I was led to a room. Water was turned on, and I felt Beth starting to clean my hands. I let her, and I told her at the same time, “I need my family.”

She stopped and glanced up. “Your mother?”

“My family.” I gave her a hard look. “You heard me in there. You know who I mean. I need them, not some guy who hasn’t been around for years.”

Turning off the water, she held my hands over the sink to let them dry. “Your father may not agree with me sharing this with you, but he’s been away for a reason. He’s had his own troubles over the years and staying away was for your safety, Sheldon, but trust me when I tell you that he never stopped thinking about you.”

“He never cared before.” The memory of when he came home one night flashed back to me. I told him someone had broken into the house, and he only wanted to talk to Bryce, to catch up and see how he was doing. It’d been a slap to my face, but that was the reality. Neil checked out long ago. Now he was demanding to be let back in? A snort came from me. Beth paused hearing it, and I pulled my hands away from her.

The storm had quieted inside me, a tiny bit, but I knew it would come back. I wasn’t going to take this sitting back in a fortress. I knew that much.

Picking up some of the bandages she had laid out by the sink, I started to dress my own wounds. Beth moved back. I felt her gaze, watching me, and just kept doing it. I didn’t stop until both of my hands had ointment applied to them and were wrapped up. When I was done, I glanced at her again.

There was a different look in her eyes. I didn’t know it, and I didn’t care to guess, but I murmured, “Please bring my family here.”

With that said, I went to my room and a standoff commenced next.

A day went by. Nothing. They wanted me to meet with my lawyers so I refused. The longer he held back what I wanted, the longer I’d do the same to my father. My father would knock on my door with demands. I needed to be updated about my case. There were things going on, and I needed to know, but I refused everything. I didn’t want to lash out like the old Sheldon. I’d been through too much crap to know better. I was more mature, dammit, but instead, I had to fight back in a different manner. I went the Gandhi route.

A second day went by. Still nothing, so I stopped going to meals with Neil and Beth. The few times I had sat with them had been tense anyway. It wasn’t any great loss to me. The third day. Again, nothing. This time I just stopped talking to them. Again, no great loss. This was more beneficial to me. The fourth day. Same thing, so I stopped going anywhere within the fortress. I remained in my room.

This kept up for a week.

If this would last another week, I’d stop eating. I didn’t want to do that, but I would. I wanted Bryce and Corrigan there, at least them. Denton would be a cherry on top at this point, but Neil remained steadfast. So after a second week of my silent protesting, I took the trays of food inside, but placed them back outside my room each night. No food was eaten.

Four more days went by.

I could withhold, but my dad pulled out all the stops. He even had pizza delivered and had the boxes set outside my room. I could smell that all day long. Then it was Chinese, then donuts, then the worst—coffee. I peeked out into the hallway once and was shocked. It resembled a school’s cafeteria. Tables had been set up with buffet-style containers on top. Then I realized my dad had created a buffet line, but it was for everyone else to eat and for me to smell, and suffer over.

Bastard.

That was smart.

My stomach groaned and protested each morning, all day long. I thought I’d go numb from the hunger, that it might go away, but it never did. I just got hungrier and hungrier. And, seriously, the coffee aroma almost had me climaxing each morning.

I held firm, but it sucked.

Finally, after almost three weeks of this, the tables were taken away. I didn’t know what that meant, but I just went back to bed. That was all I could do at this point. I was drained.

A soft knock woke me up that evening. I rolled over, but didn’t get up. It would be Neil or Beth. She had started pleading with me to eat too, but instead I heard my dad say, “You won.”

I sat up, but I couldn’t talk. My throat hurt too much.

He sighed from the other side of the door. “They’re coming.”

My heart began to accelerate. I rasped out, “Are you lying to me?”

“No.” He sounded defeated. “You won. Your boys are coming.”

A rush of exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I lay back down. Finally.

*

I was sitting on the back terrace when the gates buzzed. I knew who it was. I’d been waiting all day. My body was riddled with knots, and when I heard the tires on the gravel, I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood, knocking the orange juice over. As it spilled across the table, Beth gasped. She dove forward with her napkin. “Sheldon!”

Two guards stood at the entrance. I paused for a moment. My father had said they were for my protection, but I wasn’t sure. As I started for them, their hands went to their guns. I stopped. They stopped. My eyes narrowed, and my chin moved down. I asked, “Why can’t I go out there?”

They glanced at each other, but didn’t say a word.

She said from behind me, “Because they have to make sure it’s them.”

“I know it’s them.”

Beth came around with her hands full of wet napkins now. She was thin and frail looking, but I wasn’t an idiot. My father’s girlfriend had her own agenda. Disapproval was heavy in her gaze now as she raised her chin toward me. “You’re here for your own safety—”

I shot her a dark look. I had waited for another week after my Gandhi protests were victorious and Neil kept reassuring me they were coming. He explained they needed to take precautions, to make sure they weren’t followed, and to cover everything on their end, so they could stay awhile and not raise suspicion.

I didn’t know if I could hold back anymore.

Beth started again, “You’re not invincible—”

Fuck it. I started forward. I didn’t hear the car doors open, but I didn’t care. If they didn’t come to me, I was going to them. They were only a few yards away now.

“Sheldon!”

The two guards moved together. They were a six-foot wall of muscle and machine guns. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t just my mother that tended to exaggerate. The amount of weaponry my father had was unnecessary. We weren’t in a drug cartel.