When Bad Boys Fall II

Forty-Six

Lucas' POV

Dad and I have been talking for hours, catching up on the things that happened years ago and currently in our lives. I told him all about the struggles I went through, the things have been up to, especially how I made enough money through racing and the shares I had in the company. He was all smiles as I told him everything and it felt so good to have someone like him with me. Before I knew him as my real father, I always loved his presence. He had been my best uncle and now I was with him, as his real son, I felt even more happy and relaxed in his presence.

"Lucas," he said in his soft voice. "I am so proud of you."

My heart fluttered at those words. So many times, I wished the man I thought was my father would say them to me. I used to hear Henry say those words to Axel and it always hurt but now, I got to hear them from my real father. I had to bite my lip and take a deep breath to control my tears.

"I always wanted to hear those words," I said, and he placed his hand on my thigh. "You have no idea what those words mean to me."

I could see little tears in his eyes and that made me want to shed mine. The air around us was emotional and it was heavy.

"I Have kept an eye on you and Matt," he said. "I wanted to be sure that my children were doing okay. I was even more happy when I saw that you had something to feed you when Henry could not even send you a mere cent for years. I hated him more and more, because I expected him to at least take care of my kids."

"Kids?" I tilted my head sideways.

"Yes... kids. He knew few months before I supposedly died that I had Matt."

Yet Matt still hung around Henry. Was Matt not aware of who Henry was since he claimed to know me even before I did, drawing the possibilities that he watched me.

"That doesn't matter anyway... What matters is that I love the man that you have become. I am proud of how you struggled to be who you are now, even though I don't like that you race illegally."

"I know. That is why I wanted to race legally on the tracks, but Henry happened."

I scooted closer and held his hand in mine. I squeezed his hand and stared at the contrast between ours. His hand was a bit tan and rough from hard work. It felt surreal holding the hand of the man that was my father.

"Dad," I said, the word heavier than I imagined it to be.

He chuckled and squeezed my hand and smiled ruefully.

"Please keep calling me that," he said, and I chuckled.

I nodded. "I will, dad."

"Thank you."

"By the way," I started to say. "Why don't you show yourself to Henry? Why don't you come back and take what's yours? Together we can take him down. You can't keep hiding and watching him destroy everything. This house, the money, the cars, the company, they all belong to you. Everything he is enjoying now are yours."

I waited for a response from him. He only bowed his head and said nothing for almost seven seconds before he raised his head and smiled sadly.

"I wish I could, Lucas. I wish I could fight back; I wish I could teach him a lesson, but I am more content with living without luxury."

At that moment, I took note of his fading shirt and the small, dotted holes in them, then his washed-up jeans. He looked a bit thinner than the last time I saw him and the condition that he was in made me angry.

"I am happy being poor and not having enough to eat as long as my children are doing fine. Don't worry about me, Lucas."

I shook my head. "No, I can't. I want you happy and living the best life has to offer. I hate living in comfort while you suffer."