The King's Pet (M-Preg)

52│

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C H A P T E R 52

E V E R E S T

It took everything in me not to snap and kill my father right then and there. My blood was boiling so hot, I swore I was losing my mind. When I reach that level of rage, it doesn't just fade—it takes a whole lot of people to drag me off.

He is my flesh and blood—the person I looked up to from a young age, the one who practically mentored me for as long as I can remember. His words, his approval, and making him proud had always been my priority. He was the last blood family I had, and the fact that my own father is trying to take away the one thing that makes me happy just doesn't make any fucking sense to me.

"Everest, my son, what's going on? What's wrong with you? You're acting crazy right now," my father says, eyeing me steadily as he approaches me carefully.

I just stared at him, not saying a word. The silence in the room was making him uneasy—I could tell by the way he was looking at me. Normally, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt because he's my dad, but at the same time, he's been acting cold toward Hayden ever since he came back.

After a few minutes of silence, I finally spoke. "Dad, I'm going to give you one chance to explain yourself. If not..." I pulled a pistol from my waist and aimed it at him. "I'll fucking kill you, and I don't give a damn if you're my father or not."

My dad looks at the gun, then back at me. He raises his hands and says, "Everest, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. You're talking reckless right now, and I know you're upset, but fucking think for a minute, son!" Desperation laces his voice.

My hands started to shake as my patience wore thinner by the second. "Dad, you've got 30 seconds to tell me the truth, or there's gonna be blood on these walls. So I suggest you start talking."

"Okay, okay, Everest—whatever you want. But can we talk like real men, without a fucking gun in my face?!"

My breathing was heavy as I struggled to contain my anger, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I raised my gun and fired a shot into his leg. He collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain.

"I'm not fucking around! My husband is giving birth to my kids, fighting for his life, all because of you!" I snarled, aiming the gun back at his head.

"I don't know what sick game you're playing, but I'll be damned if I let you ruin my family. Now, tell me what I want to hear, or I'll put a bullet through your head!" I yelled, letting my emotions get he best of me.

He always brought out that side of me—the emotionally deranged, angry mess.