Mind Games - Page 201

Enough, he thought as his temper snapped. Just enough.

“No, we can’t.” He looked down at the tearful, angry face and decided it was time to lay it out.

“We’re not going to see her anymore. We’re going home for Christmas and we’re staying there. Got it?”

“This is home.”

“No, it’s not. We’re going back to Philadelphia.”

“No!” New tears, furious ones, spurted. “No! No! No! This is home. We’re staying home. You promised!”

“No, I didn’t.” He knew that truth, as he was damn careful with promises. “I said we’ll see, and we’ve seen.”

“No, no! I go to school. I have friends.”

“You’ll go to school back home, and make friends.”

It seemed to Ty fire spurted from his son’s eyes along with the tears.

“I don’t want that school, I don’t want those friends. I’m not going there.”

“Pal, you go where I go, that’s how it works.”

Since he’d counted to ten a half a dozen times in his head, he judged himself calm enough to use reason.

And bribes.

“We’ll get a new house. You can help me pick it out. And we’ll get you a puppy. You can have your own dog.”

“I don’t want that stupid, ugly dog. I want Bunk! I don’t want that stupid house. I want this house. I’m not going. You can’t make me.”

And fuck reason, Ty thought. Time for discipline. “Can and will.”

“No packing!” Bray yanked books from the box, threw them down.

“Stop that.” When Ty picked him up, Bray pushed and struggled with enough furious strength, he nearly popped out of Ty’s arms. “I said knock it off!”

“You’re mean. You’re mean, Daddy.”

“And about to get meaner. You go up to your room. You’ve earned a major time-out.”

“I don’t want you. I want Thea.”

“You’re not getting her. Go to your room.” He set Bray down. “If I have to carry you up, double time-out.”

“Don’t want you to carry. Don’t want you.” Bray stood, little hands in fists at his sides, body vibrating with fury, face red with it. “I don’t like you anymore.”

“Yeah? I’m not real fond of you at the moment,” Ty called out when his little boy stomped out of the room.

He listened to Bray stomp up the stairs, then sat on the floor with the scattered books.

Jesus, sometimes parenting sucked right out loud.

Full-blown tantrum, he thought, waiting for his own temper to cool. It had been a while, and this one sure as hell topped all the other meltdowns along the way.

“Shouldn’t have told him that way. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” After pressing his fingers to his eyes, he started picking up books. “As much my fault as his. More.”

If he hadn’t gotten tangled up with the woman, hadn’t opened himself and his boy up to her the way he had …