A Dream Come True; Literally

Chapter 7;

Chris’s POV:

“Chris, get up.” Blake shook me.

I groaned and flung a pillow at him which he caught with ease. “What’s going on? Why can’t I sleep?”

I was going to murder him. Tori was just about to-

 “Dad’s here.” He tossed the pillow behind him and straightened his back.

Two words. Two words with the power to ruin everything. Those words got me out of bed as though I’d just encountered electric eels there.

“What does he want?” I spat.

“Beats me, he says he wants to speak to both of us so get dressed. Shit’s about to go down.” Blake replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

I put on the first thing I saw and headed downstairs where doom was inevitable.

“Ah Christopher, how nice of you to join us.” The old man stated with a smirk.

I shot daggers at him. “It’s Chris, and what does your highness want?”

Blake placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and I turned to face him. He mouthed ‘calm down’.

I nodded once then turned to look at the man who had made my life hell since I was born. Desmond Nightly was a heartless bastard. The last I saw of him was two years ago, when he not-so-nicely got his men to beat the crap out of me, and he hadn’t changed one bit. Desmond still had a full head of silver hair, hollow blue eyes, and a sinister smile that could get anyone to stop in their tracks.

After years, I gained immunity against that smile; I no longer sense fear when I see it. Desmond also happened to have a classy suit on, which was ironic considering the fact that he was anything but.

“Is that a way to treat the man who kept a roof over your head since you born?”

I put on a blank mask, void of any emotion. “It is a way, maybe not the right way but a way nonetheless.”

“Touché.”  Desmond smiled, and it was the ‘I control you and there’s nothing you can do about it’ smile which only meant that he wanted us to do more of his biding. “I need you two to come to the gathering next week.”

“Which gathering are you referring to?” Blake inquired.

There were two gatherings that Desmond might have meant, either the one at his law firm or the one at his drug-dealing business.

Yeah, law firm. He’s just a walking, talking example of irony.

“The one at my law firm, they’re having a father-son congregation and I have to attend with my boys.” Desmond circled the island and put his arm around both our shoulders.

Like-brother: like-brother, we both shrugged him off. “If you seriously think that we’re going to act like everything’s okay and that you’re a loving father then you’re more messed up in the head than I thought.” I replied, hatred clear in my tone.

“Watch it. You two have to go unless you want a replay of last time.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

I involuntary shuddered at the awful memory which I had so desperately tried to repress. “We’ll be there.” Blake replied with a clenched jaw.

“That’s what I thought you said.” Desmond smirked then walked out.

Blake tossed me my bag and keys, “despite the surprise, you still need to go to school.” He half-smiled at me.

Shit. I forgot that I had to go to MHS for the writing competition thingy.

I waved at Blake and made my way out the door.