Landon & Shay: Part Two (L&S Duet #2)(7)

The words that came out of his mouth made me want to leap across his desk and slug him in the face. Lance wasn’t a psycho because he struggled with his mind. He wasn’t weak because he couldn’t find his footing. How dare my father paint him in such a light? Lance was more of a man than my father could’ve ever been. It just so happened that depression swallowed him whole before he could find his light.

“I mean, look at you, Landon. What the hell are you doing with your life? No college degree. No goals. No future. You’re following directly in the footsteps of that loser, and your mother is leading you there the same way she led him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up six feet under, too.”

Chills raced throughout my body as acid rose up my throat. How could he say that shit? How could he say he wouldn’t be shocked if I ended up dead like Lance?

“I fucking hate you,” I spat out, feeling the rage in my gut building up more and more with each word my father spewed.

How could someone be so cruel?

Not a hint of remorse passed over his face. He didn’t feel bad for his words or even realize he crossed a line.

He seemed almost smug about it, proud that he could see I’d taken a hit from his hurtful way.

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms. “You hate me because I don’t baby you like your mother does. It’s called tough love, Landon, and someone has to tell you like it is. You’ll never make it in this world without a backbone and thick skin. People will walk all over you, and not everyone will bottle-feed you like your mother. You’re nineteen years old now, and it’s about time you start acting like it.”

“When are you going to start acting your age?” I barked back, gritting my teeth.

“This is my age, Landon. I’m a grown man who handles his business. I get that your mother babies you, and I’m sure you have some people in your life who do the same, but it won’t always be like that. At some point, they’ll grow tired of you and won’t put up with your bullshit ways anymore. There’s a time limit for people caring about your sob story, and believe me when I say it will come quicker than you think it will. At the end of Lance’s life, how many people did he have standing at his tombstone? Pretty much no one. People don’t stick around for folks like Lance, for people like you. So, suck it up, be a man, and change who you are and how you live. Otherwise, you’ll end up alone and sad, living in your mother’s basement.”

“Coming here was a big fucking mistake,” I muttered, standing from the chair. “I forgot what type of person you are.”

He began typing away at his computer, unmoved. “Yes, well. Close the door on your way out.” I started walking away and listened as Dad called after me one last time. “There is one way I will consider paying your mother’s divorce bills.”

“And that is?”

“You go to law school like we planned. You can work here on the weekends and get your life back on the right track.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Then your mother will figure it out. Don’t come back here until you’re ready to be a real man. As long as your childish behavior continues, I want nothing to do with you.”

“I’ll never come back here,” I swore. “And I never want to see you again. The next time I see you it will be at your damn funeral,” I murmured.

“Or at yours,” he shot back, his words coated in sinister hatred.

I couldn’t believe it was possible that my mother had loved a person like him.

I left his office feeling completely defeated, and angry, and sad—really fucking sad. Not because my father was a fucking monster, but because I was unable to alleviate some stress in Mom’s life.

She needed a break, and I didn’t have a damn clue how to get it for her.

As I sat in my rental car outside of the law firm, I gripped the steering wheel tightly in my hands and took a few deep breaths. My heart was racing, and I tried to stop the panic building in my head as some of my father’s words played on a loop.

I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up six feet under, too.

“That’s not me, that’s not me, that’s not me,” I repeated through my almost sealed shut lips. I wasn’t the weak boy my father made me out to be. I wasn’t my uncle. I was scarred but not broken.

I held onto the steering wheel until I talked myself down from the darkness. I controlled my breaths and reduced my heart rate to a steady beat. That was something I wouldn’t have been able to do just months ago. My interaction with my father would’ve swallowed me whole for hours.

This time, it was only minutes.





“Did he really say that to you?” Shay asked, sitting cross-legged on my hotel bed. She came straight over to see me right after school, and I ordered a pizza for us to share.

“Yup. He said I’d end up just like Lance—six feet under because I’m weak.”

“What a monster.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t get how someone could say something so cruel, especially to their own child.”

“He calls it tough love.”

“I call it blatant hate. I hope you don’t believe any of that stuff, Landon. I hope you know all those words he said are lies. Out of everyone in this whole world, you’re one of the strongest people I know. Your vulnerabilities are what make you strong, not weak, and I’m sorry your father made those hurtful comments.”