Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(77)

Deuce’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t know what you been doin’? Half the time you ain’t even smart enough to clean off your f*ckin’ nose.”

Cage snorted and Deuce’s nostrils flared. “Somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah. It’s funny that you think I give two f*cks if you know or not.”

“My boys don’t f*ckin’ use,” he growled. “You know this.”

“Yeah?” Cage shot back. “Tell that to Bucket.”

Deuce stood up straight and glared down at him. “Bucket’s got side business goin’ on, he ain’t usin’ shit. You’d know this if you picked your f*ckin’ head up outta the powder for a f*ckin’ minute.”

Cage took another long swallow of Jack before looking up at his father. “No, *, I’d know it if you actually told me somethin’ once in a while instead of treatin’ me like shit on your f*ckin’ shoe.”

“You a little f*ckin’ girl?” Deuce demanded. “You need me to wipe your goddamn ass for you too?”

Cage’s temper flared to life and before he knew what he was doing, he was whipping the bottle of Jack across the room. He shot to his feet, eye to eye with his father, just as it hit the wall and shattered.

“You’re a shit father, you know that?” he yelled. “You’re a shit person too! Yet you get handed every f*ckin’ thing, none of it deserved!”

Moments later Cage was pinned up against the wall by his throat, his father up in his face. “You think I don’t f*ckin’ know it?” Deuce spat. “You think I ain’t grateful, you’re motherf*ckin’ wrong! I’ve been where the f*ck you are, you little shit. I’ve been pissed off at the whole motherf*ckin’ world, I’ve been f*ckin’ shot a f*ck of a lot more than you, and unlike you, I had an old man who didn’t give a motherf*ck if I lived or died.”

Cage smirked. His old man thought he gave a f*ck that he’d gotten shot. He didn’t. In fact, his old man could shoot him right the f*ck now and he still wouldn’t give a f*ck.

“So what you’re sayin’,” Cage drawled, “is that I should be followin’ in your f*ckin’ footsteps, get you shanked in the showers like you did to your old man?”

Deuce’s nostrils flared.

“Shit’s been goin’ on long enough,” he growled, squeezing Cage’s throat. “Time for you to flush your f*ckin’ bullshit and get back to livin’.”

Living? Fucking living?

Rage boiled up inside of him and he found himself gripping his father’s wrist and yanking the man’s hands off his throat.

“FUCK YOU!” he roared, shoving Deuce backward and immediately advancing on him. “You call my life living? I ain’t livin’! I’ve just been followin’ you around, pickin’ up your f*ckin’ messes! I ain’t never had anything that was mine!”

He shoved Deuce again. “It’s all been yours! All of it! The club, the boys, Eva and the kids! They’re all f*ckin’ yours! I got nothin’! Fuckin’ nothin’!”

Cage would have known it was coming but as it was he was too pumped up on drug-fueled adrenaline and didn’t see his father’s fist until after it had collided with his face.

Lying on the floor, rubbing his jaw, he blinked up at his father’s towering form.

“You really are f*ckin’ stupid,” Deuce said roughly. “You’re my f*ckin’ kid, my son, and everything I have, it’s always been yours. Who you think I’m passin’ that gavel to?”

“Fuck your gavel,” Cage sneered. “Fuck your club and f*ck you.”

Deuce stared down at him for a heartbeat and then he turned away.

Cage continued to lie on the floor long after his bedroom door had slammed shut.

Fuck his old man. Fuck this club. And f*ck himself.

But most of all…

Fuck Tegen.

? ? ?

His head a mess, Deuce stormed out of Cage’s room, slammed the door closed behind him, and took off down the hall.

His kid was going to die if he kept this shit up. Barely a year after ZZ had blown two holes through his lung and he was not only still smoking but blowing lines and who knew what else. Fucking dirty whores too.

Sighing angrily, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Where the f*ck did he keep going wrong? No matter what he f*cking did, it was never enough, not for any of them. Except Eva. She was the lone person on this earth he’d ever been enough for.

“Jesus f*ck,” he muttered. “I’d be f*ckin’ screwed without her.”

One thing was true: In this f*cking life, the dirty business he ran, you needed a good woman backing you. A strong one. One who knew her place; one who would be there for you no matter what. A woman a man could count on to give him what he needed when he f*cking needed it.

“How’s the boy?” Mick asked as Deuce slid onto the barstool beside him. Reaching over the bar, Deuce slapped the back of Blue’s head, but the drunk old f*cker didn’t so much as twitch.

“Fucked.”

“Reminds me a lot of his old man,” Mick said.

Deuce gave him a sideways glance. “Yeah? How f*ckin’ so? I ain’t never used.”

Grabbing the glass in front of him, Mick downed the last of his whiskey. “Didn’t say it was the exact same. Said he reminded me of you. After Eva ran out on ya. Difference was, you had too many responsibilities to be f*ckin’ up so bad. Cage don’t have jack shit to do but f*ck up.”