Page 129 of Boss of Me
I scowl. “Be quiet.”
He cackles drunkenly as we pull away from the sprawling casino. “Where’s your driver? You give him the slip?”
I snort. “You know all about that, don’t you?” I’m gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white. “What the hell were you thinking sneaking off to a damn casino?”
He throws me a sullen look. “I wanted a little taste of freedom. You and your brother have me locked away in that old people’s village?—”
“For your own good,” I tersely remind him.
He crosses his arms, his lower lip jutting out stubbornly. “I feel like a caged bird?—”
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT!” I explode. “You’re a goddamn wrecking ball, a danger to yourself and the public! You forfeited the right to freedom the day you got behind the wheel drunk out of your mind! If I hadn’t called in a favor, you’d be sitting in jail right now. I saved your ass, old man, so how about a little fucking gratitude?”
He slumps into the seat, his head falling back against the headrest. He remains morosely silent as I head toward the heliport.
Just when I think he’s fallen asleep, his head lolls to the side, his unfocused eyes watching me.
I stare straight ahead, grinding my teeth together until my jaw aches. When I can’t take another second of his silent scrutiny, I bite out, “What?”
He says nothing for several moments, his expression growing thoughtful. “Are you happy, son?”
I scowl. “What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one.” He turns to stare out the windshield, a burst of razor-sharp lucidity breaking through his alcoholic haze. “I had it made when I worked at Chevron. I was on top of the world, earning more money than I’d ever dreamed of. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t happy.” He looks at me. “I know you aren’t either.”
“You don’t know shit,” I snarl.
“Ah, but I do, son. I can see it in your eyes. The restlessness. The emptiness that can’t be filled with material possessions. I recognize the signs because it was the same way with me?—”
“Stop talking.”
He ignores me. “I left home at seventeen looking for fame and fortune. I had a chip on my shoulder the size of Texas and I thought the whole world was against me. I wanted to prove that I was more than poor white trash from a backwoods town, and that’s what drove me to succeed.” His voice roughens, guilt lacing his next words. “I know how hard it was for you and your brother when we lost everything. Your prep school friends turned their backs on you. Every door that had been opened to you before was suddenly slammed in your face. My downfall humiliated you. Angered you. Hardened you?—”
“Be quiet.”
He keeps talking. “You and your brother have built an empire in Silicon Hills. You’re the dynamic duo. The twin tech titans. You’ve achieved success beyond your wildest dreams, and you’ve silenced every critic who ever doubted you. But as you survey your kingdom from the mountaintop every morning, you’re realizing more and more that it’s not enough. There’s something missing in your life, Gunner, and you’re not gonna be happy until you find it.”
I’m gritting my teeth so hard my cranium throbs.
“NowI’m finished.” He closes his eyes, folds his hands across his stomach and promptly falls asleep.
his words haunt me throughout thetrip home.
As the helicopter swoops in low over my estate, I look out the window to see Marlowe sitting on the lawn under an old oak tree. Her head is bent over a textbook, her dark hair falling forward to curtain her face.
The sight of her makes something twist inside me. Which puts me in an even darker mood.
My father wakes up and groggily looks around. “What’re we doing here?” he mumbles.
“You’re staying with me until Aspen Oaks gets their shit together. I’m not paying a fortune for lax security.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’re staying.”
As the helicopter lands on the front lawn, Mr. Leland hurries over to open the door. I climb out and clap him on the shoulder, yelling above the chopper’s whirring blades, “Is his room ready?”
“Most certainly, sir.”
