Alpha’s Virgin Stripper
Chapter 121

Lake:

I thanked Mrs. Lockwood and rose from the chair, holding the wooden box firmly in my right hand. Coming to terms with the fact that I had been lied to all my life was not the easiest thing to do, but it was something I knew I had to do. I had spent all my life hating my mother, despising her for leaving and hoping she was dead. I had even looked her in the eyes and told her to her face that she was indeed dead to me. How did one ever come back from that?

I dragged myself out of Mrs. Lockwood's library, out of the Lockwood mansion and into my car. I placed the box on the passenger's seat beside me. My heart squeezed in my chest as I stared at it. I quickly tore my gaze away from the box. I could not help the guilt that struck me whenever I looked at it.

My drive back home was slow and silent. The traffic in the city, coupled with the overbearing motorists kept me on the road for thirty minutes longer than I was supposed to be. But I finally arrived at the mansion. I did not bother to park in the garage. I stopped my car beside the garden and turned slowly to look at the box. There was nothing else for me to do. I picked it up and flung myself out of the car, feeling nothing but intense anger and hatred... but for myself. "Welcome, sir..." Before my valet could complete his statement, I flung my car key towards him, not bothering to see if he has caught it. I stepped into the glass doors of the mansion and headed straight for my room.

I tore my door open and banged it behind me. I walked to my wooden work table and placed the rich wooden box on top of it. I ran my lean fingers over the lid and slowly pulled the lid open. My eyes met with the shiny red muffler again, and her face flashed in my mind. I could see her cupping my chin, reading me bedtime stories to sleep and playing with all my action figures.

"Fuck!" I screamed aloud. I sharply turned away from the box. I could not bear to look at it, at all.

My eyes wandered around my room, before it finally landed on the door, my precious hidden door. I stomped halfway across my room and turned the key of my studio. I pulled the door open immediately the lock clicked, and flung myself into the room. Frantic, I rushed to my stool and sat on it. I stretched my right hand to the table that housed all my colours and pulled it closer to myself.

On the board was a free drawing paper. I picked up my paintbrush, stuck it in a caramel coloured paint and began to draw the only face in my head at that moment; my mother's face.

I captured the iciness of her eyes, despite the cold in them, I could remember how they brightened up every time she looked at me. I could remember how excited she had been to see me at her restaurant, the love in her eyes when she served the cabbage noodles. The stinging in my heart did not stop, I saw her smile turn to fear and pain when I stood and told her that she was dead to me, and I intended to keep her memory buried in the gutters.

My right hand began to shake. I couldn't bring myself to make one more stroke on the board. I screamed at the top of my voice and dropped my hand to my side. The brush fell slipped from my fingers and I allowed myself melt into the wooden stool.

Hot tears stung the insides of my eyes, pushed through my eyelids, and I let them flow. I allowed the tears run down my eyes and to my cheeks, I allowed myself scream in pain because I knew I had been foolish, very foolish. How could I have let two people who cared about me go for now reason? How could I have pushed them away from my life? Jojo and my mother.

Now, it was proving hard and impossible to replace them. How could I have believed my father's word blindly all these years? Without asking for the real answers, without wanting to know the truth. He had stared me in the face and lied to me, deceived me, and for what? Only twenty-six years of my life!

My fists rolled into balls beside me. I was going to replace them. One way or the other, I knew I was going to replace them.

I had not noticed my door opening until I saw a bright light illuminate my dark studio. I did not need to look up at the door to know who it was. I could see and feel his shadow hovering above me, I could smell the stench of his lies, feel the thickness of his deceit.

"What are you doing?" There it was, the voice of my father. The brooding voice of Cole Rush. I did not look up at him, but I could see his eyes rest on the painting of my mother.

He scoffed bitterly, closed the door and walked into my studio. With every step he took towards me, my teeth clenched against each other harder than before.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to speak. My voice was calm, dangerously calm.

He stood in front of me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze burn the side of my neck. I raised my eyes to match my gaze with his, but he didn't so much as flinch when he saw the intensity of my stare. He was my father, after all. He could never be threatened by me.

"You are the last person I want to see now, father." The last word rolled out of my tongue with all the spite I harbored in my stomach.

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"And she is the last person you should be drawing. Ungrateful swine. Did you really think I would not know all that you've been up to? Did you think that I would not replace out about the room you have littered with memories of two whores! I fought hard all these years to protect you from the bitch, but here you are..."

"Enough!" My retort surprised me as much as it irritated him. I found myself rising from the stool. Even though my knees were wobbling with the burning rage within me, I managed to keep my feet on the ground.

"You would not utter another word against my mother or Jojo again, and you had better listen to me. From now on, you have no right to interfere in anything that concerns me. You have no place in my life and in my affairs, and you have no right to come close to the people I love because if you do..." As I spoke, I left no room for a pause until I stood barely inches away from him.

"I would forget the fact that you birthed me and I would make a sorry example of you."

His dark eyes stared back at me. I could see the popping veins on his forehead and the steam that emanated from his body.

I pushed past him and rushed into my room. I flung my closet open and threw my clothes on the bed.

I had to leave here. There was no way Cole Rush and I could live under the same roof.

"Lake! You would not defy me by stepping out of this room."

"You should know better than to order me around, father. You do not have that right anymore." I bit back, without acknowledging his presence.

He took steps towards me and caught hold of my right wrist. I stopped and watched him grip my skin, he dug his fingers into my thick flesh, but I stayed silent and did not move.

"I made you what you are! I fucking made you, boy!"

"That is where you get it wrong, father. You did not make me, you destroyed me." I seized my wrist from his hold and flung his hand away from mine.

"Lake...!"

"What is going on here?! Your screams were threatening to tear the mansion down." Granny entered the room, whinning as usual. It was easy to tell she could smell the smoke in the room.

"Lake, my boy? Are you leaving? Where are you going to? To the outlands? I thought it was the..." She started to walk toward me. Her questions faintly annoyed me.

I turned sharply towards her, tears gathered in my eyes as I stared at her.

"And you, granny? Did you know about my mother? Were you in agreement with throwing her out of the house and keeping her away from her son when she did nothing wrong? When this man was the beast all along?! Answer me, granny!" Her eyes widened in shock as she stood by my side. It took ten seconds for her to raise her left hand to reach for my chin, but I turned away from her and moved back to my box of clothes.

She broke into tears, while my father continued to draw in breaths like a mad bull.

"So what? You're going to look for her?!"

I zipped the last of my box and turned to him.

"I would search for her, bring her back and protect her. I would give her the love she deserved, the one you failed to give. But first, I have an assignment to do. I have to make sure she has a safe home to return to." And I meant every word I said.