Of course, right now, sitting in this plastic chair with an expensive suit on, and my hair slicked back, looking more like a lawyer than a visitor, and definitely a hell of a lot more dressed up than anyone else here, I—very fucking disturbingly—look like the spitting image of my father.
But going in there pissed off and demanding he hand over his shares to me isn’t going to get me anywhere. I need to play this smart, and that’s exactly what I’m doing, even if every second I sit here, my skin itches, and the need to punch something ratchets higher.
“Mason Hayes,” a guard calls, and I get to my feet, my heels tapping on the linoleum floor as I cross the waiting room toward a metal gate that the guard stands on the other side of.
“ID please.”
I lift up my driver’s license to show him, and he looks at it for a long moment before lifting his eyes to run them over my face, ensuring I look like my photo. Eventually he nods his head, and I tuck the license away in my wallet as he opens the gate.
“Follow me.”
Silently, he leads me down a corridor until we stop outside a door. “Visitation time is one hour. A guard will be stationed outside the door. Your visit is being recorded. No touching the inmate, no passing anything to him, or accepting anything from him. If you are caught breaking these rules, your visitation rights will be revoked and you could incur a hefty fine. Understood?”
I have no intention of ever coming back here, but I quickly agree, keen to get this over with, and he ushers me into the room. I hear the lock turn in the door behind me, the sound making my heart rate spike. The thought of being left alone in the room with this monster makes my collar feel tighter than it did a second ago.
“Son, this is a surprise.”
Looking at my father, he’s sitting on the far side of a worn table that has been bolted to the floor. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see he’s handcuffed and chained to the table, restricting his movements. It’s fucked up that I can’t even be alone in the same room as my own dad without fearing what he might do to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve received anything more than a black eye or split lip from him, but it still doesn't stop my long-ingrained reaction to his mere presence.
Puffing out my chest, I push back my shoulders and straighten my spine so I’m standing at my full six and a half feet, effectively towering over him.
Every ounce of hate I have toward him is tucked away in a box, tightly shut, and instead, I fix a nonplussed expression on my face.
“I needed to talk to you.”
I stride confidently across the small space, pulling out the chair opposite him and sitting down, acting as though being this close to him doesn’t make goosebumps pebble along my skin.
He quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, waiting me out. He’s always been good at that. The silent treatment. I guess that’s where I have learned it from. Perhaps even why I’m such a reserved person. I’ve mastered the significance of silence. It unnerves most people, but having had it used on me my whole life, I’m immune to it by now. And I let him see that.
Leaning back in my chair, I watch him back, noting the new lines that have formed around his eyes and mouth. His hair is more disheveled than I have ever seen it before, and his beard is longer than he would ever have worn it. Along with the bags under his eyes, he looks years older than he did before he was arrested, and smug satisfaction warms my blood. I’m careful not to let it show, though.
“I’ve been stepping into your role at the company.”
He mimics my position, leaning casually back in his own chair, keeping his fingers linked as his arms rest on the table.
“I figured as much.”
“I take it you’ve heard about the compound and Lawrence.”
My father’s lips flatten. “I have.” He shakes his head before sneering, “I get arrested, and the whole place falls apart. Typical.”
Of course the self-centered asshole thinks he was the only one holding the company together.
Despite my inner scoff, I nod my head as though I’m in agreement with him.
“I need your help to get everything back up and running. We’ve been left in quite a predicament, and Maria has taken it upon herself to take charge.”
My father's lip curls, and his hands form fists on the table. I knew he would object to hearing Maria is attempting to take the reins. The misogynistic bastard would have a heart attack at the thought of a woman running a company all by herself. Women are arm-candy, made for producing male heirs, and to beat your aggression out on—at least in his mind. Regardless of his prehistoric, misogynistic views, it works in my favor for now.
“Of course that sniveling idiot, Barton, is letting his wife take control. The guy probably can’t piss without her telling him how to do it. He’s never had the balls it takes to succeed in this business. Lawrence and I were the only ones who had the guts to strive for more, to fight to be at the top of this industry.”
The anger pouring off him is palpable, and it takes everything in me not to jump when he slams his fist down on the table. It’s interesting to hear him speak so openly about the others though. I had no idea there was this disputation between the families.
“Wilbert will be useless,” he mutters, continuing to shake his head. “We can’t let them run everything I have worked so hard to build into the ground.”
“I agree.” I most definitely do not agree. “They’re going to destroy the Hayes legacy at the rate they’re going. Look at how much we’ve already lost because of their incompetence.”
My father sears me with a critical look, and I know he’s trying to ascertain how genuine I am. I can sit here and pretend to be invested all I want, but at the end of the day, we both know, there’s no love lost between us. I’m not here for him, so he has to believe I’m here because I want to be, because I’m invested in the welfare of the company’s future, in the progression of the Hayes legacy.
I meet his steely gaze with an unflinching one of my own, and let him look his fill until he finds whatever it is he wants to see. At the end of the day, he’s trapped in a corner. He’s never going to see the light of day again. He’ll never have the freedom to run the company the way he wants. He has to pick a proxy. I just have to give him whatever justification he needs to make that person me.
“What’s your plan?”
Despite not wanting to be any closer to him than I currently am, I lean forward in my seat, resting my elbows on the table and interlocking my fingers. “There’s no place for women in this industry. And you’re right about Barton and Wilbert. They’re useless. The guys and I have been talking, and we want to take control. Now that we’ve been fully brought in, we have big plans for the company. Not only do we want to rebuild the compound, but we want to expand. We want to build similar camps across the country and further afield.”
I can see the hungry greed in his eyes at that idea, even as every word tastes like ash on my tongue.
“Cam already has Lawrence’s shares, and West is confident he can get his hands on his father’s. Hawk is in talks with his father to get his.”
“And you’re here for my portion of the shares,” he astutely states, to which I nod.