The Ones I Hate The Most

chapter forty

Within the next ten minutes, Noah and I are both tied to chairs, having our arms tightly secured behind our backs. By this time, my grandfather and cousins have joined in on the drama, smirking away at their newfound victory of capturing us. To state the obvious, Noah and I are less than happy.

"Bentornati, ragazzi. Vi stavamo aspettando," my grandfather says slyly, smiling at me. Welcome back, guys. We were expecting you two.

"Aspettando?" I spit in a surprisingly calm tone. Expecting?

"Il tuo piccolo ragazzo ci ha avvisato. Sapeva cosa era meglio per te," Xander explains to us, and I feel more betrayed than I did before. Your little boyfriend tipped us off. He knew what was best for you.

"Quell'uomo puttana e il suo STD ambulante stanno probabilmente scopando in Slovenia, e ha deciso di perdere il suo prezioso tempo di cazzo, per informarti del mio arrivo," I scoff not believing his words. That manwhore and his walking STD are probably fucking in Slovenia, and he decided to waste his precious fuck time, to tip you off about my arrival.

"Bene, sono sicuro che possiamo mostrarti la prova più tardi. Vuoi spiegare perché hai pensato che fosse una buona idea piazzare una bomba in casa mia?" My father spits, looking beyond relieved and furious. I guess he is happy that his precious cars aren't blown up. Well, I am sure that we can show you proof later. Want to explain why you thought it was a good idea to plant a bomb in my house?

"Hai davvero bisogno delle tue auto? Pensavo fossi abbastanza ricco da poterti incantare una dozzina di nuovi. Ho sbagliato? I soldi stanno diventando un po' stretti da queste parti? La tua adorabile figlia e io abbiamo pensato che sarebbe stato divertente vedere le tue reazioni quando metà della casa è stata ridotta in cenere e non c'erano mezzi di trasporto per girare il posto. Probabilmente avrei riso," Noah mocks my family, a sarcastic and sour expression plastered on his face. Do you really need your cars? I thought you were rich enough to magic yourself a dozen new ones. Was I wrong? Is money getting a little tight around here? Your lovely daughter and I thought it would be funny to see your reactions when half the house was burnt to ash, and there was no means of transport to get around the place. I probably would have laughed.

"Marco, chiama Rosemary Greenspear. Dille che suo figlio è qui e sta correndo a squarciagola. Può portarlo a casa e occuparsi di lui, tuttavia, vuole. Ma non lo avrò vicino a mia figlia," my father demands, pointing his finger gently towards the door while maintaining eye contact with Noah. Marco, go call down Rosemary Greenspear. Tell her that her son is here, and is running his loud mouth. She can take him home, and deal with him, however, she wants. But I will not have him around my daughter.

"Sono un adulto. Quello che faccio non riguarda mia madre non coinvolta. L'amicizia non smetterà di vedermi, perché è quello che vuoi. E non andrò "a casa" con mia "madre". Possiedo un posto qui. E il tuo culetto mi lascerà uscire di qui, come un uomo libero," Noah says, chuckling lightly, but his laugh holds no humor. I am an adult. What I do, doesn't concern my non-involved mother. Amity will not stop seeing me, because that is what you want. And I will not go 'home' with my 'mother.' I own a place here. And your tiny ass, will let me walk out of here, as a free man.

"Ragazzino, mia figlia è minorenne ed è anche sotto la mia custodia. Non hai il diritto di entrare in casa mia, minacciare di piazzare una bomba, e poi chiedere di poter vedere mia figlia, e di uscire come un uomo libero dalla mia casa pesantemente sorvegliata. O vai a casa con tua madre e la ascolti da bravo ragazzo che sei. Oppure ti viene a prendere dalla slammer, dove hai una fedina penale permanente contro il tuo nome. Per favore, scegli saggiamente, non abbiamo fretta." My father's voice is cold and calculating, as he looks into Noah's eyes. It almost seems like he is glaring into his soul, and unravelling his darkest secrets. Little boy, my daughter is a minor, and is also under my custody. You have no right to walk into my home, threaten to plant a bomb, and then demand that you will have access to seeing my daughter, as well as walk out as a free man from my heavily guarded house. Either you go home with your mother, and listen to her like the good boy you are. Or she picks you up from the slammer, where you have a permanent record against your name. Please, choose wisely, we are in no rush.