FOREVER DECEMBER: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK 15) by Honey Palomino

Author:Honey Palomino [Palomino, Honey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

SHANE

“I don’t know why we’re doing this in December anyway!”

Leo’s complaints were getting to me. He was such a little pussy. I was so sick of his whining.

“You need to toughen up, boy!” I shouted. The wind whipped around the boat. The water was a little rocky today and I needed to pay a little more attention to things and his constant nagging wasn’t helping.

“It’s cold!” he insisted.

“You’re wearing a coat!”

“It’s not helping,” he said, his voice cracking as if he were about to break out into tears.

“My god, Bud, it’s not that bad,” I said. “Grow some fucking balls!”

“The wind is about to knock us off the boat, and it’s so cold, the rain is freezing! We can’t even enjoy the view because of all the fog! How about you grow a brain, Dad?”

I snapped at his words. His blatant disrespect. The little shit was about to be a teenager — if I decided to let him live — and I knew if I didn’t teach him not to disrespect me like that now, I never would be able to.

I didn’t want to do it, but he’d left me no choice.

I slapped him. Hard. A hearty backhand across the face that sent him reeling across the other side of the boat. He looked at me like I’d killed his dumb dog or something.

“I hate you!” He flung his words at me like daggers, and it made me happy he knew how to get mad. Even if it was displaced anger flung my way. His stupid mother was always going on and on about love and happiness and kindness and being gentle — fuck that shit. You needed to access that anger in order to be a real man.

This boy was turning into a little pansy and if he wasn’t going to toughen up on his own, I’d just have to do it myself. Maybe this trip was just what he needed. A chance to get away from December and all her soft, snowflake bullshit.

“You think I give a shit if you hate me? I’m not so fond of you myself, you little bastard!”

His eyes widened like I’d slapped him again and he ran away, disappearing down into the cabin with the dog following along behind him.

Just as well, I thought, as I flung open the storage area where I kept my booze. I cracked the seal on a new bottle of Makers and poured a good portion of it down my throat, its warmth shooting through me like little razors tearing through my guts.

It felt damned good.

I’d been going back and forth on whether I’d really kill the boy or not. I mean, he is my son. Maybe I could redeem him somehow, teach him better. I figured I’d give it a little more time and then I’d decide. But with the way he was acting, he wasn’t doing himself any favors.

The more of a little bitch he was, the easier he was making it for me to decide.

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