Ragged✔|18+

TWO

CLYDE

First rule of surviving a stare match down: Never blink. Second rule: Never show your opponent that you're chickening out.

Those are the two pointers I'm hanging on to as I stare at my father. The dick in front of me just declared that he was getting married. Again.

His last conquest last year- Sasha or was it Sally?- broke up with him because like I said before, he's a fucking dick.

And right now I seriously can't comprehend why he's telling me his 'biggest news of the century' about getting married again. He's quite the champion when it comes to women. He dicked over his own ex-wife with my mom. I wouldn't be surprised if the cause of the break up with his girlfriend is because he cheated on her too.

"So," I break off the silence. "How long's she going to last?"

He averts his gaze and says,"What exactly do you mean?"

Shit's about to hit the fan. I know what's coming next. I can feel it. I'm about to say something that'll really piss him off and he will retaliate.

It's something we have in common. Long, well-thought, mean as fuck bite-backs. That's what I call them because it actually feels like we bite when we deliver our hard blow comebacks.

"How long is she going to last until you decide she just doesn't make the cut and dick her over? Just like your first ex-wife?"

The subject of his ex-wife— my stepsiblings' mother —is a very sore one. Mostly to do with the fact that she killed herself due to depression. Depression he himself caused when he was cheating on her with my mom.

His eyes turn ice blue and I love that I'm getting under his skin.

"You really want to bring that up, Clyde?"

Shit, I guess I am. Which is all sorts of crazy because trust me, revisiting an issue like this one, where you fully know that your mother was a homewrecker, sucks to the extreme.

"Just so you know, maybe it's your MO too. Genes and all that." He smiles at me and it is not warm in the slightest. He looks like he knows something about me that I don't.

"What're you getting at, old man?"

"I know your sad love story with the Montés girl."

Oh fuck. He just went there. The subject of Zoe is off-limits. Even to me. It still causes an ache in my chest every time I think about it.

"You don't know shit," I say, refusing to meet his gaze. "And I did not cheat on her."

"I know enough," he says, a smug look on his face. "Kind of makes sense, don't you think? If I'm a cheater, then that means some of it must have trickled down to one of my very lovable and dear children."

"I bet it has," I mock, pretending to be invested in what he's just said.

"I did not intentionally cheat on my wife. We had a falling out, Clyde. Our divorce was already underway."

I roll my eyes and don't even bother to be civil anymore. "We can't argue with the truth Dad. And honestly? I don't give a flying fuck which whore you decide to tie the knot with. It's the least of my fucking problems."

"Clyde," he warns but I'm so done with this shit.

"Listen, I'd really like to stay and continue with this stupid and meaningless convo but—" I check my wristwatch. "I've got places to be. You know. . . Somewhere away from you."

I stand up and walk out of his study.

"Clyde," he calls but I ignore him. The house is eerily silent as I descend down the stairs which is a big shocker because it's usually filled with the constant bickering of my stepbrothers.