Hard Rock Heat: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 5) by Athena Wright

Author:Athena Wright [Wright, Athena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

When the rude man identified himself as Damon's father and I saw Damon's reaction, it might have been the right time to be confused.

Instead, I remembered our previous conversation over greasy burgers. We'd talked about turning into our parents. Damon's expression had grown dark. I'd asked him if his dad was the reason he'd left home.

"My father… is not a good man."

I backed away from the door. I didn't know exactly how not good was not good, but I didn't want to take any chances.

"I asked what the fuck you're doing here," Damon said again. That same darkness was back in his eyes.

My heart was in my throat, gaze darting back and forth between the two of them, waiting. Anticipating. I didn't know how awful this was going to get, but I knew it wouldn't be good.

"Can't I visit my eldest son without needing a reason?" His father wandered further into the apartment, walking over to the living room. He touched everything, trailing his fingers along the back of the sofa, picking up a magazine from the end table and pretending to flip through it. As if he had every right to be here.

He tossed the magazine haphazardly back on the table. Damon growled. His father whistled when he saw the collection of vinyl on the wall. "Impressive."

"How much?" Damon asked. I didn't know what he meant, but from the tired tone in Damon's voice, I could tell this was a question often asked.

His father turned his attention back to Damon. He ignored me completely, as if I wasn't there. I preferred it that way. Damon's father, with a sneering curl to his lip, made me apprehensive. As unpredictable as Damon was, I had a feeling this man could be set off by the slightest thing.

"One hundred," the man said, not pretending he wasn't aware of the meaning of Damon's question.

"Are you fucking with me?" Damon snorted. "I'm not giving you a hundred thousand dollars."

My mouth dropped open, aghast.

"You're going to give me exactly what I want," his dad said.

"And why would I do that?" Damon retorted.

"You're not the only son I can ask," the man pointed out.

Damon's eyes turned deadly. "You go near Ian and I'll kill you." Damon's voice was terrifyingly cold.

"More threats?" He narrowed his eyes at his son. "You've always been disrespectful, boy. I see time hasn't changed anything."

"Respect is earned," Damon spat. "And its not a threat. It's a warning. You go near Ian and I will beat the shit out of you."

A shiver went through me at Damon's words. It didn't sound like a boast or an exaggeration. In that moment, I had no doubt Damon was itching to do just that — put his fist through his father's face.

Damon laughed incredulously. "Get the out of my house or I call the cops."

The man smirked. "You tried that once already, remember? Didn't work out so well for you, if I recall."

Damon grunted, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "What is it now? Gambling? You in debt?" It was Damon's turn to sneer.

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