Bryan’s pov
The walls in this damn house were starting to choke me. Every corner reeked of control, power, and all the expectations I never asked for. My father’s words still rang in my ears like the aftermath of a gunshot — sharp, ugly, impossible to ignore. And the punch? Well, that was just tradition, wasn’t it? A reminder of what happened when I didn’t bend to his version of strength.
I stormed into my room, yanked my shirt off, and threw it across the floor. My knuckles were already red from how tight I’d been clenching my fists, but I didn’t care. I needed a release. Something that didn’t involve glares, comparisons, or damn horses.
I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and dialed without thinking. He picked up on the second ring.
“Yo,” Gavin’s voice drawled, clearly still ha
