Hell Of A Marriage {18+}

Chapter ten - Now that we are married

Before I can understand what he said and get the reply, Keenan takes the phone away from my grasp.

“Did you do this, Dad?” he asks through gritted teeth and I feel he’s angry even though his expression shows anything but that.

“Calm down, son and come open the door for me, I’m outside.” the man on the other side of the phone says with a calm voice. Not bothered to answer his son’s question.

Keenan tosses the phone and hastily walks to the door and when he opens it Patrick who is around his early mid-sixties with ginger and grey colour of hair walks in. His blue eyes, which are a striking resemblance to Keenan’s, meet mine and he gives me a warm-hearted smile. It is a genuine smile, but I do not smile back because a part of me feels like he’s the reason we are in this mess, to begin with. He must have read my thoughts because the smile on his face disappears and he walks further into the room.

He’s wearing a three pieces black suit, neatly and expertly ironed out and although he’s no longer young. Well, he is pretty young for a sixty-year-old man. I can say there isn’t much difference between the man I saw three years ago in Bethany’s office and the man standing here now. I believe the much care and the money seems to still keep him in check and shape.

The old man also holds a striking resemblance to his son, not just with the same hair colour, and the same colour of his eyes, but also having the same body built, movement and gestures are almost identical to Keenan’s and his jaw is also strong and his height just like Keenan.

“I asked you a question!” Keenan thunders and I jump because he’s so close to where I’m standing at the door, but his father doesn’t seem to mind his tone.

“Maybe.” the man shrugs casually, his eyes daring Keenan to do his worse and Keenan cusses under his breath.

Keenan’s hand balls into a fist and Patrick just raises a ‘seriously’ brow at him. “I’d take the challenge any day cause it’ll be fun beating you senselessly and bringing some sense into you,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone as he states intensely at Keenan.

Did this man just dare his son into a fistfight? I ask myself, shocked at my bone at the confidence the old man has before his son.

“But you can unclasp your fist ‘cause that day isn’t today son.” He tells him dismissively.

Keenan doesn’t unclasp his fist at his words as he stews and stares at his father murderously and his teeth grind, hardly trying to control his rage.

Looks like they might end up having a rumble in this room as if Keenan hasn’t done enough harm to this house already. I am a bit terrified because I have never been a fan of violence because of the pain that follows, but right now I am not even worried about myself; I am worried for the old man who seems to piss his son off more with every second and word he utters. Maybe he is as strong as he thinks he is and he and Keenan are the same height and built and maybe even stronger, but Keenan is angry and an angry and hurt man like him carries the strength of many. I fear that this man that brought himself in on his own two legs may end up being rolled out on a stretcher if he continues to push and make matters worse.

“I’m not here for a fight. Keenan put those fists away. You’re scaring the Lady.” The man orders with a strict voice and Keenan turns to look at me and I don’t know what he saw in my eyes, but grunting angrily, but to obey and unclenches his fist.

“This was all your plan. Why would my father do such a thing?” Keenan exclaims. His voice holds many emotions, but rage clouds them all up.

“Why?” the old man demands with a surprised looked. “Someone had to help you.”