Bitch, please.
The idea of my ex, Leah, nursing her sick husband back to health was so outrageous even I had to call bullshit on my own inner monologue. Robinson would abso-fucking-lutely have private in-home nursing care, because his adoring wife certainly wouldn't soil her hands cleaning up his piss and puke.
"It's time to let go of what happened in the past, James. It's done. Move on to the new."
Let go of what happened in the past?
My jaw twitched involuntarily, probably from how hard I was gritting my teeth. I had moved on to the new, as he put it. What the fuck did he think that was five years ago when I severed ties with this law firm and started my own? James R. Blakney & Associates, P.C. was something pretty fucking new. I shrugged and shook my head slowly. "So, what…you're running for public office now?"
"I've been approached by the party, yes." He unclasped his hands and placed both palms onto his desk. "I will accept their invitation to throw my hat into the proverbial ring. I have every intention of representing Massachusetts in the US Senate one year from now."
Of course you do.
I figured this day would come. My father's ego most definitely predestined a political career at some point. "Congratulations," I managed to ground out.
"The senate is just the first step in the overarching plan though."
"Overarching plan?" I loathed when he spoke in riddles like he was now. So arrogantly smug in his passive aggressiveness, it grated on my already stretched patience.
"Yes. The senate campaign announcement will come early February when everyone is breathing a collective sigh of relief the presidential race debacle has finally been put to bed. They'll use it to deflect some of the negative into a positive. Two years isn't a horribly long time to have to wait for a candidate they can really get behind and safely propel into the White House."
Whoa. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? "You're serious."
"Deadly serious."
"You're going to run for President of the United States." I didn't pose it as a question. I blinked at him, hoping to wake up from a really bad fucking dream—unable to accept the idea—grasping at straws of denial instead. "But aren't you getting ahead of things? The White House is a long way from a judgeship on the First Circuit."
He stone-faced me, taking me straight back to when I was a kid and about to get served my punishment for some irrationally perceived infraction. I had a lot of those moments in my childhood to draw from. A flicker of fear crept inside my heart.
"I-I m-mean, you have to win the senate seat before you can declare a run for President in two years." I wanted to cut out my tongue for stammering and showing weakness in front of him.
"The senate race is already done. All I need to make it stick is the cooperation of my beloved family." His lip curled up on one side in a definite sign of distaste as he spoke the last word. Jesus Christ, he must hate us all.
"How so?" I wouldn't have anything to do with his campaign. No fucking way. I held my palms up. "This has nothing to do with me. Your campaign is yours…as in, not mine."
"Oh, but it is in a way, son. You'll have to do your part to help present the right image to the voting public. Every aspect of our lives will be scrutinized. Every predilection…" He folded his hands and focused his dark eyes on mine, finally getting to the crux of the issue.
"Even I can't change who I am...Dad. You might think you can clean me up for your precious campaign, but you can't. You are responsible for my transformation, after all."
Maybe he was responsible.
But maybe not.
The darkness had always been there for as long as I could remember, just not acted on until rather recently. Now? I needed it to survive. The control was essential for me. That my father had knowledge of my sexual proclivities was a far worse burden to bear on my part. That I liked to tie up women and spank them while fucking was going to be his.
"Don't be so dramatic. It's a simple solution. Your sister is already on the right path. She understands her duty to her family. The only loose end is you." He did the lip curl again. "You will also do your duty to this family, and you will do it quickly."
I shook my head at him. Denying what I knew he was asking of me. "I'm not hearing this."
"You are hearing this. I can't run a campaign for the highest office in the land with a thirty-something son unmarried and frequenting an underground sex club. Discreet you may be, but this upcoming level of scrutiny isn't what you've ever experienced. I might be able to get the past whitewashed somewhat, but my powers aren't infinite here. A pretty wife and young family will do a much more convincing job than a cover-up could ever manage. The Internet makes things goddamn complicated for all of us."
Ain't that the fuckin' truth.
"Married doesn't work for me. I mean, just look at what happened the last time I tried to put a ring on it. You orchestrated that catastrophe like a pro, I might add."
"Ancient history, James," he said with a dismissive wave of a hand.
Ancient history, perhaps to him.
"Knowing my own father arranged for my almost marriage to disintegrate at the fucking altar in front of a full church of wedding guests still grates."
"She wasn't the right wife for you…obviously, and beneath this family. Can you deny you're not better off without her now?"
That last part stung like a bitch because he was right on that one point. I was better off without Leah in my life. But even worse was knowing how I'd been played by the people who shouldn't have dreamed of playing me. At the time, it had been beneficial for Leah to leave.
Beneficial for him…and for Ted Robinson.
My father cared only about himself, and that wouldn't change until he took his last breath on this earth. Rage got the upper hand over my self-control and I jumped up from the chair. "Why do you feel entitled to dictate the who and the when I should marry?"
He shrugged. "Because I can, and because it behooves me to have both of my children happily settled with families of their own. Family values will be the impetus of my campaign. Family. Values." His frustration was beginning to show. "You are going to get some."
Happily married, my ass. He wouldn't even know what that is. "And how do you suggest I do this?"
He made a sound of disgust. "Do I really have to spell this out for you, son?"
"Since it's me you're asking to do this? Yeah, you do, Dad."
He settled back into the luxurious leather. "Marry a girl from a good family and get her pregnant. I am assuming you can figure that part of it—" He paused, his expression changing to one of interest. "Or get her pregnant first, and then marry her."
"I'm not doing any of—"
"In fact, a surprise pregnancy might work even better to endorse our support of traditional values with a thoroughly modern interpretation." He tapped his lips with an index finger and looked genuinely pleased for the first time since I'd entered his office.
"Have you lost your mind? I'm not getting a girl pregnant to benefit your fucking political ambitions."
"Careful now," he warned. "You will do exactly as I've outlined. And you will settle down and get to work on creating the picture-perfect family I need standing in support of the legacy I am building. It's not like I'm asking you to do anything you wouldn't do eventually, James. People grow up and get married. They have children. It's the only reason marriage exists. Why are you struggling with this?"
I had to fight off the urge to shudder out my revulsion. Of course he'd see the notion of marriage for reproduction only. It certainly wasn't there for love. The thought of standing on a podium somewhere forced to cheer on my father in support was just too much to have to stomach this early in the day. "Fuck you," I mumbled under my breath, hating that I didn't have the guts to spit it in his egotistical face.
"You will not fuck this up for me, James."