Island of Lies (18+)

28

Dad carried flowers and food that people delivered at my room while Tiffany was helping me to walk.

I knew how to fucking walk but the gesture was sincere and genuine so I decided to keep my big mouth shut and to accept help. Brio was settled in his carrier that Brigita got him yesterday and my baby boy was squirming and kicking legs as his eyes took time to investigate the whole street.

Brio observed street cats that were walking andd purring, people who walked and stopped by to see his chunky face. Rain wasn't pouring down, but the wind blew little blanket that was tucked under his feet. Brio squealed, babbling nonsense making people beam at him. Even David was looking at him with happiness written across his face, but of course that wouldn't last long.

"Who's that bastard?" My father spat at the child.

Brigita covered his ears as if he could understand the word. Thank God Brio was still a baby and his vocabulary was non-existent, but of course that he knew by my father's tone that he wasn't friendly.

Studying Dad's face, I was able to track a glimpse of recognition before he paled. Why would he pale? Did he know Brio?

"Dad, meet Brio. My son." David gasped, utter shock took over his features. Father almost collapsed, but steadied himself on time, holding David's forearm.

"Again." He took breath. "Who's that bastard?"

Possesiveness took over me, my body was wildly disobeying him at every step, every turn.

"Again," I took my time to emphasize every word, slowly dragging them out of my mouth. "That's. My. Son."

He reached for the carrier and I knew that his intentions weren't protective. He wanted to throw carrier and hurt him.

"Have some respect towards your grandson." Brio started crying and I nestled him on my chest, precisely on the left side so that my heartbeat calmed his.

"For sure I ain't feeding another woman's child, sweetheart." Kissing Brio's soft and warm forehead, I tried to keep my calm so that I don't upset him. But that was mission impossible when I was in my father's presence.

"You aren't, but I am. I've been working and feeding him myself. So cut it." I seethed.

Soonly, his eyes shifted towards Brigita, rage growing by every step he took towards her.

"And you," Pointing a finger at her, he came closer. "Helped her."

"Sure thing." Brigita said, her German accent came out quickly.

Whenever, she was upset or whenever thing escalated her German nature would come out, as if you pressed some secret switch that existed on her.

"Fired. Child is going somewhere else, and you are coming home. No Brigita, no anyone."

Unease filled my chest as I proccessed what this shit meant.

"No! Stop! I beg you!" I screamed, my head started hurting as I did it, but Brigita only turned and sent me an apologetic look.

Trying to run, but failing I started screaming and sobbing hysterically.

"Stop it! You're embarrassing me. Do you want to end up on the front of some paparazzo magazine?" His palm curled around my lips, suffocating me.

"I don't give a flying fuck about it! Bring them back!" I started growling and barking, but it only complimented my father's image.

"People think that you are an ill psycopath. Please, continue." My father chuckled, but fatigue took over my body, so I let David carry me to the backseat of our Rover.

Exhausted, crying and broken, I lost the battle.

But not war.

If Im going to need to sneak in to see Brio and if that means Im going to need to live with Collan. I'll agree because I have no shame when it comes to my son.