"I-My father knows where I am, he's going to.......to do alot of things. We can go back home, preferabbly." He scrabble out quickly, eyes darting.Caden put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, gazing into her eyes.
Caden’s eyes flickered toward her, his gaze locking with hers for the briefest of moments. For a second, time seemed to stretch, and all the walls he’d built around himself, all the carefully crafted masks, cracked just enough to let the vulnerability slip through. In that fleeting glance, she would see it: the fear, the shame, the weight of his past threatening to drag him under. His jaw tightened, but he couldn’t look away.
The fear was real—no matter how much he tried to hide it, no matter how many layers he put between himself and the world. This was his father, his tormentor, his first ghost. Jason had always known how to break him, how to shatter everything Caden had fought so hard to build.
Before he could speak, a door slammed open. The heavy thud echoed through the empty space, slicing through the tension like a blade. Caden froze, his heart leaping into his throat.
There he was.
Jason.
Tall, imposing, a figure carved from the kind of cold strength that only years of cruelty could create. His dark eyes scanned the room with a terrifying calm, assessing, calculating. Behind him, his men filled the doorway, their faces masked with cold indifference, as though they were waiting for the inevitable destruction to unfold.
Caden’s breath caught in his chest, and his body went rigid. This was it.
Jason stepped forward, his boots heavy against the marble, each step punctuating the growing sense of dread. “I see you’re still alive,” he said, his voice low, rough, like gravel scraping against stone. His lips curled into a cold smile, but there was nothing warm about it. It was a smile that promised pain, that held no affection—just control.
Caden’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. His instincts screamed at him to fight, to resist, but the years of conditioning, the countless lessons in submission and survival, tied his limbs in a vice of fear.
Jason’s eyes flicked to the woman standing nearby, his expression unreadable. "And who’s this?" He didn’t wait for an answer, his attention snapping back to Caden, his gaze sharpening like a blade. "You think you can escape, boy? Think you can bury yourself in this little luxury you’ve built? You haven’t changed. You’re still the same weak kid who needed me to survive."
Caden’s jaw clenched, a surge of defiance flickering within him, but it was quickly quashed by the overwhelming presence of his father.
Jason took another step forward, his men slowly encircling the room, cutting off any means of escape.
"You think you’ve earned this life, huh? You think all your money and all your toys can make you untouchable?" Jason’s voice was harsh now, cutting through the air with the weight of years of power and control. “No, Caden. You’re not untouchable. You’re still my son. And I’m here to remind you of that.”
Caden’s eyes flickered back to the woman, a silent plea in them. But the words wouldn’t come. Not with Jason standing in front of him, with that same oppressive presence he’d felt as a child, as if everything he’d built could be torn down in an instant, like sand slipping through his fingers.
Jason’s gaze never wavered from Caden’s, and the sickening realization hit him all at once: This wasn’t about redemption. It was about breaking him. And Jason knew exactly how to do it.
Jason’s hand shot out, gripping Caden by the neck with a firm, unyielding grip. Caden’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with panic as his hands instinctively shot up, trying to loosen his father’s hold. His chest tightened, and he could feel the weight of the past pressing in, the old fear creeping back in an instant.
Jason’s cold gaze locked onto him, his voice sharp. “You think you’re better than me now? This money, these people, they don’t change who you really are.”
Caden’s heart raced in his chest, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and panic. The years he’d spent building a life away from his father felt like they were crumbling around him in a single moment. He wanted to fight back, to push Jason away, but his body felt paralyzed. The terror that had once defined him was rising again, stronger than he could control.
With a sudden, forceful push, Jason released Caden, sending him stumbling backward. Caden’s feet hit the floor, and he collapsed onto the ground, the sudden impact knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped, desperately trying to regain his breath as he lay there, his chest heaving. His body was still, and for a moment, all he could hear was the pounding of his heart.
Jason stood over him, his gaze unwavering. “You can’t run from me. You never could.”
Caden’s eyes dropped to the ground, his body still trembling. He wasn’t sure if it was from the fear, the anger, or the weight of the memories flooding back. The man above him, the one who had shaped him into who he was, still had a hold on him, no matter how much he’d tried to break free.
He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t outrun the past.
Caden lay there, his palms pressed against the cool floor, his mind racing as the weight of his father’s words sank in. He couldn’t escape. No matter how much he’d tried to change, no matter how far he’d run, it seemed like Jason’s shadow was always there, lurking just behind him. The fear that once gripped him as a child felt just as real now, his body unable to shake it off.
Jason's eyes didn’t leave him, his expression still hard and unyielding. “You think you're different now? That you can just build this life and leave me behind?” He stepped closer, his tone softer but no less threatening. “The truth is, Caden, you’ll always be mine. No matter how much you have, no matter how much you’ve accomplished, you’ll always be my son. And you’ll always need me.”
Caden’s mind was a blur, each word striking him deeper than the last. His throat was dry, and his stomach churned as he struggled to push himself up, his body trembling with the effort. He wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: the physical presence of his father, or the suffocating reality that nothing had truly changed.
“I don't need you,” Caden managed to say, his voice hoarse, yet the words felt weak, hollow. He wasn’t sure if he was convincing himself or Jason.
Jason’s lips curled into a cold, knowing smile. “That’s exactly what you think. But you do. You always have. And you always will.”
Caden looked up at his father, the mix of anger and frustration swelling in him. He knew he couldn’t outrun this, but he didn’t want to be that terrified boy anymore. He clenched his fists against the floor, fighting to keep his composure, though his body was still trembling with the emotional weight.
Jason turned and took a slow step back, his expression unchanged. “Get up,” he ordered, his voice still laced with authority. “It’s time to face reality, Caden. You can’t run forever.”
Caden’s chest tightened, but he slowly pushed himself up, his muscles sore and shaky. His eyes never left Jason’s as he stood, trying to steady himself against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
He wanted to believe Jason was wrong. He wanted to believe that he had broken free, but the fear gnawed at him, making it harder to hold onto the belief that he was truly free.
But he wasn’t about to show that fear. Not to Jason. Not to anyone.
“I’m not the same person I was,” Caden said, his voice steadier this time, even if his heart was still pounding.
Jason didn’t answer immediately. He just watched Caden, his gaze piercing and calculating. “We’ll see about that,” he finally said, his tone carrying a weight that made Caden’s blood run cold, eyes go wide, and color drain from his face.
Nighttime Thunderstorms with Hail
