Her Flaws, His Bliss

A Bride In 48 Hours

Patrick

Please don't kill me! Please! It was a mistake. It won't repeat itself!” Gomez screamed with fear in his eyes..

I thought I could help by getting him away from the police, but my dad wasn’t going to have it. He took a seat directly in front of the already tied up Gomez, begging for his life.

“Why did you steal from me, Gomez?” Dad’s voice made my veins rise.

“My wife was sick! I needed the money to pay for her surgery! I won't do it again, I promise! Plea—”

There were blood and brain particles where Gomez's head used to be. That was the fourth this month. I can’t keep watching dad kill people like their lives never mattered. It was infuriating. I was definitely going to have another deadly dream tonight. It might continue for days.

I watched as he calmly wiped a speck of blood off the handle of his gun and turned to his henchmen.

“Clean this up.”

Fuck! I blame myself for Gomez’s death. I shouldn’t have trusted that he could escape on his own. I knew his life wasn’t safe with the police, so I bought him plane tickets to Denver. I was surprised when dad called me here only to find him tied up.

“What are you waiting for? You want to join them in cleaning that up?” Dad said as he walked out of the room.

I reluctantly followed him. If he needed to kill him, why did he have to involve me? To torment me? I wouldn’t put that past him anyway. He does that for fun.

“Do you mind telling me why you tried to help him escape? You think I wouldn’t know?” Dad asked.

My stomach twisted with disgust at that question. He knew I didn’t share his appetite for blood, and maybe that’s why he kept pulling me into these situations…to remind me that no matter what I did, I was still part of this family, this business. A prisoner to it.

“You didn’t have to kill him dad.”

“He stole from me.”

“His wife was sick. He might be wrong, but you wouldn’t have helped if he had asked.”

The deed was done before I realized I yelled. Dad hated it…you can’t confront him. I felt his gun on my head. It was expected. I just hope that one day, he won't pull the trigger.

“Don’t yell at me.”

I was quiet. It’s been years, yet it doesn’t get any better. I wonder how this cruel evil man was my dad. Other than my physical features, I looked nothing like him.

“A thief is a threat,” his voice cut through the silence like a whip. “The moment he took from me, he signed his own death warrant.”

I gritted my teeth but kept quiet. It wasn’t worth arguing about. Not with him. His world was black and white… loyalty or betrayal, life or death. There was no room for understanding, no room for mercy.

His cold eyes bore into me. “You need to stop thinking with your heart, son. It’s going to get you killed one day. You’ve seen what happens to people who go soft in this world. Sometimes I wonder If I truly were your father.”

Tell me about that wonder. I had seen it…more times than I cared to count. But that didn’t mean I had to become like him. I couldn’t. I wasn’t wired that way. Every time I saw someone die, it chipped away at something inside me.

“Not everyone deserves to die,” I muttered under my breath, knowing it would only piss him off.

He disappointed me with a smirk. “And that’s why you’ll never be in charge. You think the world plays by your rules? You think people give a damn about what you think when they’re holding a gun to your head?”

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “If you keep this up, Patrick, I won’t be able to protect you. Just get married and take complete charge of the wine company. I don’t need you in my business.”

I’d be glad if that were true. I have been managing the wine company for about five years now, yet he still drags me into his business. And the talk about marriage? I have had enough of that. What’s the relationship between marriage and the company?

“I…I have no intention of getting married. I’d rather die single than love anyone ever again.” I mumbled.

Dad scoffed. “Who cares about love? Find a woman…anyone. I don’t care. If you don’t by the time I return from my trip, I will find you a woman myself.”

That was a punch to the gut. He’d do exactly as he said. I didn’t bother responding. What was the point? I either find a woman or he’d do that. I cast the last disdainful look at him like I was saying goodbye to my single life before I hurried toward the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His question met me on the stairs.

“Where else? To find a woman.”

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