The manic laugh erupted again. “Really? And how will you stop me? Kick me out? That would be a great idea. I’ll go pack my bags and start contacting all the news stations from here to Nashville with my story. They’ll love this juicy Lawton gossip. The world will know you can’t get a stiff dick anymore.”
I enjoyed watching his face turn bright red. If he dropped dead of a heart attack right this moment, I would cherish it. Watching him die. I hated him that much.
“Jesus, Gunner, what is wrong with you?” Rhett finally found his voice and spoke up.
I didn’t take my eyes off his father. Just in case he did die, I’d like to witness it. “You wanted it all, brother. You got it. It was never mine to begin with.”
“This is crazy talk. I didn’t ask for all this. He just decided to do it.”
I had to look at him this time. See the lie in his eyes. “But you sat there quietly while he gave it all to you, didn’t you? That’s fine. I don’t want to be you. I want to succeed on my own, not with the world given to me.”
That was the truth. I had a lot to prove. To my mother, to this man in front of me, and to this town that believed me to be the spoiled heir to a fortune.
“Silence,” Rhett’s father roared.
While Rhett did as he was commanded, I turned back to him and smirked. “Or what? Think you can whup my ass? I’d like to see you try.”
“You’re as sorry an excuse for a human as your father was. Ungrateful, lazy mooch expecting the world to do as you wish. I kept you as my own and gave you a life he couldn’t have given you. And just like him and your mother you took advantage of my generosity. If it wasn’t for Rhett, I’d say your mother was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Dad! What the hell is wrong with you two?” Rhett sounded appalled.
“Keep talking, old man. Nothing you say matters to me. Tell me who my father is, and I’ll leave quietly. Fight me on this, and I’ll tell the whole motherfucking world the dirty Lawton secret. That I’m the bastard son.”
The door swung open behind us, and my mother’s voice sliced through the room. “No!”
Rhett spun around to look at her, his eyes still wide with confusion and shock. I kept my disgusted gaze on the man in front of me. He, too, was looking at my mother, but the threat in his eyes was clear. He expected her to shut me up. Good luck with that, asshole.
“Mom, thank God, they’ve lost their shit in here,” Rhett said as if she were the salvation, not the cause of all of this. I should have known who my real father was. She hid me from him, and I hated her for that. She allowed me to be neglected by a man and verbally abused my entire life while all along there was a man out there who shared my DNA. I wanted to know him. I needed to know that something in him was good.
“Boys, leave,” she said, her voice hard and cold. “Now.”
Rhett did as she commanded, but I turned to face her. I wasn’t going anywhere. “I think I’ll stay,” I replied, taunting her. She’d made this monster. Now she could fix it or at least give me my goddamn answers.
“Gunner,” she sighed dramatically. “I need to speak with your father alone.”
“He’s not my father. Don’t EVER call him that again.”
She paused, and I expected her to argue with me, but she kept her angry glare focused on him. “No, he isn’t. But you’re a Lawton, and he knows it. You are heir to as much of the Lawton inheritance as Rhett, and he knows it. Now leave, and I’ll remind him just how wrong he is.”
“Don’t call me a Lawton. His blood doesn’t run in my veins.” I spat the words out as if they tasted as bad as they made my stomach turn.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Lawton blood runs just as strong in your veins as it does in your brother’s. Now. GO!”
Rhett’s hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me toward the door. “Come on,” he demanded, and I went with him. Not because I was obeying him. I was just confused. What the fuck did she mean I was a Lawton?
All. Of. It.
CHAPTER 29
WILLA
I opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of food Nonna had left for me. Grilled fish with steamed broccoli and a baked potato placed on one of her yellow flower dishes all wrapped up. I’d gotten home close to five after my long walk. That kind of physical exercise made me hungry. I was ready to eat all of this and a piece of pie.
The sound of a car pulling up outside stopped me from warming up my food. Setting it down on the counter, I went to the back door to see who was here. I had a feeling it was Gunner, but I wanted to see to be sure.
I was right.
Jerk.
I walked back to my food and unwrapped it, then placed it in the microwave. Just as the food began turning slowly inside on the glass platter, a knock sounded on the door. I debated ignoring him. He was coming to apologize. I expected him to. But I didn’t have to forgive him.
When the ding of the microwave alerting me the food was heated went off, I reached in and got it out, then went to set it on the table. Another knock sounded. He wasn’t giving up. I turned around and was going to give him an annoyed glare but paused when I saw the look in his eyes. He was upset. His eyes were bloodshot as if he’d been crying.
That got my attention. My annoyance was quickly replaced with concern as I hurried over to the door to open it and check on him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, not waiting on him to give me a reason why he was upset.
“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice hoarse from emotion.