Page 58 of Family Affair
Without saying a word, Cade stomped out shouldering Ross aside. He went to the bathroom and locked the door. Turning on the faucet, he splashed some water on his face. Catching sight of his face in the mirror, he took a good long look, examining the reflection of the thin line of his compressed lips, sharp cheekbones and chin covered in dark stubble.
Once again, he looked eerily like his father. Not flattering, but not surprising. Except for his eyes… He recoiled at the hateful sight. Dark, wild, murderous, his eyes betrayed him, and in this moment he looked unhinged.
He swiped his wet hand on the mirror to distort the reflection and turned the water off.
The muffled click of the closing front door signaled the whores’ departure.
When he came out, Alex and Jeff were speaking in low tones, with Dan sitting on the couch, touching his chin. Carpet burn reddened one side of his flushed face.
“I need to have my face checked out. I think you broke my nose, asshole.”
Cade was positive he hadn’t.
“I can set your nose for you, if you’d like,” he offered.
Dan’s eyes peeled wide at the suggestion. “I think not. I don’t want your hands anywhere near my face.”
Ross brought in a wet paper towel and offered it to Dan. “You’ll be alright. No permanent damage.”
"Hey, how about some compassion over here? Is it just me or does no one else find it strange that Cade barges in and beats the shit out of me for nothing? In my own house? Yeah, how about finding it fucking strange?" He smacked the wet towel to his face and glared at Cade. "You should be sorry."
"I'm sorry." He was, a little.
But then he remembered Dan's wet engorged member between the whore's lips and had to turn away sharply, the ugly feeling ballooning inside him again.
“I lost it," he admitted. He needed to leave, or he might lose it again.
“I could tell.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“But why? What I do in my bedroom shouldn't matter to you.”
Dan's belligerent tone grated. “It doesn't.”
Ross, Jeff, and Alex remained quiet, listening to their exchange. Ross’s eyes stayed glued to his face, catching every nuance in his expression. The bastard had started it, and now, like a researcher observing the rats he had infected, he was watching them writhe.
“You alright, man?” Jeff clapped him on the shoulder.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Just a rough day."
Without another word, he picked up his bag and made his way past his brothers, past Fred the VIP cocooned awkwardly in the love seat, and out to his truck.
He was done with Atlanta.
