Dad’s anger turns icy, threatening. This is no longer about my mishap in visiting Georgie. This has turned to the heart of our hatred.
“You won’t though,” I taunt. “You’re too chicken shit and too money hungry, power hungry, to ever fuck up your meal ticket.” Me.
His look cuts me down. “I fed you drugs and hoped you overdosed. I watched your destruction. Until I met my girl. My Dietrech. When I backed away from you, you went to rehab for the first of several times.”
The weight of Kiln’s words almost crushes me. I never stopped to consider my actions or the pain I’d cause. I was too lost in my own pain and grief to care about anyone else’s. Everyone had always been so wrapped up in their own agendas.
Kiln was my enemy. Period. He didn’t believe me. He’d always fucked me over. The three times I’d had sleepovers at his mother’s house, he knocked the fuck out of me and stole the money I’d brought with me.
He had an unjustified resentment of me. As a stupid dickhead, he couldn’t understand I had no fucking say so in our birth order or his parents’ breakup.
If there’s any fairness to this, it’s that he now has a reason to despise me.
Still, I’m so sick of this bullshit, so I stare at my dad, silently asking him to release us from this hellish contract. I’m famous enough, wealthy enough in my own right where I don’t need him.
The ghost of my sister haunts me. I’ve apologized to her for being unable to save her.
“The way you seduced my wife and made sure I caught you in bed. You recorded key moments where she confessed her love for you and swore she’d leave me.” He gives me a bitter look. “Had you killed me, I would’ve been better off. Dietrech had become my entire fucking life and you took her from me.”
It should’ve been a huge scandal. Kiln had sworn it would be. For once, Jaeger wasn’t on the fucking fence about me and sided with Kiln.
“You don’t fuck your brother’s wife, Sloane,” Dad had said back then. “That’s crossing the line.”
“What line would that be exactly?” I’d retorted.
Dad knew his boys were on a course to annihilate one another, so he did what any ruthless fucker would: He threatened my band and disinheriting all three of us, unless we found a way to work shit out and work together. Dad made Kiln my personal bodyguard and Jaeger my manager.
“I’ve thought of ways to kill you to make it appear an accident.”
Something I was well aware of, and the reason for the design of my house in Denver.
“But since we haven’t been rewritten into Dad’s will, you’re worth more to me alive than dead. I thought I’d have to wait until Dad died to have my revenge. But you’re sniffing around Georgie. I had no fucking idea you’d be stupid enough to drop into my hands, knowingly and willingly, the means to destroy you.”
Dad clears his throat, which is well and good, since we’d momentarily forgotten his presence. It’s only around him do we resort to this conversation anymore. Otherwise, I’m as invisible to Kiln and Jaeger as I am to my band mates.
As Georgie is to her family.
“This conversation is over.” I nod to the forgotten photo. “I’ll promise to take more care, Dad.”
“Sloane—“
“Save it, Dad!” I bark, halting the freight train of words I know is barreling my way. I turn to stalk away.
“Stop!”
Cursing my father, his one-word command halts me. As he comes towards me, I take pointers in the art of stalking. My father does it like no other, so my attempt from moments ago seems feeble.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” he asks when he stops before me.
Rage underscores the question and contorts his features, but I don’t respond. I stare into his icy eyes with a cold look of my own. Is this the asshole Kiln hated me over? He can fucking have him.
“This shit’s old.”
I grit my teeth, resenting the words that mirror my thoughts.
I’m NOT Rand Mason.
He pins me and Kiln with a filthy look. “Both of you, get a fucking grip. What’s done is done. It’s over, so let it rest.”
“I hate that cock head,” Kiln explodes, fists clenched at his side. “I’ll never let it rest.”
“As if I give a fuck,” I snarl, remembering the time I shot at him. If only I hadn’t fucking missed. He’s done dirty fucking shit to me, too.
Kiln lunges but Dad steps in the pathway as I prepare to pound Kiln into the fucking floor.
“Keep it to yourself, asshole,” Dad orders, unconcerned that Kiln may have a knife on him and sneak a jab as he once did me. “All this unrest interferes with Sloane’s music. The source of both your incomes. Let me put a bug in your ears, Kiln Dalton—“The middle name he pretends is a last name—“If this shit between you and Sloane doesn’t stop, my good will evaporates and I pull my support.”
“Please do,” I snap.
“All up to Kiln,” he adds in triumph.