Cyrus
“Cyrus? What’s the matter, baby? You don’t look like you’re having a good time.”
I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes at my date’s childish whining. She clung to my arm, shoving her breasts against me and suffocating me with her cloying perfume. I glanced at her and scowled. Not long ago, I’d have found her overly-contoured face and surgically sculpted body appealing, but tonight…she wasn’t doing it for me.
“I’m tired,” I grumbled, taking a deep drink of my scotch. It was the third or fourth one I had already. I couldn’t remember, but I also didn’t care. I wanted to get drunk, so I could numb this throbbing ache in my chest.
This pain was all Sadie’s fault. I shouldn’t be this torn up inside over her, but I couldn’t get her out of my head. She’d burrowed her way into my mind and planted roots. I wanted to rip her out of there, so I could get some damn peace, and I’d thought going out with someone else would help. The woman next to me, Brittany, had been all but throwing herself at me for months. We’d met at a fundraiser at the Met half a year before, and I’d flirted a bit, but I hadn’t really been interested.
After Sadie’s coldhearted rejection, Brittany had seemed like a decent option to distract myself with. Now, I regretted it. She was too clingy. Too needy. Too fake.
Sadie was her complete opposite. Far from clingy and needy, she made it clear she didn’t have to have me. Most of the time, I was convinced she still didn’t like me. And she was as real as a woman could get. There was nothing fake or plastic about her. She was warm and flawed and everything I hadn’t realized I’d wanted from a woman.
And I was starting to resent her for it.
“Come on, baby,” Brittany cooed, running her hand along my chest. “Loosen up. How about another drink?”
I nodded, finishing off the one still in my hand. Waving my hand, I summoned a waiter and ordered another. The club we were in was one of my regular haunts, but I found the thumping music and dim lighting more annoying than titillating that night. When the waiter returned, he handed me my scotch and Brittany her martini. She didn’t even take a sip and set it down on the low table in front of us.
Giving me what she likely thought was a coy smile, Brittany slithered up and onto my lap, straddling my thighs and looping her arms around my neck. I narrowed my eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to get out of here and go somewhere we can have more fun?” she purred, grinding down onto my lap.
I released a long sigh, irritated. This date wasn’t going the way I’d hoped. Brittany didn’t doing anything for me. The club got on my nerves. Worst of all, I hadn’t stopped thinking of Sadie for one damn moment.
Downing my drink in one gulp, I relished the warmth that spread through my chest as the liquor traveled down to my stomach. My head felt fuzzy, which was an unusual sensation for me. I didn’t drink like this most of the time. I didn’t like not being in control, but I was desperate.
Brittany leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, and I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Setting my empty glass down, I grabbed hold of her waist, picked her up, and moved her to sit on the booth next to me.
“I want to leave,” I growled, standing. “Let’s go.”
Brittany practically jumped to her feet, her expression eager. She was going to be disappointed because I wasn’t going to touch her, but I didn’t bother giving her that heads up as we made our way out of the club. We waited for my driver to drive up to get us. Climbing into the backseat, Brittany tried to slip back onto my lap, but I blocked her and set her back on the seat next to me. She frowned but didn’t protest.
I didn’t speak to her as we drove to her place. I didn’t want to give her any hope that something more was going to happen between us. When we reached her home, she gave me a suggestive look as she opened the car door.
“Do you want to come up for a drink?” she asked in a seductive tone.
“No,” I said. “Sorry, Brittany. This isn’t happening.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? What do you mean? I thought…”
“I’m sure you did,” I told her, drunk and irritated. “But I’m not interested. Goodnight.”
Blinking, Brittany slid out of the car and slammed the door shut with a huff. She stormed to her front door as my driver took off. I slumped down in my seat, exhausted and mentally tapped-out. This night had been shit, and I only felt worse than I had before.
I started to nod off by the time we reached the house, but my driver woke me up with a surprised, “Sir! Is that…?”
Chapter 31
Frowning, I looked out the car window. We were parked by the curb in front of the townhouse and it took my addled brain a few moments to realize what it was that had my driver so startled.
Ralph.
He stood at the bottom of the front steps, his hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped. He stared at the car expectantly. Was the bastard waiting for me?
With a snarl, I got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind me.
“What the hell are you doing here, Ralph?” I barked, stomping toward him. “Didn’t I warn you what would happen if you came here again?”
I saw his throat work as he gulped, and I could tell he was nervous as he gazed up at me.
“I…I want to talk to you about Megan,” he stammered. “I want custody back.”
I stared at him, momentarily struck speechless.
“Are you kidding me?” I spat. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
He shook his head. I could tell he was trying to be brave, but I obviously intimidated him. Good. I wanted him to tremble in fear whenever he was around me.
“I haven’t,” he insisted. “Megan is my daughter, Cyrus. She should be with her father.”
“Oh yeah?” I growled, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “You think Megan would be better off with you? A junkie who killed her mother, rather than her wealthy, powerful uncle who can actually provide for her? You’re an idiot.”
“Cyrus, I’m clean,” Ralph told me. “And it’s not fair to say I killed Kate. It was an accident…”
“Don’t say her name!” I snarled, pointing my finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say her name in front of me again. I swear to God, Ralph, I’ll make you regret it.”
Ralph visibly paled, but he didn’t back down, which surprised me. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like him challenging me like this…showing up at my home where Megan was. Where Sadie was.
“I want my daughter,” he said again, his voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want to take you to court over this…”
“Hell no, you don’t,” I spat. “I’d destroy you, and you know it.”
He clenched his jaw and took a moment to collect himself before murmuring, “I don’t want to hurt her, I swear. She’s my baby, Cyrus. Mine.”
“No,” I said. “She’s not. Not anymore. You gave up all right and claim to that little girl the first time you laid your hands on my sister. I should have beat you to a bloody pulp back then. My biggest regret is letting you have any hold over my sister and ruining her life. If it weren’t for Megan, I’d have made you disappear a long time ago.”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Are you threatening me?”
“No.” I took a step closer to him, so I could tower over him and glare down at him. “I’m telling you that your daughter is the only reason you’re standing here right now and not lying in a morgue somewhere. If you come near her or anyone in my household again, I can’t promise that’s not where you’ll end up.”
A breath left him in a rush, and he seemed to deflate right in front of my eyes. He knew I didn’t make idle threats.
“Cyrus,” he whispered. “You’re going to regret keeping me away from my daughter.”
I took that as a threat. He was threatening me and my family. Not only Megan, but Sadie.
That thought caught me off guard. When did I start thinking of Sadie as family? When did that shift take place?
My head swam, my temper was on the razor’s edge. I needed to get away from this bastard before I did something I might not regret as much as I should.
“Leave,” I snarled. “Leave right now while you can still walk.”
Ralph’s nostril’s flared, and a flash of something that was very close to anger crossed his gaze. For a moment, I thought he might actually take a swing at me. That would be incredibly stupid of him, but a part of me wished he would. It would give the excuse I needed to pummel him into the pavement.
“I’ll leave,” he said after a small pause. “For now. But this isn’t over, Cyrus. Megan belongs with me.”
“Leave!” I roared.
Turning, he hurried down the sidewalk, running from my wrath. I watched him go to make sure he actually left and didn’t turn back around. When I was confident that he was gone for the night, I made my way up to the front door of the house, still drunk and now seething.