A/N- Hey guys! That's right, I'm back. Hopefully for a while this time. I will be updating all of my multi-chapter stories again, still in order. But reviews always encourage me to go faster ;) And I am sorry that I missed this story the first time around, I've no idea why it slipped my mind. Also on this set of reviews, I'm going to try and make sure that they are of a decent length, and not short, little blurbs.
Ummm... Ok, so that's enough writers' seriousness. Let's talk about a book.
"Th1rteen R3asons Why" to be exact. I just read it, and I hope all of you do too. It's an amazing book, and you won't be able to put it down. Thanks, love you all. I'm gonna get on with the story now.
My dad looked at me with what I hopped was genuine fear. And I knew it was when he made the mistake of honoring me with his cocky grin.
"You don't got it in you, boy." He said, his voice quivering even as he fought to keep it steady.
I fought the urge to just do it right there. To pull the trigger and be done with his games and his taunts. Even drunk, he had always been good at reading faces and emotions and knowing just which button to poke.
But I forced myself to think clearly. Pulling the trigger is what Frank would have done, had our roles been reversed. And I was not him, and I was determined to never become him.
I kept the gun at his head, but pulled him up. Leaning in I whispered in his ear,
"I'm not you Frank. I'm stronger than that." He made the mistake of grinning at me again. I swung without out thinking, my fist making solid contact with his side.
He gasped in pain, folding halfway over to his side. I couldn't help the smirk on my face. I rummaged in the kitchen draw behind me and pulled out a few zip ties. Pulling Frank back up I bound his hands behind his back.
I kept my hand on his arm, but tucked his gun into the back of my tan suit pants. I smiled at him, my cheeky grin a perfect match for his.
"Stronger than that? You're weak boy. Couldn't have pulled that trigger if it would have saved your life." He hissed, pain seeping into his tone.
This time there was no expression on my face when my fist made contact with his nose. I felt it bend beneath my hand, but I didn't hit hard enough to break it. Blood flowed gently down Frank's face, but I ignored it.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's talk about why you're here Frank." I started, using my best super-spy-no-nonsense voice.
"You're obviously not here to be the father you never were. And Nate is in Vagas. Mom is in Disney. So that leaves me. What do you want Frank?" I asked, sitting him down in a dining room chair.
"I need your help Michael."