Addicted (The Addicted Series, #1)(52)

Tyler





“I’m so proud of you, son,” my father said while I was sitting in his office after a long day at work. It’d been a week after Victoria and I had gotten back together and I’d never been happier. “You made such a change in a short period of time.”

After getting back together, I’d thrown myself into my duties with renewed vigor, trying to fix all the problems that so worried my father.

If he needed me for a specific task, I was there. If he wanted something done that required my expertise, I did it instead of passing it off to a lackey.

I wasn’t sure what had me so motivated, but I had my guess.

With Victoria by my side, I was a changed man. Through and through. “Ah, thanks, Dad,” I said.

He shook his head. “That was one helluva presentation you gave this afternoon. I haven’t seen you that excited in years.”

“Did you like it? I must admit, I can’t take all the credit. Jeff helped me for hours getting prepared.”

“Even still, you have such a way with words. A charm about you that I respect. You could definitely be a public speaker.”

“Please, Dad,” I muttered. “I hate speaking in front of groups. I’m dreading this thing I have to do at Brad’s wedding as it is.”

Dad grinned. “Ah, Brad. How is that fella nowadays?”

“He’s hanging in there,” I replied. “Once the wedding is over I’m sure he’ll be better.”

Dad looked emphatic. “The poor bastard.”

Suddenly, the doors to the office burst open. Startled, I jumped to my feet, as did my dad.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Charles Whitmore greeted us cheerily, strolling into the room as if he owned the place.

He made a waving motion at us. “Please, please. Have a seat. Don’t you both stand up on my account.”

Father slowly sank back into his chair, but I remained standing. I knew by the smug sound of Charles’s voice that the bastard had something up his sleeve.

“What the hell are you doing barging in here without knocking, Charles?” Father demanded. “I was having a private conversation with my son.”

Charles walked over to his desk, sparing a quick glance my way. “Oh yes, your son.”

My dad scowled in annoyance “Yes, my son. You do remember Tyler, don’t you?”

Charles laughed. “Of course I do. Who couldn’t remember the cocky * that’s caused Armex major problems and robbed me of my rightful position?”

The only thing keeping me from turning Charles’s face inside out was knowing that I’d probably spend a night in jail and would be sued for millions of dollars. Still, it’d almost be worth it.

Dad froze, staring at Charles suspiciously. “Show some respect, Charles. I’m not going tell you again.”

Charles’s face twisted into a mask of fury. “What I remember, Mr. Locklin, is being promised a promotion.”

“So that’s what this is all about,” Dad muttered, his eyes glued to Charles’s annoying mug. “You’re still upset over all that.”

“You’re damn right I’m upset, sir!”

“I suggest you get over it. You’re an asset, so I’m going to cut you some slack, but you’re pushing it.”

Charles grew silent and stood there fuming. I watched him closely, wondering if I was going to have to drag him out of the office if he refused to leave. I’d enjoy manhandling the little prick immensely.

“Fine,” Charles snarled finally. “I didn’t want have to do this, but you leave me no choice.” Keeping his eyes on my dad, he stuck his hand inside his blazer, reaching for something.

My eyes went wide and I was gripped by panic as Charles grabbed something.

I guess I’d been watching too many movies, but my heart was suddenly in my throat, and I quickly leaped across the space separating us. A second later, I collided into Charles with a grunt, knocking him to the floor and sending the folder in his hand flying.

“What the hell? Get off of me!” Charles yelled, struggling to push me off.

Scattered across the floor, I saw pictures, scores of them. My dad was already picking one up. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.

I got a glimpse of one of the photos, and immediately a feeling of dread twisted in my stomach.

In the photo you could see Victoria and me, her legs pushed back to her head, and the back of my masculine figure as I pounded away.

Anger threatened to overwhelm me, and it was all I could do to keep from going over and choking the worthless life out of Charles.

“That,” Charles said smugly, rising to his feet and dusting himself off, a look of sick pleasure coming over his face, “is your son f*cking his stepsister.”

My father looked at me with question. The look I returned him told him all he needed to know.

“Looks like Tyler” he muttered. “But I don’t see his face.”

“Keep looking, you’ll find it in there somewhere,” Charles purred. “Now that we know the situation here—let’s discuss my promotion. Or these are going straight to the media.”

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled, going for Charles. Dad grabbed me before I took a few steps and pulled me back.