Eastwood Academy

Chapter 37: Impasse

I'm late getting home, or rather going to the house that I endured growing up in late. To an outsider it might look like paradise, but to me I see a prison carefully disguised with beauty. The house is large and imposing. Tall iron gates and hedges line either side of a long driveway leading to beautiful gardens that all house a childhood of internal pain. Maybe I would feel differently if I had any siblings, any warm memories in this place with my family. But aside from the occasional times I've Tyler over, this house stands imposing and silent.

Even Imeria only came here once, I made it a point to keep her as far away from my family as possible. My mother is never here, she has a fuck buddy somewhere in Europe and my father is only here part time, when his work brings him to Denver.

Being late will only stoke his rage. But when I had Brooklyn pressed up against me in the library, the warmth of her body and the bliss of her kisses driving away the cold of the night and the growing dread I was feeling about facing my father, I decided it was more than worth it. And it was. My father is already furious, what's a little more anger?

I park my dark red Bentley in the garage off the left side of the house and then walk inside. Forboding marble walls the color of tan sandstone greet me, my footsteps echoing hauntingly off the floor. In the foyer there are two grand sets of staircases, both leading up to the next floor. I head up, knowing that I'll find my father not in the living room, the kitchen or even his own room at this time of night. No, he'll be working, because money is the only love he's ever truly known.

My mother is a warm body when he can't have one of his mistresses and I'm his legacy. A way to memorialize himself in the world so that he doesn't fade away, even after he's retired and died. A son who has become a perennial disappointment.

As I walk down the hallway, I can't help but wonder what Brooklyn's house looks like. She's not wealthy, but I bet her house is a million times warmer and more welcoming than mine. It's probably filled with love, and happy memories. Here, there is no warmth, nor love. There are no pictures on the walls, only the occasional painting that cost millions and a sculpture of my great grandfather and his father before him, sitting across from each other outside of two doors on marble pillars.

I knock on the door to the left, then slouch back, putting my hands in my pockets. After all this time I still feel intimidated by my father, never mind the fact that now I'm taller and broader than he is. But my mind can't quite seem to grasp that.

I'll never give any indication that I feel anxiety in Gordon's presence (I refuse to call him dad). So much of the facade that I've put up and made my personality since Imeria's death, I learned from him. I had years of practice of seeming unaffected on the outside while dying on the inside.

The door to the study swings open and my father looks out at me, suit still on and a glass of whiskey in his hand. He appears calm, which is a terrible sign. I know from experience that it will never last, but it's like watching a horror movie where the main character is stumbling around in the dark. Waiting for the monster to pounce on them is the worst part. It's inevitable, but the anticipation is what kills you, so much so that you just want to get it over with.

For a moment he stares at me silently, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. Great. He's bad enough when he's sober, but after he's been drinking my father is downright foul. "River James St.Claire. Is there something you want to tell me?" he finally says.

"Funny Gordon Daniel St.Claire, I thought the reason you called me here was because there was something you wanted to tell me," I parrot back to him and I'm rewarded with seeing his jaw muscle start to tick as I move past him into the room, acting like I don't have a care in the world. Strength is my only defense against this man. Fighting fire with fire is not a good battle strategy, but it's the only one I have with my father.