into anything other than a war of words because Grant had sat back
and taken it, when really he should have given the boy a good hiding the first
time he had challenged him. He had never had the heart to meet Aiden head-on
before, but he could not allow this rebellious boy to disrespect him anymore,
whatever he felt for him. Enough was enough and, today, Aiden’s quick temper
had pushed him to his limit.
Grant pointed a chubby finger in Aiden’s face and in a
low growl, he said, “You speak to me like that again and I will knock you all
over this room, do you understand?”
Aiden went to retort, to tell
him that he didn’t care, that he’d received regular beatings off his father all
his life so it would be of no consequence if he was beaten again now, but he
didn’t. Grant had no knowledge of the extent of violence that went on in the
Foster household, and pride prevented Aiden from confessing that he, ‘Aiden
Foster’, could be vulnerable. He could not confess his weaknesses to the man
he’d looked up to for most of his life; a man who he had always perceived as
brave and indestructible.
But Grant had secrets, Aiden
was sure of it. And he couldn’t trust him fully because of it. Grant had never
confided in him. He’d only dictated to him. All his life, Grant had insisted on
telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. When he had been younger, it had
been easier to swallow. He had listened, because he’d relished in the security
of knowing that someone was there, making all the decisions for him. But he was
a young man now; he needed to build a life for himself and make his own
decisions. Yet still Grant was there, expressing his disappointment and his
unwanted opinion!
When Grant continued to glare
at him, Aiden’s front dissolved. Grant was a large man, and as much as he
frustrated the hell out of him, he was still his senior and he was still
dangerous. It would be a closer fight these days, but Grant would most
certainly overpower him through experience alone. Even so, Aiden was never one
to back down. He continued to glare at Grant for a long moment then he snarled,
“Get fucked...” before retreating to his bedroom.
When Grant stepped into the
living room, Vivien stared wide-eyed at him and Duggie was watching the
television with a smirk on his face. They had heard the whole debacle.
“Seems like my son isn’t your
special boy anymore,” Duggie smiled deprecatingly. Vivien shot him a glare but he
merely shrugged and added nonchalantly, “Welcome to my world.”
Grant couldn’t speak. He was
enraged by the way he had been spoken to, but he was hurt and embarrassed and
his eventual response came from that overriding emotion. “I can’t do this anymore,
Viv. I’m sorry.”
Vivien’s eyes widened and Duggie
glanced at him with a trace of panic in his expression. “What do you mean?”
Vivien quavered.
“I’m mean, I’m done. He’s on
his own.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath then announced, “You’re all on
your own.” And with that, he walked out of number 22 Carlton House with the
intention of never returning.
“Grant?” Vivien stood slowly and
stepped out into the hallway where Grant was no longer. She stared at the front
door, utterly bewildered. She turned and stared at her husband, her mouth hanging
open, totally lost for words. She couldn’t work out whether Duggie had grasped what
this would mean. If Grant’s funding ceased, they were fucked.
Duggie took a gulp of his
cider. “Turn the TV up, will you, love?” he asked nonchalantly.
A tidal wave of emotion – anger,
frustration and panic – flared up inside of her suddenly and she screamed, “ Do
it your fucking self !” then she flew up the stairs, tears streaming from
her eyes.
Chapter four
Ricky Finn was the fastest around for breaking into cars
but, other than this particular expertise, he was generally as thick as shit
and couldn’t drive for toffee. Getting into a car and stealing
and taken it, when really he should have given the boy a good hiding the first
time he had challenged him. He had never had the heart to meet Aiden head-on
before, but he could not allow this rebellious boy to disrespect him anymore,
whatever he felt for him. Enough was enough and, today, Aiden’s quick temper
had pushed him to his limit.
Grant pointed a chubby finger in Aiden’s face and in a
low growl, he said, “You speak to me like that again and I will knock you all
over this room, do you understand?”
Aiden went to retort, to tell
him that he didn’t care, that he’d received regular beatings off his father all
his life so it would be of no consequence if he was beaten again now, but he
didn’t. Grant had no knowledge of the extent of violence that went on in the
Foster household, and pride prevented Aiden from confessing that he, ‘Aiden
Foster’, could be vulnerable. He could not confess his weaknesses to the man
he’d looked up to for most of his life; a man who he had always perceived as
brave and indestructible.
But Grant had secrets, Aiden
was sure of it. And he couldn’t trust him fully because of it. Grant had never
confided in him. He’d only dictated to him. All his life, Grant had insisted on
telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. When he had been younger, it had
been easier to swallow. He had listened, because he’d relished in the security
of knowing that someone was there, making all the decisions for him. But he was
a young man now; he needed to build a life for himself and make his own
decisions. Yet still Grant was there, expressing his disappointment and his
unwanted opinion!
When Grant continued to glare
at him, Aiden’s front dissolved. Grant was a large man, and as much as he
frustrated the hell out of him, he was still his senior and he was still
dangerous. It would be a closer fight these days, but Grant would most
certainly overpower him through experience alone. Even so, Aiden was never one
to back down. He continued to glare at Grant for a long moment then he snarled,
“Get fucked...” before retreating to his bedroom.
When Grant stepped into the
living room, Vivien stared wide-eyed at him and Duggie was watching the
television with a smirk on his face. They had heard the whole debacle.
“Seems like my son isn’t your
special boy anymore,” Duggie smiled deprecatingly. Vivien shot him a glare but he
merely shrugged and added nonchalantly, “Welcome to my world.”
Grant couldn’t speak. He was
enraged by the way he had been spoken to, but he was hurt and embarrassed and
his eventual response came from that overriding emotion. “I can’t do this anymore,
Viv. I’m sorry.”
Vivien’s eyes widened and Duggie
glanced at him with a trace of panic in his expression. “What do you mean?”
Vivien quavered.
“I’m mean, I’m done. He’s on
his own.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath then announced, “You’re all on
your own.” And with that, he walked out of number 22 Carlton House with the
intention of never returning.
“Grant?” Vivien stood slowly and
stepped out into the hallway where Grant was no longer. She stared at the front
door, utterly bewildered. She turned and stared at her husband, her mouth hanging
open, totally lost for words. She couldn’t work out whether Duggie had grasped what
this would mean. If Grant’s funding ceased, they were fucked.
Duggie took a gulp of his
cider. “Turn the TV up, will you, love?” he asked nonchalantly.
A tidal wave of emotion – anger,
frustration and panic – flared up inside of her suddenly and she screamed, “ Do
it your fucking self !” then she flew up the stairs, tears streaming from
her eyes.
Chapter four
Ricky Finn was the fastest around for breaking into cars
but, other than this particular expertise, he was generally as thick as shit
and couldn’t drive for toffee. Getting into a car and stealing
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