi Jaxon King
“No, Pyke. Everything won’t be okay. The world is just came crashing down on me. I thought I don’t have anyone in my life. Then I just found out the man I admired most is my uncle by blood. How did he keep it away from me? Why didn’t he tell me? Am I really worthless that could shame his family?”
“I’m sorry, Babe.” I sigh in frustration because I, myself don’t know how to answer her.
“I thought my mother was just an alcoholic and coke addict, but she’s a liar and a manipulative bitch, too. She was the one who wanted to get rid of me because she’s a selfish bitch. What only mattered to her was her career in Hollywood.” She turns to face me. Her bloodshot eyes are full of pain and sorrow. I just don’t know what to do to wipe them away.
I blow a shaky breath. “One time, I wished I could turn back the time and be a good guy, but then, I thought I wouldn’t meet someone that night if I’m not the asshole Pyke that I am. I realized things happen for a reason, Camila. Believe me, since then, I was very thankful every day for the way that I am today. Because of my assholeness, I met one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met in my entire life.” I wipe her tears that continuously streaming down her eyes.
“Do you know who my father was?”
I shake my head. “Not until recently.”
“I hated him all my life to the thought that he denied me as his.” A sad smile spread across her lips.
“I’m so sorry, Babe.” I press my lips to her forehead.
“I want to see my mother and slap her face to show her what she’d lost,” she chuckles sadly as I caress her crimson red cheeks.
“Are you angry at my dad?”